yourbestguysgun | → time after time i think it's just no good

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who: steve rogers || madefromserum

→ time after time i think it's just no good

[ Bucky's quiet at Steve's side, picking through the woods with his pack and his gun slung over his back. The silence is uncharacteristic, but his mind is still burning with last night, the low churning feeling in his stomach difficult to do away with, the shame and punch-drunk hysteria clawing up his throat so that he doesn't say much, occasionally watches the line of Steve's shoulders as he walks, takes the profile of his friend in out of the corner of his eye. He's gorgeous, Bucky's not blind, but he's always been good-looking in his eyes, half the reason why he brought all those dames along on dates, because he couldn't quite see why someone wouldn't want him. And they hadn't, and he'd hated each one, because they had the chance and didn't take it, and Bucky would kill to have that.

Sometimes Bucky can't bear it, just wants to drag his fingers through Steve's hair, force him down to his mouth, kiss him stupid like he's been wanting to all these years, even before they made him perfect. Because Bucky doesn't want perfect, he just wants Steve, wants to do unnameable things to his best friend, wants to covet and keep and protect, and he knows he shouldn't, that what he wants from him isn't what he's allowed and Bucky should really let that go, shouldn't he?

At least they're going back to camp, he can get drunk, lick his wounds, probably find someone just as messed up as he is. He knows for a fact there's a blonde cadet that keeps eyeing him up, and sometimes it's easier to just pretend than try to work it out. Because Steve hit it on the head, this is gonna kill him.

And he'd probably let it. ] Is it me, or is it real quiet out?

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[ Steve finds the silence hanging between them to be a little unsettling, because he's noticed, of course he has, that this isn't quite the usual outgoing Bucky that he knows and loves. The two of them have known each other long enough that quiet moments don't bother them, it doesn't make things awkward or not right if they sit together without speaking. But this is different. Sleeping on the floor of a hut out in the middle of no where, half-naked and frozen, with nothing but each other to hold onto warmth, and waking to still-damp clothes, exhausted and hungry and in need of a good wash is more than likely the biggest factor.

But there's something else, something not quite right, and he can't help wondering if it's got something to do with whatever it is that was weighing on Bucky's mind last night. Bucky is the happy-go-lucky one, the one with all of the confidence and who takes all of the risks, and generally enjoys himself without much in the way of deep and meaningful coming into it. Steve, as everyone knows, is the one who holds himself responsible for everything, who doesn't let go quite as easily, and that in itself makes this worry him.

And there, just as Bucky asks about the thing that's been nagging at the back of his mind while trying to focus on their mission to return to camp, Steve hears something. There's life out there, somewhere, but he doesn't think that it's so close that they might be in immediate danger, takes more care in his steps just in case and focuses solely on his eyes and ears, and sticking closer than necessary to Bucky as if this will ultimately protect him from anything that might approach.

When he speaks his voice is low, audible enough for Bucky to hear, but should there be anyone or anything nearby they would miss it. ] It's not just you. Keep walking, stay alert, and-- [ It happens so quickly, and Steve freezes for a second, the realisation of what's happening catching up and sinking in. But he doesn't move quite as fast as he ought to, managing to charge forward and use every ounce of strength to throw Bucky ahead of them and towards the cover of a giant boulder. But the trap is already set, and he catches sight of the HYDRA uniform in the distance, something rustling from beneath the mud and fallen leaves, and he knows then he's probably not going to make it. ]

BUCKY, RUN. GO. [ He turns just in time to see the explosion lift up from the ground and carry along to where he's stood, the impact of it picking him up and throwing him through the air, and it feels as if his flesh is on fire, his stomach and side taking the brunt of it and then his head taking a heavy knock as he collides with something hard on landing. And as Steve grabs at himself in agony, trying to hold it together, his mind foggy as he flits in and out of reality, ears ringing from the blast and smoke filling his lungs as fire sits in its wake, there's only one thought left on his mind.

He croaks, coughs, curling in on himself and trying to find his feet, the weight of his shield lying over his arm from where it's fallen free of his shoulder reminding him that he didn't reach for it soon enough. ] B-Bu-Bucky.

