'Till the end of the line (Stucky One-Shots)

Anything for you

Based off the photo above
This takes place between Age of Ultron and Civil War, but Bucky lives with the Avengers. Also, this is actually kinda like a modified excerpt from a book/Fic I'm writting for the marvel universe, Ghost Eyes is a character in that book, that's why she's in this—do not be alarmed children XD
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One thing that Bucky certainly did not miss from his past was the sound of gunshots. It shook through his skull harshly, threatening to turn his brain to goo and have it pool out his ears. He crouched behind a large hunk of metal that had been previously blown off of a fighter jet and covered his ears, mentally cursing at himself for even getting involved with this, he didn't even like Tony Stark. But Steve had asked for him to help, and sadly, he couldn't say no to Steve.

He peered over the metal, staring at the battle unfolding in the warehouse in front of him. The King of Death stood in the center of the madness, using his "gift" to reconstruct every cliche zombie thing that had ever happened. Thick purple mist swirled around his feet, and his followers clawed their way from the ground with glowing yellow eyes and snarling faces. We didn't have to deal with these back in the '40s. He thought sarcastically to himself, dodging what was thrown at him.

Ghost Eyes—fourteen year old Kelly Marvin—screamed as she was chucked over The Winter Soldier's head. She landed behind him in a heap on the ground, groaning loudly, he'd costume torn and ripped, revealing her normal street clothes underneath. Out of impulse, Bucky rushed to her side. "Are you alright?" He asked, continuously looking over his shoulder as he helped her up. He didn't want to be on babysitting duty and miss the fight, but this was a child, someone that shouldn't even be in the battlefield. How could he not make sure she was okay?

Kelly grunted. She fixed he'd multicolored wig, he brown roots seeping out. Her whole costume seemed a little ridiculous to Bucky, but Stark and her friend Polly had both turned it into something that actually made sense for a hero—minus the skirt Kelly insisted on having. She adjusted her goggles, her eyes glowing behind the lenses a harsh shade of blue. "I'm alright," she said, avoiding looking at him (and for that he was grateful—all Kelly had to do was look at a person to predict their actions, read their emotions, and knock them out). "He's gotten stronger since last time I took him on."

He shouldered his gun on his metal arm, trying to adjust the sniper so he could get a clear target. "It's quite impressive that you even took this guy on," he attempted a compliment, but his focus was elsewhere. He scanned the battle, trying to find a blur of red, white, and blue, disappointed when he couldn't see it. "You're a good ally, Miss Marvin."

Kelly snorted, and shoved Bucky forward. Normally, this would be seen as a sign of attack, but the way Kelly smirked at him made it seem even more devious. "Go find him, before you give yourself a heartache." He stares at her blankly, not liking the idea of leaving her alone after she'd been thrown to the other side of a warehouse. "Go," she prompted, tapping her goggles impatiently. "I've just gotta fix these, I'll be fine."

With a nod, Bucky charged back into the battle.

One thing that he would give the King of The Dead was that the guy was crafty. Every time anyone got close to knocking his scepter out of his hand, a zombie popped up behind them and dragged them off. Natasha has looped herself into a wrestling match with at least three undead soldiers, Sam and Rhodey flew around Tony, blasting skeletons into dust while Wanda and Vision blasted them. All in all, it was fun to watch—if you were a bystander from afar.

After a while, Bucky had located Steve, coming up behind The King and getting ready to throw his shield. Sadly for the Captain, one of the skeletons noticed and screeched, the sound like a mix of nails on a chalkboard and a screaming child, causing the King himself to notice. He thrust his hand forward, and with a pulse of purple energy, sent Captain America flying into the wall, his helmet spiraling off in an opposite direction. His body hit with such force that he fell to the ground unconscious, a cascade of drywall coming off with him.

It didn't seem like a concern, until little Miss Vision-Eyes screamed and pointed where Steve had been flung too. "Mr. Rodgers!" Bucky followed her finger to the wall, and since he did not have her ability, couldn't see what the problem was. Until he saw the largest chunk of the wall break off, and hurdle towards the ground where Steve lay.

