Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He….it’s…..

“Bucky!”

……..Tony…..that’s….worried

He breathes…..and…pain

….so much…..

Hurts

“Bucky, hey--”

Bucky’s hearing fades in and out like an old transistor radio and excruciating pain sinks its claws into him as his shoulder grinds into the stones of the driveway.

Just stop, please just stop, he mouths dryly, tongue clumsy in his mouth as he writhes, a scream bitten off behind his teeth as the gravel of the driveway digs into his shoulder and makes his vision go white.

Agonizing pain wracks his body and he grits his teeth so hard he tastes blood.

It tastes like Hydra.

He gags and tastes hot bile on his tongue, burning his throat. Tears burn in his eyes and he--

He can’t

He can’t do this

He wants to beg for a bullet but…

He sobs

Gut writhing with pain, he rolls onto his back, a guttural, wounded animal cry falling from his lips as his visions swims sickeningly.

He tastes bile again.

Blood too.

Footsteps

A body falls next to him and he flinches, expecting a blow from steel toed boots.

It doesn’t come.

He sort of wishes it had.

“Hey, hey, what do you need me to do?” Tony asks desperately, and he forces his eyes open, swallowing hard against the urge to retch, the sunlight piercing and sharp.

It’s….

He tries to focus. But.

A hand--there is--

On his face--it’s

Warm

Tony

spinning…Tony is…spinning?

Focus Soldat

Beautiful brown eyes

Tony

Huge with worry and---he wants--he wants--

To die

No

Tony

He…he tries to push through the pain, to focus.

He wants

stopstopstopstop

---for me!”

Tony

Worried

He blinks his eyes open and then winces at the agony of consciousness, a whine lodging in his throat because he can barely breathe let alone make a sound. “Tony?” he breathes out and shudders as his spine pulsates with pain and his lungs throb in his chest.

Tony smiles but….it’s wrong. “Hey I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re not looking so good there, hot stuff,” he says in a fake light voice and Bucky tries to work up a smile for him but---

It’s bad.

Something is wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Tony asks, voice desperate and Bucky wants to laugh, or cry maybe.

All wrong, it’s all wrong

He swallows a few times to get spit in his mouth so he can make words, but each time he does bile rises in his throat and he just---

End it, please, end it!

The voice echoes in his head and he screws his eyes shut for a moment as the sound of a surgical saw whines in his ears.

“The arm’s actin’ up,” he slurs out, mouth still not working right.

Nothing works right

“Do you want me to call someone? Or an ambulance?” Tony asks and Bucky clenches his jaw, the shake of his head minute but still enough to make his gorge rise and his skull pound with pain.

Breathe

He has to breathe.

“Well- what then? What do you want me to do?” Tony demands, desperation and panic starting to creep into his voice and---

Bucky grits his teeth against the heartbreak of hearing Tony’s voice like that on top of everything else. He shudders with each breath and bites back, kill me, because he can’t ever let Tony see….

But god…he wants it.

“Let me help you, please, there has there be something—”

Begging

Tony is begging and it turns his stomach.

He’s going to be fucking sick because he never wanted to hear Tony begging like this.

He blinks through the haze of tears clouding his eyes and reaches up with his good hand, nearly missing Tony’s wrist before his fingers close weakly around it and the white hot pain down his spine makes his breathing go ragged.

“I can’t, I don’t…”

“Please, just- just some scans or something, at least I might be able to tell you what’s wrong,” Tony begs and panic swells in his throat like a balloon and he can’t--he can’t breathe.

The whine of the surgical saw rises in his ears and he squeezes harder on Tony’s wrist, fear trembling through his limbs.

Not Tony

They can’t have Tony.

“Just some scans, and- and that’s it. I don’t have to do anything else, promise, whatever you want, I just- at least you’ll know how bad it is, because I gotta be honest snowflake, you’re looking pretty bad right now.”

Tony’s face is earnest and scared above him and he--

They can’t have Tony.

He tries to stay focused but the smell of ether fills his nose and his grip on Tony’s wrist goes loose.

“Hey, hey!”

The shake to his shoulder would make him scream if he had the energy, but the ether smell is growing stronger and the saw is so loud now….

The sun hurts his eyes but he looks up, bleary and teary while Tony begs, “Please, Bucky, let me help you, please. I want to help,” he pleads softly, reaching up to brush a couple more strands of hair from Bucky’s forehead and it feels so good, so warm.

He’s so cold.

Shock

It’s….he’s in shock.

“Please, let me help you. Do you trust me?”

Trust me trust me trust me

He does. He always did. He---

Nods

His gaze is as steady as he can make it, even as his vision swims and gut turns sickly.

Brown eyes.

Safety--he’s safe with Tony.

“Okay, okay thank you, so we just gotta get you inside and--”

Cotton

Iron

Grease

His breathing is slow, steady, and he smells….it’s familiar.

Tony?

Awareness comes….slowly.

There is a weight on top of him that’s--sheets. Soft, warm….safe.

He feels…

Better.

There is pain still, of course. But.

He can breathe now.

He hears someone else breathing and opens his eyes to find Tony watching him with wide, worried eyes.

He’s….in the cabin by the looks of it. Tony’s bedroom.

Because of the arm.

Tony smiles weakly at him and rises to his feet, “Hey,” he murmurs softly, voice hesitant and every line of his body is so cautious that Bucky goes tense--there is a threat here, one he can’t see and he needs to protect Tony.

“Are you, uh… you? I mean, you know, are you back with me?” Tony asks, brows rising expectantly and Bucky is---not sure what that means.

“Not sure where else I’d be,” he answers, voice hoarse and quiet, and he works up a smile but it feels unsettled on his face and he feels….he is out of alignment somehow. He goes to say more and coughs, grimacing at the taste of old bile and blood on his tongue.

Tony grabs a glass of water off the nearby table and a bottle of pills and then holds the glass steady while Bucky sips from it until it’s half empty and his head is slightly clearer.

The pain is less than before, so he can think a bit better, but everything still feels like he’s in a haze, brain foggy and sputtering like an old engine. He shifts uneasily and Tony hurries closer, brow furrowing, “Here- wait let me help you sit up,” he murmurs, and it’s as Bucky tries to move that he realizes--

The arm is dead.

He tries to move it and--

Nothing.

“What happened?” he asks as Tony gets him propped up on pillows, the weight of his arm tugging at his shoulder making his stomach turn sickeningly. Tony goes still for a moment and a very careful look fills his face alongside a weak smile.

“Well, you climbed out of the car and collapsed and just about gave me a heart attack,” he says, voice strained with worry. “So I brought you inside, and you woke up but uh, I guess you were… maybe in Winter Soldier mode. Or something.”

The floor plummets out from under him as Tony rambles on, his hands nervous and his voice too high but all Bucky can focus on is--

Winter Soldier mode.

“And I’ll be honest, okay, it took me a second to realize what was happening, but you- he- you were pretty chill honestly. Just asked for help with the arm but I figured I should talk to, you know, you you first, since last time you said—”

Winter Soldier mode.

“--but I didn’t want to risk you running off if I flat out refused, uh, no offense, and it was still clearly bothering you, so I um- had you walk me through disabling it before you passed out again.”

The report of a gun, the snap of a spine, the wet gurgle of blood--Winter Soldier mode.

“I’m sorry, I should have waited for you to wake up, actually wake up I guess, but I didn’t know what to do and- and you were hurting.”

Bucky stares in blank horror at Tony’s ducked head, every single murder he’s ever comitted flashing through his mind and a rising sense of revulsion fills him when they’re all replaced by Tony’s beautiful face.

The report of a gun, the snap of a spine, the wet gurgle of blood---

“Bucky?”

The soft, hesitant call of his name is what finally unfreezes his brain and his throat works hard for a moment, the words hard to find around the dread in his chest.

“What?” Bucky demands, voice harsh and broken, and his gaze flits to the corner where an Iron Man suit is standing, eyes dead and empty, but clearly there to protect Tony so something must have happened and his stomach rises in his throat--

“I- what?”

“You’re okay,” Tony reassures him and--that’s the last thing on his mind.

The glass in his fingers is plucked away and his attention snaps back to Tony, sickening terror in his chest as he runs his gaze over Tony again, searching for the injury he knows must be there.

“Everything’s okay,” Tony assures him, smile cracked and fake and Bucky feels like retching--he hurt him, he must have, he was---

Winter Soldier mode.

“--and I can- just power it back on no problem, if you want, or call someone, if--”

“Tony,” Bucky says firmly, cutting off his nervous rambling, and Tony’s attention jerks back to him, his movements unsteady and fractured and--afraid. Bile rises in his throat because Tony is--he’s--

Winter Soldier mode.

“Are you okay?” he demands, heart pounding in his chest as he looks Tony over again for the injury he knows must be there. It’s sickening, the idea that he could have--did--hurt Tony, but he--he needs to know how bad it is.

“Yes..?” Tony says slowly, brow furrowed in confusion as he looks himself over and then back to Bucky. His hand spasms where it’s clutching the sheets and he swallows hard against the relief that wants to surge into his chest.

He knows Tony, and he knows that he’ll lie to protect Bucky from himself so he--he shifts and pushes at the blankets because clearly, he’s going to have to see for himself what Tony’s hiding.

The shift tears a groan from his throat and he can feel cold sweat on his brow but he has to--

“Hey, hey, I’m fine,” Tony tells him firmly, gaze open and honest as he pushes Bucky back against the pillows, his brow furrowed with concern. “Seriously, whatever it is you’re imagining that’s putting that look on your face, I’m going to need you to take it down about ten notches. Everything is fine, you’re fine, I’m clearly fine, I’ll even do a little twirl for you if it’ll make you feel better and you promise not to jump up and pull something.”