[ The men who survived the attack yesterday must have returned to clean up the mess, to make sure that there was nothing left to identify should anyone return for evidence, for signs of where else they might find more HYDRA facilities. But the world could be ending and all Steve wants to know, needs to find, is his friend, his best friend, the man he happens to be madly and deeply in love with, and someone who he dragged out here, that he put in danger. He needs to see that he's unharmed, and kill everyone who put him in danger if he isn't. It helps him to hold on, to try and stay conscious, but beneath the shock is the pain, the reality of how badly he's torn up, and he can barely roll let alone crawl or climb to his feet. ]

Edited 2011-12-04 00:38 (UTC)

[ The force with which Steve throws him knocks the air out of his lungs, Bucky's back hiting the boulder just as the blast rips through the forest. His cry is lost in his throat even as he starts scrambling inside his jacket, fingers closing over the handle of his gun before he knows it. There aren't that many HYDRA men, but he can't see Steve through the smoke, and he doesn't have much time. Blam-blam-blam, the rounds of his pistol find their targets, men falling down as each bullet embeds between their shoulder blades, Bucky's boots catching in the mud as he forces himself to his feet. ]

Steve! [ Voice breaking, fumes filling his lungs, but Bucky doesn't give it much thought as he runs towards where he last saw his friend, heart pounding in his chest. ] Steve. Jesus, where are you?

[ Another agent pulls out of nowhere, and Bucky's hand is moving before he knows it, blasting through his skull, panic making him unfeeling, forcing him to be crueler. ] Where the hell are you?

[ If Steve weren't so focused on finding Bucky, calling out to him, he probably wouldn't have been able to pick out the gunshots through the deafening ringing still preventing him from hearing anything coherently. But it makes him find the strength to crawl out from where the earth is burying him a little, mud and rubble sticking and catching onto his clothes, but he doesn't care, is in too much pain to really feel any of it anyway, because there's only one thing that matters right now and it isn't that he survives.

He coughs with every lungful of air, trying to fight his own body as he calls out to gain the volume he needs. ] B-Bucky! [ He stutters and stammers out the name over and over, the wet and sticky blood making it more apparent that he's in a bad way, and he tries to pull himself up with the aid of a tree trunk with the top half blown away until he hears his name being called. ] Bucky? You gotta get out of here.

[ Bucky ducks a blow from one of the HYDRA soldiers, grabs him by the shoulder to get his gun up and shoot through his stomach. He falls, and Bucky turns to the sound of Steve's voice, face going whiter than white, all blood draining from him because Steve looks bad, he looks awful, caked in blood and slumped against a tree. ]

Shit. Shit. Stay the fuck down, Rogers. [ Another round of gunfire tears through the air as Bucky picks them off one by one. ] I'm comin'.

[ With the action creeping closer, and consciousness remaining a little more in than out, Steve can hear the majority of the commotion and fears for Bucky. Moving in general is painful, but he reaches for the shield, struggling as he does, and his slick, sticky fingers slipping from the metal to leave crimson smears in their wake.

Even without the smoke to make visibility difficult, Steve needs to keep squinting to make anything out, and he uses what's left of the thick tree stump to hide behind. If he could grab onto the shield and keep hold, throwing it without a clear path of where it's headed could take Bucky out, and he knows that he can't take that risk.

With a feeble voice, unusually quiet and laced with involuntary groans of pain. ] Just go, Bucky, head for cover. I'll catch up.

[ The sound of Steve's voice, weak and injured, drives a cold spark of fear down his spine. He sounds like he did before, weak and dependant on Bucky, and he has to get to him, can't think of leaving him behind. Punching one of the soldiers out, Bucky scrambles across the dirt, hands curving around Steve's shoulders. ]

Hey, hey. I've got you. I've got you, Steve.

[ Leaning into the touch happens accidentally, Steve meaning to shake free and pull himself upright properly. But he can't, struggling to remain on his feet at all, and he can't help feeling grateful that he fought to get to him. It doesn't mean that he approves of the choice. ]

B-Buck, there's - you gotta get out of here - could be more. [ Trying to take a step forward, Steve stumbles and ends up leaning against the tree further, and when he finally looks down at himself he can see the source of the bleeding to be a deep wound in his side that spreads to the front.

He look at Bucky, blinking repeatedly as he tries to shake the black dots from his vision, and feels himself fading out again. ] Head back to camp. That's an order.

Fuck your orders. [ Bucky slides his arm around Steve's waist, tugging him closer without a word. He's losing a lot of blood, and there's a look on his face, unfocused and pained, that makes his mouth go dry, his heart begin to pound harder. ]

I am not leaving you out here to die, asshole. [ There are no more soldiers on the way, but he needs to hide them both just in case the smoke brings more of them. Heaving Steve half across his shoulder. ] C'mon, I saw a barn back there. Let's get you there and I can take a look at you, okay?

