This is not the Endgame

I fall to pieces

Bucky was pining.

He'd screwed things up miserably with Ava, and there seemed no chance of another opportunity. It was sometimes hard to work with her, but he retreated to the impassive face he'd had such a long time to perfect during his time as the New Fist of Hydra™ so as not to make things difficult. This close to the holiday, people were taking time off--days or just a few hours here and there, and it made scheduling  meetings more difficult. Fortunately, this seemed to be the situation everywhere, and nobody fussed much about it, even the clients. And while he was getting put on more projects with the other managers, the week before Christmas, he was placed on the team forming around Ava for a new hotel in Midtown. Because this project was starting from the recently cleared site, there was much to do and they would be working closely together. Yay. A small team of them met on the construction site, lumpy from having the previous building knocked down and removed. The architects, the construction manager, Nelson, Ava, Ben, and Bucky discussed the project and immediately found an issue; the surveyors might have made a slight error and the architects needed to make sure their work was correct to make sure the building would fit on the lot as planned, if the surveyors were correct. They'd get another company to re-survey the site. It was freezing, even through winter coats, hats, scarves, and gloves, snow falling, so the meeting hit the highlights and the group adjourned as quickly as possible. The architects, construction manager, and Nelson flitted off; Ava, Ben, and Bucky had work to do back at the office and cut through the public parking garage next to the site. The client was negotiating to buy it and put up a taller one in its place to service the hotel and surrounding businesses for a price; it was only four stories above ground, a real waste of space. It had been meant for more; there were two subterranean levels and it had been planned for eight above ground, but the money had run out during construction.

They weren't talking much, being cold, and anxious to get to the subway, which was warmer. Bucky was a few steps behind, having accidentally dropped his phone, which had bounced under a fender.

As accustomed as he was to things going in the crapper in a hurry, Bucky was still surprised at what seemed like a simultaneous quaking and booming sound. Even as he fell, he recognized the use of explosives and cursed; he'd smelled the motor-oil odor of C-4 but dismissed it because they were in a garage. Also, he fumed that this was a dick move. He was retired.

The wind was driven out of him by his landing on his front, and he was being severely compressed by debris, making ribs crack. He squirmed free in desperation and slid several feet on the tilted cracked concrete before falling off and dropping down a couple of extra yards. He wheezed his lungs full of air again, sounding like PreSerum!Steve during a bad chest cold, and coughed from all the dust in the air.  "Ava! Ben!" But the garage was still falling apart--Jesus, how much C-4 had been used? This was really overkill--and he couldn't hear anything, even with his enhanced hearing. He waited until movement was reduced to trickles of small diameter debris and tried again.

He heard a cough.

"Ava! Ben! Anybody?"

More coughing. "Bucky?"

A female voice. Ava. He closed his eyes, both in relief and to keep dirt from falling in them.

"Ava! Are you all right? Can you move your fingers and toes?"

"Yes, I can move my hands and feet," she said after a moment. "But I'm pinned here. Ben... is no longer with us. Are you ok, Bucky?" She sounded near tears, and this kicked his brain in gear. He was bruised and battered, his right kidney had been smacked by a chunk of concrete, in addition to the ribs, but these would heal. Importantly, he could move, and carefully inched toward the edge of his piece of garage closest to where her voice sounded. This slab was stable, at least right now.