Bucky hears him, but he can’t help looking at the armor in the corner and wondering if he can make it to the door and get away before it would stop him. In the state he’s in, he stands almost no chance against it and in a sick way, he’s grateful because if he had hurt Tony, he’d want--

Well.

What he deserved.

He finally looks back to Tony and studies his face, looks for the signs of falsehood, but all he sees is wariness, concern, and hope. His heart thunders in his chest and he feels on the verge of passing out again from the movement, his breathing reedy and shallow so he forces himself to slow down and center himself as best he can.

He lifts his brow and watches carefully when Tony finally picks up on his silent request and does a twirl, arms out at his sides to demonstrate how uninjured he is. It should make him feel better, but--

Winter Soldier mode.

He settles back against the pillows and tries to unclench his jaw, but everything inside him is tense and ready to leap into action as he asks again, “What happened?”

Tony nods and takes a slow, shaky breath before he goes back and tells the story again, more detailed this time, voice still nervous and too quick.

There’s something, there must be.

And then he tells it again when Bucky demands it, certain that there’s something he’s holding back, something that he won’t say. Bucky knows what he’s like when he’s--

So.

There must be something.

And again.

But there’s nothing.

After the third retelling he can at least start to believe that he hadn’t hurt Tony while he was--

But he so easily could have--

“Now that you are awake,” Tony says slowly, “Is- is there anyone you want me to call?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s afraid Bucky will say yes. Bucky stares up at him, and feels utterly lost. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He’d found Tony--or--they’d found each other and--it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He’s suddenly filled with impotent rage at Hydra, the arm, the pain--all of it.

“Oh! I do have a list for you,” Tony says quickly, gesturing toward the laptop on the end table. “All the information I was able to get from the scans and I- um, listed out all the work that needs done if you want- I mean, if there’s someone you trust to--”

Someone you trust

Do you trust me?

“Tony,” he cuts in, the name thick in his mouth as emotion swells in his chest. “I don’t trust myself,” he says slowly, and then waits patiently as Tony stares at him blankly for a moment, blinking rapidly till it seems to click for him.

“Oh,” he breathes, understanding dawning on his face, and he nods slowly before giving Bucky a careful smile, “I think it went okay.”

The sheer recklessness of that statement makes him wish that his arm was activated so that even if the pain of it did kill him, he could still take Tony by the shoulders and shake him for being so stupid. “But what if it didn’t?” he demands, panic rising in his chest slowly and he shakes his head, “what if I- all it takes is a second of JARVIS not being fast enough and I could have...”

The report of a gun, the snap of a spine, the wet gurgle of blood---

His stomach turns and he grits his teeth as the sound of Tony dying, over and over again, plays on stereo inside his head.

A hand lands on his thigh and the volume lowers.

“As we’ve already determined, I’m fine,” Tony reminds him gently and his eyes are so--Bucky wants to look away because he doesn’t deserve to be looked at like that, like he’s worthy of affection and worry. Not when he could have--“so there’s no point worrying what might have happened.”

Bucky wants to laugh at that, but it’s ugly and knotted up inside him so he tries instead to focus on Tony’s thumb and the way it’s caressing his thigh, the steady repetitive motion of it soothing if he allows it to be.

“More importantly... I swear I’m not trying to push you, tell me to fuck off and I will, but... something has to happen with your arm, it’s not going to stop hurting until you get it cleaned out and rewired at least. I get that- okay I can’t possibly get it but I understand that you don’t want to risk losing control, but it’s tearing you apart you have to-”

Bucky hears the catch in Tony’s voice and can see the tension in his body and he wants to assure Tony it’s going to be okay but he’s in no shape to do that right now, not when he’s not sure that anything will be okay ever again after this.

“You should really consider letting someone- letting me help you, fuck, please let me help you. We can do whatever it takes to make you more comfortable, get more suits on guard or just knock you out entirely, there has to be something--”

His voice nearly cracks and he tucks his hands behind his back and Bucky’s chest swells with agonizing sorrow because he’s done this--he came into Tony’s life and knew what their history was and yet he stayed anyway, because he’s a selfish dick who craved the way Tony looked at him and laughed at his stupid jokes and blushed when he called him darlin’.

And now he’s done this.

He’s done this, and he can’t undo it without causing even more pain and he wishes fervently that Hydra had just--

“I want to help,” Tony says softly, heartfelt and voice thick with emotion.“If you want me to. Anything I can do.”

Bucky stares up at his beautiful face and curses himself because he knows how much Tony wants to help, how much this means to him but he can’t. He needs to leave, and never look back.

The report of a gun, the snap of a spine, the wet gurgle of blood---

“I….I can’t,” he whispers, and he can feel Tony’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t look up at him. He pushes himself up with his good arm and grits himself against the rush of agony and the excruciating way that the dead arm rests limply in the sling, the weight of it pulling on his shoulder socket and spine where it had been welded into place.

Getting fully upright makes him lightheaded and nauseated, but he does it, ignoring the way that Tony watches him the whole time, his mind racing so loudly that Bucky can practically hear him coming up with arguments and objections.

He needs to go.

He tries to swing his legs out of bed and immediately hisses in pain as his spine is wracked in agony and his head swims violently. He hears Tony step up hurriedly, but his vision swims and he collapses heavily back against the pillows with a low, ragged sound of pain. He just wants…god he wants to hear his mother’s sweet voice singing in Hebrew, her fingers cool on his brow, and he chokes on an exhausted sob.

“Please,” Tony begs softly, “let me help you.”

Bucky avoids his gaze, trying to find a way to hold out, but the moment he looks away from the door and up to Tony’s sweetly pleading face his will crumbles. “Can you... show me the plan you have?” he asks tiredly, because maybe that will buy him some time to figure out a plan for how to get out of here so Tony will be safe.

“You want to see the security precautions,” Tony says knowingly, a weak smile on his face that makes Bucky’s chest hurt.

His own smile in return is barely there and a breath away from crumbling into tears, but he manages to hold onto it. “I want to see the security precautions,” he agrees.

Tony hurries to grab his laptop before sidling up to the bed and tilting the screen so Bucky can see what looks like a whole presentation with graphics, data and charts--and it’s so Tony that he can’t breathe around the fondness that fills his chest.

“So for starters, the workshop has a lockdown that I think would give even you trouble,” Tony tells him with a wry grin, “and of course JARVIS can take control of as many suits as you feel necessary to stand sentry. Plus there’s always sedatives, if you really want to go all out.”

Sedatives are…not a bad idea actually.

He looks up from the screen and gives Tony a half smile before the pain in his shoulders make it untenable to maintain the angle. He pats the bed beside him and very nearly smiles for real when Tony hurries around the bed and then very carefully crawls up beside him--his care for Bucky’s pain evident in the way he checks his movements as he goes to ensure that Bucky isn’t being jostled.

“What about restraints?” he asks as Tony settles in, his fingers tapping out a nervous tattoo on his thigh now that Tony is this close--he’s so much closer to danger like this, Bucky could easily lift his hand and wrap it around Tony’s throat and---

“Ohh, kinky,” Tony says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and Bucky just fixes him with a droll look because he’s too tired to laugh right now, even if it does spark amusement in him that Tony is clearly trying so hard to make him feel better and lighten the mood even a little. “I think we can probably work something out,” he says thoughtfully as he turns his attention to the screen, “if you really think it’s necessary on top of everything else.”

“I do,” Bucky says firmly, no hint of room for argument in his voice. He might loathe the restraints with every fiber of his being, but he’s not letting Tony anywhere near him again unless he’s securely tied down and sedated.

He pauses for a breath at that because when did he start thinking of this as something he’d actually let Tony do?

“Okay,” Tony says with a quick nod and then he’s typing rapidly and looking intensely thoughtful and Bucky knows there’s no going back now. “I’m assuming you want the suit-sentries too?” he asks, glancing up at Bucky to confirm his nod before continuing. “I have three suits here that are in working order, but if you want more I can have FRI fly a couple more from the tower.”

“No,” Bucky says slowly, because he doesn’t want Tony to have to do any more than he’s already willing to do for Bucky. This shouldn’t be--

It shouldn’t be like this.

“No, that should be fine,” he murmurs. He’s not sure how Tony will actually sedate him, given that nothing on the market has ever worked--Hydra had created their own formula to take him down and he shudders to think that Tony will have to do the same just so he can be safe from Bucky.

Winter Soldier mode.

When he finally looks up at Tony again, he’s closer to accepting that this is going to happen, but still, he lifts a brow and asks, “You have sedatives that’ll work on me?” and isn’t even a little surprised when Tony nods immediately, face brightening.

“Of course!” he exclaims, “And painkillers,” Tony says, nodding towards the bottle he left on the nightstand beside the glass of water, “the good stuff, I still had a bottle stashed in one of my suits. I will have to have the sedatives carted out from the compound though, maybe one of the suits can do that and then hey, we’ll have another one here to shove into the workshop. Neither of us will be able to move around.”

Tony grins at him widely, clearly inviting Bucky to join him in accepting this, but he resists--his smile is more of a grimace and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s making a huge mistake by letting Tony anywhere near his arm. They’re goddamn lucky that when he’d reverted to--that when he’d been--

He hadn’t been that calm when he’d first been taken and needed servicing.

He’d been a feral animal that had broken more than one scientists’ neck before they’d changed the conditioning he’d received and he’d finally broken.