[ Steve tries to laugh because it's typical of Bucky not to take note of anything he says, but it hurts too much, comes out more as a choking noise than anything, and he tries to take on as much of his own weight as he physically can, but he's losing the battle quickly, limbs cold and weak, feeling heavy and useless.

He holds onto Bucky because he can't make himself let go, his grip tight despite how little energy he can muster, like he's holding onto him for dear life. Steve us stubborn, he would never just give in, but even with his super-strength and quick healing he knows this is bad. ] You're stupid, y'know that? I coulda taken care of myself, but you had to come back. [ He tries to take in the sight of his friend, check that he's okay, but he can't focus on anything. ] You hurt?

[ He's going to apologise about this when Steve's fine again, but for now he's practically dragging his body through the dirt, hand clasped over his wrist as tight as anything, holding him up. Bucky's breathing is laboured, and he grunts, fingers curling into Steve's waist. ]

I'm fine, okay? And you're gonna be fine too, ain't you kid? You're gonna be a-okay, you jus' gotta hang in there with me.

[ Trying desperately to believe it, Steve aims for a smile and ends up grimacing, one arm still holding onto Bucky with for all he's worth and the other wrapping around his wounded side and stomach as if to keep everything where it should be. ]

If I find out you're injured, soldier, there's gonna be trouble. Y'hear? [ And he means it, because he's more concerned about Bucky seeing it through this than himself, and he takes more weight now in spite on the pain, knowing he's going to pay for it later and not caring, because he's not a twig of a thing anymore, this must be killing Bucky just as much as it is himself. ] I'm fine, Buck, I heal quick, remember? Looks worse than it is.

Shut up. [ There's something high and panicked about Bucky's voice, Steve's blood coating his hand as he pulls him along. ] God, shut up. You've got blood everywhere, Steve. I don't care about your healing factor, you can't pull stupid stunts like that on me again, y'get me? [ Getting more and more agitated. ] You just can't, because I know you're trying to protect me, I get that, but I swear to god, you pull a dick move like that again, I'm gonna punch you flat out.

Shit. [ The barn is in view now, and he tries to get a better grip on him. ] Goddamnit, Steve.

[ The note of panic makes Steve do as he's told, eyebrows knitting together with his own concern, because to hear it coming from Bucky is unusual, must really mean that this could be as bad as he thought it might be.

He focuses instead on putting one foot in front of the other, breathing fast and hard through the pain and exertion of it, and he doesn't stop because he knows that when he does he won't be able to start again. He needs to squint to keep the blur out of his sights, but he sees the cabin and keeps going as best he can straight for it, stumbling as he drags as his feet over the ground. He knew it was wrong to feel cold with so much fire around them before, and now he feels it that much more that they're free of it. ] It's not so bad, Bucky, honest. Just need to rest for a while and I'll be back on my feet. No need to worry, huh?

Of course I'm gonna worry y'stupid son of a bitch. Jesus, you're shivering.

[ Bucky picks up the slack on Steve's weight, half yanks him over his shoulder, focusing solely on the cabin in front of them. Steve's body is trembling beside him, his gaze unfocused, and Bucky knows dying men, can't help the tears prickling the corner of his eye that he has to blink back. ]

It's gonna be a-okay, I got you, you know I ain't gonna let anything happen to you, buddy. Okay. Jus' breathe through it, all right?

[ Steve hasn't felt as vulnerable since being injected with the serum, and even before that, with some big guy throwing one punch after the other him and him down on the ground, bruised and bleeding, this is something else entirely. The emotion he can easily detect in Bucky is what kills him the most, though, because he knows that if he dies right here and right now then he's going to carry that with him forever. ]

I know you do, Bucky, I know you do. It's always been you and me, right? [ His voice is growing weaker, the energy to keep moving draining everything from him, and he's finding it difficult to breathe because of it. ] But it's okay, y'know, it's not your fault if I don't make it back. You gotta promise me you'll be careful, no matter what happens. Okay? You make it to camp and take care of yourself.

[ Voice dropping to something of a pained snarl. ] If you die on me, Rogers, I will personally seek out the nearest Nazi and let them put a bullet through my skull. I am not going home without you, okay? The only thing that's kept me going out here for so long is knowin' you'd still be there when I got back, y'take that away from me and that's it, I'm done.

[ Kicking the door of the hut open with a grunt. ] Don't even dare give in.

