I Thought You Were Different: Part 5

Stop

Whoever it was who had made the call to bring the Avengers into a mission now was an idiot. They should have known that there was no way that this group could be ready; sure, physically they were still at the top of their game and unmatched against most threats, but mentally they were a wreck. How could they not be after all that had just happened to them, and the unforeseen things that were yet to come? They were things that no one would have anticipated, nor could they have, given the intensity and impossibility of what they had experienced together. Life and death had bonded them forever, but it could also be what would finally tear them apart once and for all.

The mission was a mess, and that was being kind. Never before had the team been so careless, so reckless; they were acting out on pure impulse and instinct, as if they had all but forgotten their training and skills to work as a cohesive group. No one had been spared from the mindset; even Vision, who was usually the voice of reason, had begun to act out as if he had barely any control of his own strength and power with little effort to change his ways.

"(Y/N)," Steve called out to you through the comms, "I need you to get a line to Fury and find out what the hell his goal is here. This is nothing more than a back-alley brawl and we're getting nowhere."

"I'm on it, Cap," you answered readily, blocking any assailant who tried to stop you as you made a run for the jet. One over-eager Hydra thug decided that today was his day to try his hand at taking on an Avenger alone, and he was quick to learn that he should have chosen another day as your shot took him down quite efficiently. "Dumbass," you mumbled coldly, stepping over his lifeless body as you continued forward.

A few seconds after you had reached your destination and just as you sat down at the communications panel to try to contact Nick, heavy footsteps behind you made you spin your chair around almost frantically and totally out of character. Not much used to set off your nerves once you were in your mission frame of mind, and it shook you to feel that just the sound of Bucky's feet behind you could make you jump so high.

"Relax, it's just me."

"Sorry, I guess I'm a bit on edge today." You quickly typed in your message, struggling to remember details like how to code it for the secure channel and routing the reply to come to you over your comm so that you could be mobile. It was beyond frustrating to feel the hesitation, and you were certain that you couldn't be the only one suffering it.

"(Y/N), do you think...could you maybe help me get this stopped?"

"What?" you asked absentmindedly, watching for the message to clear the screen before turning to face your friend. Once your mind caught up to what your eyes were seeing, you bolted up and rushed to his side, pressing your hands into the deep wound in his leg that was spilling his blood onto the cabin floor. "What in the hell happened? Buck, lie down, you're getting pale."

"I'm okay, we just need to close this up."

"You need to lie down like I said," you insisted, not breaking his stare even as he tried to hold the upper hand when he never really had it to begin with. "If you want me to stitch it, then you do as you're told."

"Yes, ma'am," he ultimately gave in, turning his body so he could rest himself down on the bench. "I wasn't paying attention. I was too busy covering Sam that I didn't see the guy on the roof. I was sloppy...oh, dammit..." he hissed when you tore the cloth to expose the cut and to push the wound edges together, "are you being mean on purpose?"

"You have a gash at least six or seven inches long and three deep on your thigh, Buck. It's gonna hurt. I haven't even started working on it yet." Where you were sitting wasn't exactly the best for working, but you didn't feel like moving him would be the best idea with how pale he still was, and how much blood was still spilling through your fingers. You couldn't reach any supplies, but you couldn't release him to try. "Guys," you called to the team, "is anyone in range of the jet? Buck's leg is ripped open and I can't reach the medical kit. I could use a hand. Banner?"