“How would you feel about spending the night here?”

Tony’s question snaps him out of his reverie and he’s still processing it when Tony barrels onward.

“Or- or maybe even the weekend? I can get all the work done in a day I think, but it’ll take most of the day and I think tomorrow will be best if- if you don’t have work or anything.” Tony sounds nervous, but he also won’t look up from the laptop when Bucky tries to catch his eye. He bites his lip and then continues, “And at that point really you might as well just stay the whole weekend, if you can. Get some rest. Make sure nothing else goes horribly wrong and my handiwork doesn’t explode or anything.”

That affection is back again, and Bucky has to look away so Tony won’t look up and see the tears in his eyes or the way that his lips are quivering. “Tryin’ to take care of me again?” Bucky asks finally, voice hoarse and cracked with emotion, but when he looks up he’s managed to get a smile onto his lips while he waits for Tony to respond.

Tony blinks at him for a moment and then does a face that very clearly portrays mischievous innocence--and it’s so Tony that Bucky can’t help but smile wider when Tony grins at him before huffing out a soft laugh and admitting, “Yep, you caught me. If... if you’ll let me, I mean.”

Bucky would probably let Tony do any damn thing he wanted if it would make him happy, and that’s why, even though he’s still tense with worry and certain that something is going to go wrong, he nods and agrees. “I’d have to call out tomorrow, but... I think I can do that,” Bucky says slowly--the guys at the shop had tried to get him to call out nearly all week when they saw how bad his pain was, but he’d brushed it off and pushed through and now--

Well, he’s not so stupid he can’t learn his lesson.

The smile on his lips falls when he suddenly realizes what Tony’s offering--a whole weekend, here at the cabin, away from the work that keeps cities running on renewable energy, keeps clinics stocked with medicine, and generally makes the world a better and more tolerable place. He can’t take Tony away from his life--he’ll manage by himself, he’ll be fine. “What about- I can’t ask you to give up your whole weekend like that,” he says, shaking his head firmly. “I’ll be fine at my apartment Sunday, you don’t need to-”

“Hey, maybe I could use the break from the city too,” Tony interrupts with a teasing grin, and Bucky frowns at him, not at all convinced that Tony isn’t just saying it to make him feel better. “Seriously, you’re not pulling me away from anything important, I was planning on working on pet projects all weekend anyways,” Tony tells him, expression wavering for a moment before going painfully sincere and concerned. “And I’d rather... I’d rather be here, making sure you’re okay,” he says quietly, voice low and soft, like he thinks Bucky is going to reject him out of hand and he hates it--he hates that he’s done that to Tony.

He hates the way Tony has looked away and his fingers are tapping nervously on his thigh, like he’s waiting for judgment and to be pronounced unworthy, so Bucky slowly reaches over to place his hand over Tony’s and stops the nervous motion of his fingers by capturing them with his own. He caresses the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb and swallows hard when he feels the delicate bones under his skin--he’s so breakable, and even with his arm disabled it would be a moment’s effort and Tony’s hand would be crushed.

"Are you sure?” Bucky asks finally, his gaze moving over Tony’s face as he searches out any hesitancy. No matter how kind the offer is, he won’t do this if Tony is scared of him at all. “You don't have to do this, it's- I'm dangerous, even with all the precautions. If something goes wrong I could...” He trails off, jaw clenching shut as the sound of a neck snapping echoes in his head.

“Are you sure you want to do this?" Bucky asks again, heart heavy in his chest as he gazes steadily at Tony.

"Yes," Tony says quickly, and when Bucky lifts a brow at him and frowns skeptically, he says it again--"Yes, I'm sure.” He holds Bucky’s gaze and nods, squeezing Bucky’s hand reassuringly, “I want to help you,” he says, “if- as long as you’re comfortable with it.”

If it weren’t for the utter sincerity in his voice, Bucky might tell him that he’s not comfortable with this and that he’d like to leave, but instead, he lets out a shuddering breath and then lifts their joined hands carefully, fighting to keep the pain off his face as he presses a kiss to the back of Tony’s hand. “I’m comfortable with you,” he says softly, lips still brushing against Tony's skin, "I just can't stand the thought of you gettin' hurt because of me. I told you before sweetheart, I’d rather cut my hand off than use it to hurt you. And that includes ripping this metal one right out of its socket if that's what it comes down to."

Tony lets out a startled laugh and then shakes his head, his smile wavering, "Again, I don't think that will be necessary," Tony says, and Bucky can hear the emotion in his voice, see how he’s struggling to keep it together for moment and he just….he aches to hold Tony right now. "How about you just let me fix it, nothing will go wrong, and we'll keep that as plan Z, deal?" Tony says teasingly, voice a little stronger, and Bucky nods, his smile soft and fond.

"Deal," Bucky says, and the agreement doesn’t come easy, but he’s smart enough to know that if he didn’t accept this from Tony, that he would have had to walk away from him--from them--forever. There’s no way he could have rejected Tony and still kept him--he’d be little better than the doms Tony’s had before, and if he’d rip his arm off not to hurt Tony with it, then he’d damn sure rip out whatever it is inside him that makes him so scared to let Tony close if it means keeping him.

He presses another kiss to Tony's knuckles before lowering their hands to rest between them, throat thick as he murmurs, “Thank you, Tony,” and tries very hard to let it be seen on his face how much he appreciates Tony’s willingness to help him. Tony makes a sputtery, flustered sound, and his cheeks turn a pleasant pink color that makes Bucky want to kiss him.

“You- you’re welcome,” Tony finally manages and Bucky’s chest warms with affection at the look of flushed pleasure on his face. “It'll be fine, you’ll see,” Tony assures him and Bucky must still look at least a little unsure because he gives Bucky an exaggerated wink and adds, “And besides who here isn't dangerous?”

Bucky huffs out a laugh and then goes rigid with pain, arching back into the pillows so his head rests against the headboard as he tries to breathe through the rising tide of excruciating pain that’s been mostly pushed aside so he could focus on Tony and this conversation. “You should take one of those pills now,” Tony says, nodding to the bottle again, "or- they do kick in pretty quickly, do you want to hear the work I have planned for your arm first?"

Bucky nods minutely and then focuses on Tony’s voice as an anchor against the swell of agony that makes his breathing go shallow and reedy. He listens intently to the plan for his arm and nods occasionally, but mostly he tries not to throw up and ruin Tony’s duvet that he’s currently wrapped up in. "And then last thing before I close it all up, I'll install the strobe lights and disco balls," Tony finishes, grinning widely when Bucky looks up at him--the last few minutes he’d spaced out a little too much so it’s disorienting to try and parse that last bit, and then it sinks in a bit more and he gives Tony a flat, unimpressed stare that’s all bluster and backed by affection.

“Very funny, wise guy,” Bucky murmurs, voice rough and low as he thumps their joined hands against the bed, "feel real smart, picking on injured people?” he teases gently, a ripple of pleasure running through him at the way Tony looks so happy to be verbally sparring with him like they normally do.

“I do,” Tony says with a decisive nod and a grin before he takes Bucky completely by surprise and leans over to kiss his temple. Bucky is still sitting there, stunned, when Tony hands him a few pills and gives him a firm look alongside the glass of water that comes with them. "Now take these," he orders, watching as Bucky nods dutifully and then swallows them down and finishes off the water.

“I'm guessing those were made for Steve?” he asks, wishing he had more water to chase the bitter taste from the fast dissolving pills off his tongue.

Tony nods, “Yep, after the dummy broke both his legs in multiple places,” he says as he takes the empty water glass from Bucky and then hovers nervously for a moment, gaze uncertain before it clears and he smiles at Bucky. "I'll get you more water,” he says in a rush, backing towards the door, "you decide what you wanna do now, you can sleep more, or- eat dinner. I'll get us some dinner. By which I mean I'll order it. And there's a bunch of books here, or... movies. Think about it, I'll be right back."

Bucky nods and watches him go, and once he’s out of sight he allows himself to sink back into the pillows and groan softly in pain, tears once again threatening to fall as he finally loses the battle against the pain that he’s been desperately trying to ignore so he could focus on Tony. His body shivers in pain and he pants heavily, good hand flexing in the sheets over and over again as he listens to Tony walk around downstairs muttering to himself softly, and he forces himself to once again just focus on the soft, distant sound of Tony’s voice.

Affection swells within him and it’s so warm and good that he closes his eyes and smiles, breathing a little easier with it in his chest and--it almost feels like the pain is better because it’s there. He wriggles a little bit and hums when it doesn’t hurt, so he does it again and shifts down the pillows a little bit, enjoying the soft texture of them against his sensitive skin.

They smell so good and he turns his face into one, inhaling the scent of Tony off of them and wiggling his toes happily.

He’s with Tony--that’s, that’s the best place he could ever be because he adores Tony and he’ll get to see Tony smile and laugh, and maybe if he’s lucky he’ll even get to kiss him which would be great because Bucky really kinda lo--

Tony steps back into the room and his heart leaps in his chest. “Dinner is on its way,” Tony tells him, “and it’s being delivered by a drone named HipperThanU, which I thought you would enjoy.” He winks at Bucky and Bucky grins, so big it feels like his face is funny--like a silly mask, but it’s not a mask it’s--it’s just Tony.

Bucky nods sloppily, “I do enjoy that,” he says, still grinning widely, and the answering smile on Tony’s face makes him wiggle his toes happily again. He pats the bed beside him and grins at Tony, “Now why don’t you come back here and tell me about your week, baby?” he invites, pleasure rippling through him as Tony hurries over to the bed with a warm smile on his face.