Bucky got a taste of what it was like to have Kelly's powers—to be powered only by adrenaline flowing through his veins. He dropped his gun, which was a horrible mistake in the long term, and sprinted. Blood roared in his ears, his heart beating one hundred miles a second. Memories that he had been struggling to find for months cane flooding to him as he ran, him and Steve as kids playing stickball in the back alley of his apartment, later on being pestered by bullies that Steve wouldn't let get away. The two as teenagers escorting a closeted lesbian couple disguised as a double date to make it look normal to the girls' parents, later on celebrating in glee for a job well done. So many bittersweet memories aching his heart as he slid next to the blonde hero of America.

Bucky cradled Steve's bruised and bloodied head in one arm, immediately shooting his left arm upwards. The section of the wall almost instantly collided with his arm, causing him to scream in agony. The weight was unbearable, tearing into the metal like a drill. He could hear it groaning from the pressure. He could feel it bending, his metal arm, breaking. He could feel his head going dizzy, Bucky knew he was going to black out. But he couldn't. He looked down at his other arm, Steve tucked safe and sound beneath him, like the good old days. If he gave up now, not only would he die, but Steve would suffer more than he deserved as well.

With this realization, he kept it up, his arm and the notion. The sounds around them had become muffled, like they were underwater and the rest of the world was above. He brushed some of Steve's hair out of his eyes with his right thumb, smiling as much as he could through the pain. "S-Steve," he tried, he honestly did. But the saliva building up in his throat prevented his words from coming out. This was too much, the Winter Soldier was suffering. Sadly, the Winter Soldier was used to suffering. Steve stirred lightly beneath him, groaning in pain as he moved in his sleep. "S-Shhh..." Bucky tried again, praying to whatever god really listened that Steve and him would make it out of this alive, if anything, just Steve.

And it snapped. The metal arm finally gave out, and the wall fell. At least, it would have, if it hadn't been engulfed in a hue of red, and thrown at the other side of the room. Bucky exhaled, and collapsed next to Steve, black eating at his vision. He was only vaguely aware of the voices shouting at them.

"Holy shit, Steve?" Tony.
"Language, boys? Boys!" Natasha.
"Captain? Sargent Barnes?" The weird red robot.
"Mr. Rodgers?! Mr. Barnes?!" Kelly.
"Steve!" Wanda.
"Oh shit." Iron Man 2.0.
"Steve?!" Sam.

Bucky chuckled, or at least, he thought he did, and slipped into unconsciousness.

Another thing that Bucky did not miss: hospitals. He hated the way they looked, the way they smelled, how often Steve needed to go to them, everything about them. You can imagine his reaction when he woke up in one, locked in a drowsy haze, the bright lights blinding him with no mercy. He groaned, looking around at the drab white curtains and ceiling, his eyes catching something next to him (and it wasn't the large bouquet—signed by Natasha and obviously forced-signed by Tony). Steve sat in a chair next to his bed, asleep.

His face had been stitched up, and his head was bandaged. Aside from that, he looked safe, if anything, healthy. That sent a wave of relief through Bucky, making him sink into the bed. Bad mistake, he moved his body, and immediately hissed in pain, waking the super Soldier next to him. Steve looked lost, jerked out of sleep and looming around like a lost deer. Finally, his eyes stopped on Bucky, and he burst into apology. "I'm so sorry, Buck. Why did you do that? You destroyed your arm! I'm sorry, I—"

Bucky cut him off from his rambling by placing a hand over his mouth, smiling sleepily. "I'll do anything for ya, Stevie, anything." And with that, James Barnes slipped back into sleep, his arm dangling off of the bed.

Steve shook his head and smiled, grabbing his best friend's hand and intertwining their fingers. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Bucky's forehead, leaning his head on the other's chest and closing his eyes. "Good night, Buck."

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Word Count: 1,601