[ A weak laugh erupts from him, an agonised sound that is less to do with the open wounds and more to do with the unbearable thought of Bucky no longer existing whether he himself does or not. ] You know me, Buck, when do I ever give in without a fight? And there's no better incentive than to know it'll keep you alive. [ But whatever happens, if he doesn't make it, he just hopes that Bucky remembers that he could never blame him.

He feels himself slipping out of the hold, the heavy weight of his body becoming too much, and he aims himself at the floor of the old hut, releases his arms and holds his hands out to take the impact, groaning as he lands awkwardly and curls up into a groaning, wriggling mess. ] You're not dying today or any time soon, not if I have anything to do with it.

[ Bucky ends up crouched in front of him, face pinched in worry, all the colour drained from his face even as he wedges the door behind them. His hands shake as they curl around Steve's shoulders, blood smeared on his knuckles and his dark eyes frightened. ]

Then keep breathin', you stupid jerk. I don't wanna be a coward, Steve - [ He knows about those guys who walk into the line of fire rather than keep going, and his eyes slide away to his bag, pulling free the torn fabric of his shirt from the night before. His hands then move to the buckles of Steve's messed up uniform. ] But that's what I'll do if you die on me now, y'get me? I can't, not without you, buddy, okay? I jus' can't.

[ Steve can't talk, shock from the injury kicking in a little and emotions welling up to an overwhelming level. It hurts, but he raises a trembling hand, a slow and clumsy action, and he aims for Bucky's face despite his hand ending up making contact with his neck instead.

He puts every bit of focus he has on Bucky, blue eyes scared and intense, and he tries to shake him feebly to knock some sense into him. He sounds as scared as he looks, and none of it is for himself. ] You're not a coward, Bucky, you never could be. And however this ends you're not gonna give up that easily, I'd never forgive you. I'd never forgive myself. I took the hit for you 'cause I can't-- This war's not taking you down, y'hear?

[ His breathing is a shocked mess, Steve's hand a cool pressure against his neck, and that shouldn't be, because he's always burnt hot. Helping him shrug out of the jacket, his side a damp pool of blood, and Bucky swallows. ] You really think I know how to go on without you, huh? If you're gone, what's the point?

[ Pressing the shirt to his side. ] There'a a boy.

[ It takes everything that he has not to cry out, and he does his best to help uncover the open wounds littered over his side and stomach, small shards of shrapnel leaving their mark around the area along with the burnt flesh that Steve tries not to focus too much on.

One look and he wonders if even he can survive this, but he's willing to give it his all. ] You got plenty. Why d'you think I wanted to fight in this war in the first place? It's so idiots like you got their whole lives to look forward to once they make it home, don't gotta look over their shoulder all the time living in fear.

Shut up, Steve. [ Bucky's voice breaks slightly, because the damage is more extensive than he realises and he doesn't know what to do. He's not a medic, he knows more about inflicting wounds than healing them. But all he can do for now is try and stop him bleeding out, seal him back up if he's able to. ]

There isn't no future without you, get that into your thick skull, okay? I won't, I jus' won't.

You did just fine before you met me. [ He grimaces at the smear of blood his shaking hand leaves against Bucky's neck as he slowly comes down, but considering the amount of blood he seems to have transferred onto his clothing it's nothing in comparison.

Steve knows it's bad, tries to sit himself up enough to see the mess his body is in, hands desperately wobbling around in the air trying to grab hold of something useful. ] You're a survivor, you always were, even got me sticking up for myself. 'Sides, you got some dame out there to find, make a family with, and I promise I'm gonna hold on just to see a little version of you walking around.

There ain't no dame. [ Bucky's scrambling through his pack now, trying to find something he can use to tear off into bandages. ] There ain't nothing out there that I could possibly want if you're not with me.

[ Re-applying pressure on to Steve's side, huffing out a breath. ] Just - you can't leave me, buddy. I need you.

[ The shield and backpack are still hanging loosely over his shoulders, and without making his wounds worse Steve tries to shuffle himself free of them, the shield coming away first, which he pushes to the side, and then the bag, which makes him cry out in pain when he drops lower onto the ground, the jerk sending a burning pain up along his side. ]

There's a - a first aid box - down at the bottom. [ He tries to apply pressure to his own wounds, bits of his uniform helping a little, but everything is so covered it blood it doesn't do much. ] Please, Bucky, you gotta stop talking like that. We're soldiers, you know more than most how this works, and at least one of us needs to stick around to see this war won. If I can't then I need to know you will.

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