“Oof, I don’t know if we have enough time,” Tony says playfully, careful as he sets the water down on the nightstand beside him. “We’re only going to be here all weekend,” he jokes and Bucky snorts and giggles at the same time and it’s so silly that it makes him laugh harder for a minute, the euphoria inside him warm and cozy as Tony smiles fondly at him.

He wants to touch Tony more, but his arm--it’s not working. He frowns at it for a moment and then remembers that he wanted to say something to Tony and it takes a minute for it to reach him, like he’s at the bottom of the ocean and it has to sink down to him slowly. When it does, he grins, teasing and hot as he crooks a brow at Tony and says, “That’s more than enough time for me baby.”

When Tony laughs and turns pink in the face Bucky swells with pleasure and thinks yea, this is going to be a good weekend.

Chapter Text

Tony knows he should probably do something about his wide, obvious smile as he watches Bucky climb out of the back seat of the car, but his face doesn’t seem to be listening to his instruction to get it together.

In the next second though it doesn’t matter, Tony feels his smile quickly dropping away as notices the fact that Bucky’s face is sheet-white, his motions careful and obviously pained as he slowly pushes himself up to standing. The weak attempt at a smile that Bucky gives him when he notices Tony watching does not make Tony feel any better, and Tony takes a halting step forward before he forces himself to stop. Bucky is already making his way to the cabin, one slow, agonizing looking step at a time, and Tony isn’t even supposed to know that he’s in pain. Granted it’s kind of super obvious at this point, but Bucky hasn’t actually said anything about it and he probably doesn’t want Tony hovering—

Then Bucky starts to tilt, starts to fall, and even as Tony shouts Bucky’s name and all but throws himself down the stairs of the porch he knows he’s too far to do anything. All he can do is watch as Bucky hits the ground hard on his left side, and the scream Bucky lets out has Tony’s skin crawling, his blood running cold in his veins.

“Bucky! Bucky, hey—” Tony isn’t even listening to himself as he drops to his knees and practically skids to a stop at Bucky’s side, too busy being concerned with the way Bucky is still writhing in pain and making the most gut-wrenching hurt noises.

Bucky finally rolls onto his back, hair clinging to his forehead and eyes bright, and before he can think better of it Tony reaches out to cup his cheek. Bucky doesn’t flinch away from him at least, so Tony carefully uses his thumb to brush a piece of hair away from Bucky’s eye and does his best to slap a reassuring smile on his face.

“Hey, hey, what do you need me to do?” Tony asks desperately, because he doesn’t know, and when Bucky’s gaze shifts to meet his own Tony’s chest clenches at the unmasked pain and hopelessness in his eyes. Tony is holding his breath, he's listening so hard for an answer, but Bucky just blinks slowly like he hadn’t even registered the question, and then his eyes roll back in his head as he goes completely limp against the ground. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” Tony mutters to himself as he quickly looks Bucky over, trying to figure out what he should do.

Bucky is still breathing at least, which is always a good sign, albeit ragged and shallow, and even unconscious his face is twisted in obvious agony. Apparently the driver of the town car has gotten out to see what all the fuss is about, and Tony holds up a hand to stop him as he starts to round the car. It seems like letting people crowd around Bucky while he’s unconscious and in pain is probably a bad idea, hell Tony doesn’t even know if he should be this close, if Bucky wants him to be seeing this.

Tony also doesn’t know what he is supposed to do now though, he doesn’t know if Bucky would want him to call Sam, or Steve, or someone else entirely. Maybe Bucky doesn’t want him to call anyone, maybe Tony should just take him to a hospital, in which case Tony is definitely going to need the driver’s help getting Bucky into the car, but he doesn’t know. He has no idea what Bucky would want him to do, because they’ve never talked about it, Bucky hadn’t even told Tony that it’s this bad and Tony is lost.

“Hey,” Tony says again and swallows thickly to steel himself before shifting his hand to Bucky’s right shoulder and shaking him gently, “hey, wake up sunshine.” Bucky twitches slightly, like he’s trying to flinch away from Tony’s shaking, but doesn’t otherwise move and his eyes stay firmly closed. Tony is doing his best to fight down the rising panic, but he might not quite succeed because his next shake of Bucky’s shoulder might be edging into too rough and Tony’s voice comes out a little loud and strangled as he says “Bucky, Bucky! Hey, you gotta wake up for me.”

Bucky’s eyes slowly blink open, but Tony’s split second of relief is ruined when Bucky immediately winces and fails to completely bite down a pained noise. At least when his eyes land on Tony’s face he looks slightly more lucid, but his voice is weak and rasping as he asks “Tony?”

“Hey,” Tony says with what he’s sure is a weak attempt at a smile, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re not looking so good there, hot stuff.” It’s not the best thing Tony could have said, might in fact be the worst thing he could have said, but Bucky’s lips twitch like he’s trying to smile and Tony sternly tells himself to get it together, he has more important things to focus on right now than his own lack of tact. “What’s wrong?” He asks, because asking if something is wrong is kind of pointless when the answer is pretty fucking clear.

“The arm’s actin’ up,” Bucky grits out, and then has to pause to take deep breaths, apparently struggling to remain conscious. It’s also not a super helpful answer when that much is obvious, and Tony has to bite down the million questions that want to spill out of him.

“Do you want me to call someone? Or an ambulance?” Tony asks, instead of if Bucky knows what’s wrong, or if Tony can help, because finding out what Bucky actually wants him to do while Bucky is still awake to answer him is the most important thing.

But Bucky just clenches his jaw and shakes his head minutely, his breathing going slow and deep in what is clearly an attempt to just fight through the pain, and that is not going to fly.

“Well- what then? What do you want me to do?” Tony demands, desperation and panic starting to creep into his voice because Bucky’s chest has started hitching every couple of breaths like he’s trying not to sob and Tony can’t just do nothing. And then, before he can stop the words from slipping out, Tony blurts “let me help you, please, there has there be something—”

Bucky's eyes go a little wild and his right hand snaps up to grab clumsily for Tony’s wrist as he rasps out “I can’t, I don’t…”

“Please, just- just some scans or something, at least I might be able to tell you what’s wrong,” Tony pleads, and he doesn’t know what he’ll actually do with that information but it’ll be a hell of a lot more than he knows now. Bucky’s face somehow goes impossibly paler, what looks a lot like fear starting to edge in beneath the pain, and Tony hurries to add “Just some scans, and- and that’s it. I don’t have to do anything else, promise, whatever you want, I just- at least you’ll know how bad it is, because I gotta be honest snowflake, you’re looking pretty bad right now.”

Bucky’s eyebrows crease and Tony dares to hope that means he’s actually considering it, although for all Tony knows it just means the pain is getting worse and there has to be something Tony can do. Even if it’s only getting thorough scans so that Bucky can take them to someone else to fix him up, anything—

Abruptly Bucky’s eyes start to fall closed again, his grip on Tony’s wrist going slack, and Tony swears his heart stops dead in his chest.

“Hey, hey!” Tony nearly shouts, shaking Bucky’s shoulder again and then shaking him a little harder when his eyes continue to droop, “please, Bucky, let me help you, please.” Tony is well aware that he’s full on begging at this point, but it’s at least enough to have Bucky’s eyes focusing on him again, wet and red-rimmed. “I want to help,” he pleads softly, reaching up to brush a couple more strands of hair from Bucky’s forehead, “please, let me help you. Do you trust me?”

Bucky’s eyelids flutter, a strangled whine escaping his throat, and for a moment it looks like he’s going to pass out again before he can answer, but then he nods. The motion is small, like even that is almost more than Bucky can manage, but his gaze stays steady and focused on Tony. The trust in his eyes is almost buried beneath pain but it’s still there and it makes Tony’s heart lift just a little at the thought that at least he can do something, it might just be some scans but Bucky actually trusts him to help.

“Okay, okay thank you, so we just gotta get you inside and-“ Tony’s nervous rambling cuts off when Bucky finally loses his battle with unconsciousness and goes completely limp against the ground, his hand falling away from Tony’s wrist. “Shit,” Tony mutters, because getting Bucky inside is going to be much more difficult without Bucky awake to help and he looks around desperately for a second.

His eyes land on the driver, still standing awkwardly by the front of the car and looking more confused than anything, but Tony quickly dismisses the idea of asking for his help. Bucky is pretty much solid muscle, and both Tony and the driver distinctly aren’t, they’re pretty likely to just hurt Bucky more if they try to wrestle him inside.

“I’ve got it from here,” he tells the driver with a bright smile, as if this is an everyday occurrence, no reason to be concerned or stick around, and thank god with the strict NDAs he knows the driving service uses, he doesn’t have to worry about any gossip coming from this at least. “Hey J,” he says, knowing JARVIS will be able to hear it from the mic in his watch, “can you send the suit out to collect our sleepy guest here?”

He can see that the driver is dying to ask questions, especially once the armor zooms over from around the back of the cabin, but all he does is nod and climb back into the car. Getting Bucky off the ground is a bit of an ordeal, especially because Tony doesn’t know exactly how he’s hurt, but in the end Tony just has the AI-directed suit scoop him up and does his best too make sure Bucky’s head doesn’t go flopping all over the place. He’s sure it looks a little silly, but that’s pretty much Tony’s last concern right now and Tony barely even registers the sound of the car pulling away as he follows the armor into the cabin.

Tony has JARVIS take Bucky directly to the workshop and then glances around in a panic for a second, trying to figure out where to actually set Bucky. The stools and rolling chairs certainly won’t cut it, and Tony is about to settle for laying him out on the table and trying to work around him when he remembers the crate of emergency medical supplies. It’s standard in all of his workshops at this point, Tony hadn’t even thought about it before having it shipped out here with everything else for the set-up, though when Pepper questioned it he had had quite a bit of fun insisting he was preparing for increasingly ridiculous forest-based injuries.

This might not be a rabid bear attack, but Tony is incredibly glad that he tends to over prepare because it means there’s an emergency cot that he can pull out and scramble to set up near enough to his worktable that he’ll be able to get some good scans without tripping all over Bucky. Once that’s done he has the armor set Bucky down, which at least goes slightly more gracefully than picking him up had, then JARVIS stands aside in case Tony needs any more heavy lifting done. Tony carefully heaves the metal arm up onto the worktable himself, which is way heavier than he expects, and Tony winces at the thought of Bucky having to lug this around all day every day.

Jesus, no wonder he’s in pain, probably has been for ages, but Tony shoves that line of thought aside for now. First and foremost Tony needs to figure out what has Bucky’s pain suddenly so bad that he’s collapsing because of it, and after that he can figure out what Bucky actually wants to do about it, if he actually wants Tony’s help at all.

“Alright J, lets gets working,” Tony says, dropping into one of his rolling stools and forcing himself to focus, “I want all the information we can possibly get without disturbing him, scan for structure and electrical systems and anything else you can get. I want answers by the time sleeping beauty wakes up.”

Once again, being an over-prepared workaholic pays off, Tony didn’t cut any corners when he was building this workshop even though he wasn’t supposed to actually be using it much, and it means in no time at all data is pouring across the holoscreens and a digital rendering of the metal arm begins to build itself layer by layer as every inch of the arm is thoroughly scanned. Tony’s gaze shifts almost constantly between the displays and Bucky himself, checking for any signs of distress even though there’s no way Bucky physically could feel the scanning process. As far as Tony knows. Even asleep, Bucky's face is twisted with agony, pale and drenched with a cold sweat, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s getting worse.

It takes longer than Tony will ever admit to even make sense of what he’s looking at, everything about the arm is so poorly designed that it honestly hurts a little to even look at. And sure, it was built and installed over sixty years ago and it was impressive for the time, but it’s still obvious that there was zero consideration put into the toll the arm would take on the person using it. The materials were clearly chosen for strength and durability, no thought given to weight or the strain it would put on Bucky’s skeleton to just attach anchor points directly to bone. Tony is sure enhanced strength is the only reason Bucky manages to lug this thing around all day as it is, and that's even before taking into account that the only power source Tony can find seems to be Bucky himself. Which certainly explains why the arms is still working after all this time, if not how Bucky is managing to go about his life with it tugging on his joints and sapping his energy.

Tony supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Hydra takes less than stellar care of their super assassins, but he still is. Surprised and horrified and a little nauseous, honestly, and Tony really wishes he couldn’t so perfectly imagine what the healing process must have been like, even with the serum, that he didn’t have such a well preserved memory of the smell of infected skin and metal.

At least figuring out how the arm works means he can start figuring out what’s gone wrong. Which turns out to be more of a list of things wrong.

Most of them should be relatively easy fixes, like the cluster of wires near the elbow that have lost their coating and are undoubtedly causing all sorts of weird feedback, some plates that aren’t fitting together the way they should anymore and countless other small things. None of it should take too long to fix individually, but all together it'll be a hell of an undertaking, and Tony can’t actually do anything until Bucky wakes up.

There are also some strange readings coming from deeper in the arm than the scans can’t quite reach, which will probably need to be actually looked at before Tony can determine what’s going on. But even the simple surface level fixes should help a lot with what must be constant pain and discomfort.

But there’s no way of knowing how long Bucky will be unconscious, it could be minutes or hours and Tony doesn’t love the idea of just leaving him in pain until he eventually wakes up on his own. On the other hand though, for all he knows waking Bucky up is the worst thing he could do.

Bucky does look exhausted, like he’s been running on nothing but fumes for days now and he could probably use any amount of sleep. Assuming Bucky finds passing out from pain to be in any way restful. Tony never particularly has, but who knows.

He debates what he should do back and forth with himself as he alternates between glancing over at Bucky and continuing to look through the scans, idly making notes on everything that needs done for... whoever Bucky ends up wanting to do the repairs for him.

Tony is sure he completely fails to cover his surprise when he looks over again and finds that Bucky is abruptly awake.

Bucky hasn't moved or said anything, but his eyes are wide as they dart quickly around the workshop. Tony must make some involuntary noise of surprise, or maybe it’s the creak of his chair as he jumps in place slightly, but either way Bucky’s eyes dart over to land unblinkingly on him. Tony honestly can’t tell if Bucky is even recognizing him, there’s no hint of anything in Bucky’s blank eyes, none of the warmth Tony is just now realizing he’s grown so accustomed to, and the worry Tony has been pretty successfully shoving down comes roaring back.

“Hey,” Tony says, forcibly fighting down all the panic in favor of doing his best to project calm confidence (which he is at least very good at) to ask, “how’re you feeling?” It might be a stupid question, all Tony has to do is look at the scans to see that the answer is not great, but hopefully Bucky at least feels better than he had outside and isn’t about to pass out again.

Several long moments go by and Bucky doesn’t answer him though, just continues darting his eyes between Tony and random points around the lab, like he’s trying to figure out where he is. Then his gaze turns down to his shoulder, brow creasing slightly as he begins to shift his arm experimentally, and then goes still again before Tony can do much more than hold up his hands and get out the first syllable of don’t.

“I brought you inside after you passed out,” Tony says a little helplessly, then motions around as he adds “you remember my lab, right? I ran those scans we were talking about and I think I found a few, or more than a few, things that’re probably causing you issues. Whenever you feel up for a chat about it. Or if you wanna nap more, also totally understandable, and there is a more comfortable place if you feel up to moving.” Tony forces himself to shut up, because the more he talks the more confused Bucky looks, so he forces himself to stop nervously babbling and actually wait for Bucky to say something.

But Bucky doesn’t say anything at all, just continues staring at Tony and occasionally darting his eyes around the room like he’s looking for something, although fuck if Tony knows what.

“You with me, frosty?” Tony asks tentatively, not for the first time wondering if he should call someone else to help. Like Sam, or Steve, if Bucky would even want that, if maybe that’s what he’s looking around hoping to find, someone he wants here for this more than Tony. He’s just about to ask if Bucky wants him to call anyone when Bucky finally opens his mouth, and Tony nearly bites his tongue in his hurry to shut himself up.

“I-“ Bucky starts haltingly, a complete lack of any inflection in his voice that makes Tony’s hair want to stand on end even as he finds himself scooting to the very edge of his chair.

He nearly jumps when Bucky abruptly lurches upright, left arm dragging behind him like deadweight as he begins dragging himself to his feet, and before Tony can get out more than a few distressed, protesting noises Bucky is standing mostly upright in the narrow space between the cot and Tony’s chair. Tony’s hands hover uselessly in front of him the entire time, so Tony can go down with him if Bucky starts to collapse again he guesses, because that’s the most realistic scenario, and JARVIS has the suit shuffle forward in case it needs to help too. Bucky is mostly steady on his feet though, even if his motions are strange and stilted, not obviously pained but clearly carefully minimal in a way that makes Tony’s stomach churn.

Tony leans back and swallows nervously as he stares up into Bucky’s blank face, trying to get any kind of a read on him. Bucky’s expression is completely flat though, his eyes dull, and it’s hard to tell if it’s that or the strange silence that sends a chill down Tony’s spine. Or maybe it’s the fact that there’s not even a hint on Bucky’s face or in his voice that he can still feel the pain that had had him collapsing outside, but Tony still has the scans right in front of him, he knows that can’t be the case.

“I… require service,” Bucky finally finishes, spitting the words out like they hurt more than the arm itself and once again Tony is trying really hard not to take offense at that. At least this time it’s abundantly obvious that Bucky’s reluctance is over having anyone work on the arm, not specifically Tony. Tony can’t even be happy that Bucky is finally asking for his help (not that he should be) when it’s so obvious that he doesn’t actually want help, from anyone, wouldn’t be asking if he had literally any other choice.

Either way, Tony’s issues are so far from what’s important here, so he forces himself to focus and does his best to sound like he knows what he’s doing as he says “Okay. I- I can- if you want, I mean, or- what are you doing?” Tony is aware he completely lost his calm tone, that the last question came out a little shrill and panicked, but he’s much more concerned with the way Bucky appears to be slowly and carefully lowering himself to his knees, the unsteadiness of the motions and the cold sweat beading on his forehead the only signs that it has to hurt. “You don’t- what- stop,” Tony chokes out and before he can think better of it he reaches out to place one hand on Bucky’s right arm.

Bucky goes abruptly, deathly still under his touch, not quite flinching back from the contact but going so completely tense that it’s obvious he wants to, and it doesn’t even look like he’s breathing as his eyes flick up to Tony’s face again. If they weren’t standing so close, if Tony hadn’t spent one night a week for the past month more or less studying the man it would be easy to miss the flurry of emotion that passes quickly beneath the blank mask of Bucky’s expression. There’s definitely some confusion and alarm in the mix, the pain that he’s trying so hard to hide, but what strikes Tony more than anything is the flash of fear in Bucky’s eyes before they go blank again and he simply stares at Tony silently like he’s waiting for instruction.

Or waiting for an order.

Tony's thoughts all come to a screeching halt at that realization, and he could swear his heart stops dead in his chest. It’s definitely stupid, but somehow the possibility that this might happen hadn’t occurred to him at all, not since that first time he walked into that office to meet Centennial Man and for a split second thought someone had sent the Winter Soldier after him. So much for priding himself on at least his overthinking results in at least being prepared for anything, he has no plan to deal with this.

The smart move would probably be to just restrain him right off the bat, before anything even has a chance to go wrong, and call someone like Steve, who no doubt has a plan and probably a speech for this exact situation. But that just doesn’t sit right with Tony, not when Bucky (or the Winter Soldier, or whoever) hasn’t done anything but grudgingly admit to needing ‘service’ and in general looking very confused, so Tony is just going to have to wing it. Awesome.

“Okay, you- okay,” Tony says even though it’s not, he is not qualified for this. He has no idea how to handle the Winter Soldier suddenly making an appearance, the only thing Tony does have in the painful knowledge that one wrong move could undoubtedly do more damage than he could even imagine, could set Bucky back who-knows-how-far in the recovery he’s working so hard on. Not to mention that all it would take is one wrong move on Tony’s part to get himself killed, which would also probably be pretty bad for Bucky’s recovery.

For now though Bucky is just staring blankly at him, waiting, and Tony has to do something.

“First things first, please do not get on the floor,” Tony says, and he’s going to consider it a win that his voice only shakes a little, “you don’t have to- I’m just saying, literally everything will be easier if you just lay back down on the cot. Or sit, sitting works too, just ideally somewhere you won’t smash your head into the concrete floor if you pass out on me again.”

Bucky just continues staring at him for several long seconds and at least he’s not trying to get down on his knees anymore, but he’s also not moving to get back on the cot either and god Tony hopes he’s not waiting for Tony to make that an order, or a command, because he really doesn’t think he can.

Even the thought has Tony’s stomach churning, bile threatening to rise in his throat, and as Bucky continues to just stare at him, unblinking, Tony smiles shakily and a little helplessly croaks out “Please.”

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together slightly as another flurry of emotion passes through his eyes, too quick for Tony to possibly decipher, and then he slowly shifts to sit down on the cot again. He still looks about as far as possible from comfortable, perched on the very edge of the cot and wound tight with tension, eyes still darting around occasionally like he’s looking for god-knows-what, and it’s probably about the best Tony can hope for at the moment. Despite the general threat that someone Bucky’s size and stature can pose, even not counting the decades of training Tony doesn’t even want to imagine, everything about his posture and actions so far have made him seem more ‘lost and worried’ than ‘dangerous and unstable’, and Tony can’t even be relieved about it, not when he hurts to look at and Tony can’t shake the feeling that a murderous rampage would somehow be easier to deal with. At least it would be more familiar.

“So you weren’t wrong about needing service,” Tony says, because Bucky is still just staring at him and when all else fails Tony can always talk, “your arm is, and no offense here Frosty, kind of a mess and it’s going to need a lot of work. Probably at least most of a day’s worth to take care of all the big issues and… well, I don’t really know if I should…”

“Service is required to continue functioning,” Bucky insists when Tony trails off helplessly, and hey at least he doesn’t object to Tony working on his arm when he’s not in his right mind to object to anything. Fantastic.

“I’m not arguing with you there,” Tony says quickly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “frankly I don’t know how you’ve been walking around using that arm for the past however long it’s been like this, but I don’t feel like we should do anything while you’re all-“ before he can think better of making sudden motions Tony is waving his hands vaguely to encompass all of Bucky, but luckily all Bucky does is blink slowly at him as Tony finishes with “pale and shakey.”

‘And not yourself’ Tony doesn’t add, because so far the Winter Soldier has been pretty calm and docile, all things considered, and there’s no reason to go poking the bear by bringing up… anything, really. Except Tony’s refusal to do serious arm maintenance while he’s about to pass out again seems to have just made Bucky more confused and wary, his eyes darting around the small workshop a little more often, and that is just, so depressing. If anything Bucky looks like he expects to be strapped down and worked on until he blacks out again, which just makes Tony all the more determined that he’s not going to do that. He just needs to figure out how to get Bucky on board with that without the Winter Soldier deciding this is too weird and nice, and that he should just bail or something equally bad. He’s already looking twitchy, casting looks over at the armor a little more often, and when he opens his mouth to most likely point out the need for service again Tony cuts him off.

“How about this,” Tony says, motioning to the hologram in the hopes of pulling Bucky’s attention away from casting suspicious looks at the gauntlets, “first things first, can we- do you know if there’s a way to easily disable this bad boy? At least then it won’t be driving you crazy while we figure out what we want to do next, and- Jesus, do you want painkillers? I know I still have St- some around here that should actually work for you.”

He barely manages to catch himself in time to avoid mentioning Steve, because he has zero idea how that would go over right now and it’s not generally a topic they get into anyways.

Another long couple seconds go by where Bucky just stares at him, and Tony is just doing his best not to let himself think about anything right now. He's not thinking about the flat, cold blue of Bucky's stare, the fact that he's never seen Bucky this silent and still, his face so completely, carefully blank. Right now the only thing that matters is that Bucky is in pain, so much pain that he's apparently reverted to Winter Soldier mode just to deal with it, and Tony has to figure out how much he can help without crossing about a dozen lines.

“That is not required,” Bucky finally says, his voice a little less flat than it has been, a little less sure, and while it’s not a no it’s also certainly not a yes.

Tony isn’t sure if Bucky considers the Winter Soldier a valid medical proxy, so he just nods in acknowledgement and says, “I’ll ask again later. For now, that arm? Any idea if there’s maybe just an ‘off’ switch of some kind?” Bucky hesitates for a second, eyes flicking from Tony to the hologram and back again, then raises his right hand to point at a spot near the hologram’s shoulder. “Hold on,” Tony says when it looks like Bucky is going to lean forward to get closer, his eyebrows pulling together in pain, “I can- let me make this a little easier.”

With a wave of his hand the glowing projection of the arm moves from above the desk to in front of Bucky, and despite JARVIS making sure to move it slowly instead of just flickering to a new spot like he usually would, Bucky still flinches away from it just a little. Before Tony can apoligize and begin berating himself for not thinking to warn him Bucky shifts his hand and motions to a spot just a couple rows of plates below the shoulder joint.

“Under here,” Bucky says and then simply blinks when the holograms shifts to show beneath the indicated plates. His eyes narrow as he stares at the inside of the arm, and Tony almost wants to call it confusion, but it could just as easily be some horrible memory coming back and Tony really wishes he had any idea of the right thing to do here. Maybe he should speak up, pull Bucky from whatever thoughts he's lost in, or maybe Bucky is just trying to remember the answer to the question he asked, and Tony should have some goddamn patience for once in his life. He ends up just waiting uselessly, biting his tongue, and eventually Bucky says, "This pin. Should disable everything."

There's a hesitant edge to his voice, like he's not quite sure, but Tony nods encouragingly because it’s certainly better than him just wildly guessing. And when Tony pulls the hologram apart to see the layers he was able to scan it does look like pulling that one pin will break quite a few circuits and very well could disable the entire arm. When Tony glances up to check on him he finds that Bucky's eyes have gone just a little wider as he stares at the hologram, making the blue of them a little brighter, and Tony firmly tells himself that it is not cute.

That is so far from a helpful thought right now.

"Alright," Tony says, dragging his eyes away to look over his desk and he's mostly talking to himself as he mutters "what do we need, what do we need?"

He starts shifting through the tools littering his desk in barely-organized chaos, grabbing and discarding things and occasionally glancing up at Bucky or the hologram. Bucky just continues waiting patiently while Tony collects tiny screwdrivers and tweezers and anything else he thinks he could possibly need. He can see tension trying to pull Bucky’s shoulders impossibly tighter with every new tool he grabs, so Tony does his best to limit himself, not go completely overboard with his usual over preparedness.

Once he’s finished collecting tools Tony carefully lines them up at the edge of the desk closest to the cot where they should be easy to reach. It’s also where Bucky should be able to keep an eye on everything he’s doing and hopefully be a little less tense about it all.

“Alright,” Tony says, mostly to pull Bucky’s attention back to him before he starts moving, “so I think this’ll be easiest if I just sit next to you there, so, you know... don’t freak out or anything.” He’s mostly talking to himself with that last bit, but he feels like it’s probably good advice for both of them and with that he pushes himself to his feet, moving to sit on the edge of the cot before something occurs to him. “Oh wait,” he says, freezing and spinning slightly in place, “I should grab- hold on.”

Tony heads for the large first aid kid instead, casually stepping over one of Bucky’s legs in the process before he can think better of it. Bucky just keeps watching him with that eerily blank expression though, and Tony can’t shake the feeling that he’s fucking this all up somehow as he digs out a sling and returns to stand in the minimal space between the cot and desk.

"So I figure we'll just go ahead and sling your arm up now," he says, awkwardly holding the sling out between them in case Bucky wants to inspect it or anything, “that way it’s not tugging on your joints and spine and everything when it goes deadweight.”

Bucky stares at the sling, then up at Tony again, and finally gives a small half-shrug with his right shoulder. Judging by the way it kind of looks like Bucky’s eyebrows are starting to pull together in confusion that’s probably the best Tony is going to get, so he nods again.

“Okay then, scoot over a little big guy,” Tony says and at least forcing a confident smile onto his face is familiar, it’s about the only familiar thing about this situation as Bucky slowly shifts over on the cot to give Tony room to sit down beside him. “I’ll try to make this as easy as possible,” Tony promises, but he still catches Bucky fighting down a couple winces as Tony carefully positions the sling around Bucky’s forearm. “Alright, now if you’ll lift your arm,” he instructs and he’s definitely just imagining that he can hear gears grinding inside the arm as it moves, but he can hear the way Bucky’s breath catches wetly in his chest as Tony fastens the sling over Bucky’s opposite shoulder, and Tony winces himself as he quietly says “sorry, sorry, done now.”

It’s about then that it occurs to Tony again that maybe careful apologies are the exact wrong path to take here, that for all he knows all he’s doing is showing weakness and any second now the Winter Soldier is going to snap his neck and make a break for it. Even with that thought in mind, Tony knows that he’s not going to do a damn thing differently. He’s not going to treat Bucky coldly and carelessly just because that’s what the Winter Soldier expects, he can’t. And if that ends up getting him killed, well, it still won’t be the most embarrassing thing on Tony’s list of possible-deaths.

He’d much rather treat Bucky with common fucking decency and take his chances, he thinks Bucky deserves that much at the very least. So Tony makes sure to keep his movements slow and intentional and easy to follow as he rolls up Bucky’s sleeve to make sure it won’t get in the way, selects a couple tools, and then leans in to get a good look at the plates of Bucky’s arm. It’s not that he’s never looked at it before, of course he has, he isn’t immune to a beautiful piece of engineering, but Tony has never let himself even begin to think about working on the arm because Bucky hadn’t wanted that. Now he gets to figure it out in the moment, while under the Winter Soldier’s watchful eye, and it’s definitely not ideal, but Tony has also definitely worked with worse.

He runs his fingers over the metal plates just below Bucky’s shoulder, biting down another apology when Bucky flinches slightly, and then glances up at the hologram one last time to make sure he’s in the right spot. It doesn’t take him long to figure out how to pop the plates out of place and get a look at the wires and circuitry underneath. It takes everything Tony has not to let his face twist in disgust at his first look at the inside of the arm, at the rust and grime and who-knows-what that’s been building up for probably years, because that’s not what he’s focusing on right now. And he’s definitely not thinking about how he’d go about cleaning that, what he would do first, because Tony is not getting ahead of himself. As far as he knows Bucky doesn’t want his help more than absolutely necessary and he can’t exactly take the Winter Soldier’s word for it, not when he has zero idea how aware Bucky actually is, in there.

At least it doesn't take long to locate the pin that should disconnect the arm, but he does have to clean up the area around it a little before he can even figure out how to go about pulling it. He makes sure to keep up a running commentary of what he’s doing the entire time, making sure Bucky is aware of everything he’s going to do before and as he does it, and at least Bucky doesn’t get noticeably more tense, even when Tony can’t resist making a couple ‘ick’ faces as he carefully scrapes what may be once been machine grease but is now just solidified gunk away from the pin.

“Okay,” Tony says once that’s finally done, sitting upright from where he’s been hunched in over Bucky’s shoulder and rolling his head back and forth for a moment, “so that’s done, and I didn’t even know thermal paste turns that color, but we should be able to disable this thing now.”

Bucky has gone pale again, sweat beading along his forehead and his right hand shaking where it’s clenched into a fist on his thigh, and Tony isn’t sure if it’s just the same pain from earlier creeping back up or if even his most gentle attempts are causing pain, but either way he’s ready to be done so it can hurt a little less. Apparently Bucky agrees, because he just clenches his jaw and nods stoically and so much for Tony’s attempts to put him at ease, Bucky looks like he’s about to vibrate right out of his skin.

“Breathe,” Tony advises him, because he’s pretty sure Bucky isn’t, and then manages a small, encouraging smile when Bucky’s eyes snap up from his own lap. Bucky’s blank expression doesn’t waver, but he does drag in a slow breath and then let it out before nodding again. “So disconnecting this shouldn’t hurt,” Tony says as he grabs a tool with a small hook on it, “and you shouldn’t be able to feel the arm at all after I pull this, but you have to tell me if it still hurts or anything and we can figure it out, okay?”

Bucky’s eyebrows do that slight-twitch thing that Tony is starting to think of as his ‘confused puppy’ look, his jaw clenching and unclenching for a second like he’s so close to saying something, but then just dips his chin in acknowledgement.

Tony has to resist the urge to say ‘okay’ again, because he’s pretty sure he’s already said it too many times already, but the silence is driving him crazy. He’s no stranger to filling silences or talking before someone else can, he’s practically turned it into an art form after all, but he’s just now realizing that he’s never had to do it before, not with Bucky, not to this level. Even at his most quiet Bucky always has some reaction to Tony’s rambling, some comment or question here or there, a quiet huff of laughter, something, but as the Winter Soldier he just stares. And Tony can’t help feeling like this just might be one of those situations Rhodey is always trying to warn him about, where his habit of talking his way through everything might just get him into more trouble than it’s worth.

While Tony’s sense of self-preservation is not what some would call good, his chatter seems to be confusing Bucky more than anything and maybe he should knock it off, at least a little. So Tony keeps his mouth shut and forces himself to draw in a deep breath, because he could use the steadying too, and then leans in over Bucky’s shoulder again. The pin clearly isn’t meant to be easily pulled, however easy it is to reach, and by the time Tony gets his tool hooked into the tiny groove Bucky is back to taking short, shallow breaths and digging the fingers of his right hand into his knee.

“Here we go,” Tony says in warning, then pulls on the pin as firmly but also as gently as he can. There’s a heartstopping second where it doesn’t move, not even a wiggle, and god this is going to take even longer--

And then all at once the pin slides free from it’s locked position with a soft click, and Bucky lets out a hard sigh as what looks like at least half the tension holding him up abruptly vanishes. It leaves him swaying slightly in place, like a puppet with its strings cut, and Tony has no idea if he should take that as a good sign or not.

“How you feeling there snowflake?” Tony asks, reaching out to steady Bucky before he thinks better of it and leaves his hand hovering awkwardly over Bucky’s back.

Bucky’s attention shifts back up to him slowly, and his eyes don’t look completely focused, but he tips his chin down again and Tony is going to take that to mean better, at least. Then he starts to tilt, listing toward the left like the weight of the dead arm is dragging him down and he just can’t fight it anymore, and it has him leaning heavily into Tony.

“Woah, easy big guy,” Tony sputters, finally letting his hand rest on Bucky’s back to try and steady him as he hurries to remove the tool from within Bucky’s shoulder. The last thing he wants is to break anything any worse after all, and after he manages to get the tool safely out of the way Tony drops it carelessly to the ground to put that hand on Bucky’s chest as he continues tilting. “Stay with me frosty,” Tony says even though he gets the feeling it’s pointless, Bucky’s face is still pale and his eyelids have started to flutter again, “let me get you closed up and then upstairs and you can nap all you--”

Tony cuts off when Bucky abruptly loses his fight with consciousness and slumps heavily against him, knocking the air out of Tony’s lungs with a soft ‘oof’. It probably shouldn’t be surprising just how heavy Bucky is, he is after all built completely of solid muscle with a metal arm to boot, and yet Tony flounders for a second as it hits him all over again just how careful Bucky is with him, apparently making sure to never just drop his full weight on Tony even when pinning him down.

“J, little help here,” Tony says when it becomes obvious that while he is managing to keep them both from tumbling off the cot, that’s about all he’s going to be able to do. JARVIS quickly navigates the armor over and together they get Bucky mostly upright again without disturbing him, and Tony hurries to grab for the metal plates he’d removed. “Now just hold him there while I get these back in place, and then we’ll... figure out what to do next.”

Piecing Bucky’s arm back together doesn’t take long, even with the way Tony can’t stop glancing up every couple seconds to check if Bucky is waking up, if it looks like he’s in pain, anything, and then Tony is right back to not knowing what to do now. He could just have JARVIS help him lay Bucky down on the cot and let him rest like that, but Tony knows for a fact emergency cots aren’t nearly as comfortable as the bed upstairs and he’s not sure which option is better. Sure, Bucky should be more familiar with the bedroom than the lab, but what if the Winter Soldier wakes up in a different place and panics, what if Bucky wakes up without knowing how he got there and panics? Tony goes back and forth so many times that he nearly gives himself a headache, but it’s probably only a couple seconds later that he makes his decision.

“Lets get him upstairs,” he says, making sure JARVIS has a steady hold on Bucky before pushing himself to his feet, because he figures if odds are good Bucky is going to wake up panicking one way or the other it might as well be after getting some decent rest in an actual bed. He considers hopping in the armor himself for this, but that would require JARVIS letting go for for the length of time it takes Tony to suit up, and from here Tony can make sure Bucky’s head doesn’t go flopping around and that his arm stays in the sling as JARVIS carefully lifts him off the cot.

It does leave Tony once again fluttering around uselessly as the armor carries Bucky upstairs, no doubt driving JARVIS crazy with his constant reminders to be careful and move slowly. It feels like Tony doesn’t actually let out the breath he’s been holding until Bucky has been lowered into bed without waking him up, and even then it’s not until he’s spent a couple minutes making sure that the pillow is properly settled under Bucky’s head and that the sling hasn’t shifted that Tony finally feels like he can start to relax.

“Alright, I think I’ve got it from here,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted, and he’s about to sink into the armchair when something occurs to him. “Wait here with him for one second,” Tony says before turning and hurrying out of the room, because JARVIS could keep an eye on Bucky and alert him if anything happens just as easily not in the suit, but leaving Bucky any level of alone right now just feels wrong.

Tony nearly trips down the stairs in his rush to get to the lab so he can get back the bedroom, and he has to force himself to stop and take a deep breath as his heart continues thundering against his ribs, so hard that Tony is honestly shocked he can’t feel it pressing against the casing of the reactor. He spends the entirety of the short walk back to the workshop to grab a couple things then jogging up the stairs waiting for something to go horribly wrong, but when he makes it back to the bedroom JARVIS is standing guard over a peacefully sleeping Bucky. Well, relatively peacefully, he still looks tense even in his sleep and his eyebrows are pinched together, but at least he doesn’t look as bad as he had when he collapsed out front.

“Now I’ve actually got it from here, J, thanks. Leave the suit here though, who knows if we’ll need it again.”

JARVIS walks the armor to stand like a sentry in the corner and then the eyes go dim and Tony drops himself into the armchair by the window. He almost hadn’t included one when he was redoing the bedroom, playing with the idea of decorating it as differently as possible from the way Pepper had, but now he’s very glad he decided just changing all the colors was enough. And he’s very glad he got the most comfortable chair he could possibly find because hopefully he’s going to be here for a while, Bucky could certainly use the sleep and it’s not like Tony has any other plans for the evening.

Not that collapsing and emergency shoulder adjustments were exactly part of the plan, but Tony is nothing if not adaptable and happy to help. He just wishes he didn’t feel so useless, even more so than he normally does when it comes to Bucky.

If Bucky doesn’t want him for his money or his connections or just someone to kick around once a week then the least Tony can do is put his big stupid brain to work, but somehow Tony is even less sure what to do in this new situation. He doesn’t know how to help or what to do, or what not to do, and Tony can’t shake the feeling that he’s fucking this all up.

God, how much of this is Bucky even going to remember when he wakes up, past the haze of pain and… Winter Soldier-ness? Maybe he shouldn’t have done anything more than brought Bucky inside, but even the thought has Tony’s chest clenching because he’d been in so much pain, there’s no way Tony could have just left him like that without giving into panic and calling someone. Hopefully Bucky will prefer waking up confused with a dead arm to someone else finding out about this before Bucky can decide to tell them.

No matter how much he thinks about it Tony also can’t figure out why Bucky didn’t just call it off today, if he feels so terrible. Maybe Tony said something during that phone call on Monday that made Bucky feel like he couldn’t, Tony was mostly just rambling and not fully listening to himself. He does know that he definitely should have asked more questions after that, should have asked at least once this week if Bucky was up for this, if he was okay, but Tony was too goddamn selfish. He hadn’t even thought about it, because apparently he just didn’t want to give up getting to see Bucky after his own week, like going out to visit the compound was so hard for him.

Eventually Tony has to pull himself from his spiral of doubts, because that is not a productive use of his time. Instead he makes himself a little more comfortable and then grabs his laptop from the small end table. It’s a little awkward with how Tony has to curl sideways in the chair, but he gets his laptop opened up and makes sure he can see Bucky over the rim of it before settling in.

The least he can do is have something helpful to say when Bucky wakes up, so Tony gets to work writing up the most thorough plan he possibly can about all the work that needs done on Bucky’s arm, the cleaning and the places that need new wires and everything he can think of. He makes sure he’s as thorough as possible so whoever ends up working on Bucky’s arm has as much information as possible, so hopefully they’ll be able to help. And if Tony spends all of that time making mental notes on how he would do it, well it’s not like he has to bring it up unless Bucky asks.

Several painfully slow hours go by like that, Tony trying to type as quietly as possible and hyper aware of every time Bucky so much as twitches. It’s pretty obvious when he starts to wake up, the sharp intake of breath as he starts to come back to awareness that tells Tony that he is still in pain and Tony isn’t going to let him deny it.

That’s assuming he wakes up as Bucky, of course, and Tony isn’t sure if the Winter Soldier is going to accept any of his excuses for why ‘service’ has to be delayed, what the Winter Soldier will do if he doesn’t. He has a couple suits here and JARVIS has instructions to help Tony try to keep him contained to the cabin, but Tony has no idea how effective they’ll be when he also has instructions to do so as gently as possible.

By the time Bucky’s eyes finally flutter open Tony is holding his breath and caught somewhere between climbing out of the chair and curling up to hide behind the screen of his laptop, and he ends up doing nothing as he watches Bucky’s eyes move around the room and at least it doesn’t look like he’s about to panic. When Bucky’s gaze finally lands on him Tony manages to work up a weak smile, setting his laptop aside and beginning to unwind from the tangle of limbs he’s worked himself into in the chair.

“Hey,” he says, climbing slowly to his feet and ignoring the complaints from his muscles and joints from being curled in one position for so long. He hesitates for a second, choosing his words carefully, and then asks “Are you, uh… you? I mean, you know, are you back with me?”

“Not sure where else I’d be,” Bucky says with a tiny, strained grin, blinking slowly like maybe he’s not completely awake yet. He opens his mouth again but all that comes out is a rough, dry cough.

Tony grabs for the glass of water and bottle of pills he’s had waiting on the end table and brings them both to Bucky, eager for something to focus on that’s not how to answer that question for a second.

“Here- wait let me help you sit up,” Tony says, wincing when Bucky’s attention inevitably shifts down to his left shoulder, confusion obvious on his face and his chest muscles shifting like he’s trying to move. So apparently Bucky does not remember anything that happened while he was in Winter Soldier mode, and Tony isn’t sure if he will, if it might be better to just wait rather than trying to explain.

“What happened?” Bucky asks as soon as Tony gets him propped up on some pillows, looking much more awake now and like he might be considering freaking out. At least he gratefully drinks from the glass when Tony holds it out to him, and so much for trying to wait it out.

“Well, you climbed out of the car and collapsed and just about gave me a heart attack,” Tony says with another even weaker grin, hoping to take any sting out of the words because sure it’s true, but it’s not like that’s Bucky’s fault. “So I brought you inside, and you woke up but uh, I guess you were… maybe in Winter Soldier mode. Or something.”

He really should have thought more about how he was going to tell this story, maybe then he wouldn’t find it all just spilling out of him in one nervous ramble, wouldn’t see the way Bucky’s eyes start to go wide before he has to drop his own gaze.

“And I’ll be honest, okay, it took me a second to realize what was happening, but you- he- you were pretty chill honestly. Just asked for help with the arm but I figured I should talk to, you know, you you first, since last time you said—“ Tony at least manages to cut that sentence off, because this isn’t about him, and instead says “but I didn’t want to risk you running off if I flat out refused, uh, no offense, and it was still clearly bothering you, so I um- had you walk me through disabling it before you passed out again.” By the end Tony’s pretty sure his words are threatening to run tighter, and he can’t even bring himself to move his gaze any higher than the trap of the sling over Bucky’s shoulder, clenching his fists by his sides as his stomach churns with guilt again, and he has to swallow thickly before he can choke out “I’m sorry, I should have waited for you to wake up, actually wake up I guess, but I didn’t know what to do and- and you were hurting.”

The thick silence that settles over the room after that is suffocating, broken only by Tony’s shaky breathing and it stretches on and on until Tony is about ready to come out of his skin. Finally he forces himself to drag his gaze up to meet Bucky’s again trying to convince himself that he’s totally prepared for the anger and betrayal he’s sure to find, the clenched jaw and cold stare.

But Bucky’s mouth is hanging open slightly, his eyes wide and his face so pale that Tony is a little afraid he’s going to pass out all over again.

“Bucky?” he asks hesitantly when Bucky just continues to stare at him and anger would have been so much better than this. Apparently Bucky is so upset that he’s just frozen, and dammit Tony knew he should have just called someone, shouldn’t have done anything more than bring him inside, and Tony can’t help flinching slightly when Bucky finally sucks in a sharp breath.

“What?” Bucky demands, his voice cracking harshly and his eyes darting around the room again, lingering a little longer on the armor still standing in the corner. “I- what?”

“You’re okay,” Tony tries to assure him, leaning forward slowly to gingerly pluck the empty glass from Bucky’s hand when it looks like he’s completely forgotten about it. Bucky’s gaze snaps back to him again and habit is the only thing that keeps Tony’s half-smile steady as he hurries to add “everything’s okay, and I can- just power it back on no problem, if you want, or call someone, if--”

“Tony,” Bucky says firmly, cutting him off and Tony jerks his attention up from setting the glass on the nightstand. Bucky has a white knuckled grip on the blankets with his right hand, and he’s not really looking any less close to panic as he demands “Are you okay?”

“Yes..?” Tony says slowly and he can’t resist the urge to look down at himself and figure out where Bucky would be getting the idea that he’s not, if he has grease smeared across his shirt of said something during his nervous rant. Other than being a little wrinkled his clothes look fine though, and he doesn’t think he said anything--

Bucky lets out a pained groan, and when Tony drags his attention up again he appears to be trying to push himself up out of bed even as he goes impossibly paler and a cold sweat breaks out across his forehead.

“Hey, hey,” Tony says, reaching out to gently but firmly push him back against the pillows. Even if he’s angry or panicked or whatever, Bucky really shouldn’t be going anywhere until he at least knows where he’s going and how he’ss getting there. “I’m fine,” Tony says again, making sure to meet Bucky wild stare as he says it so maybe it’ll sink in, “seriously, whatever it is you’re imagining that’s putting that look on your face, I’m going to need you to take it down about ten notches. Everything is fine, you’re fine, I’m clearly fine, I’ll even do a little twirl for you if it’ll make you feel better and you promise not to jump up and pull something.”

For a second it looks like Bucky is still considering bolting from the room, his gaze landing on the door and then the suit before returning to Tony, but finally he settles back against the headboard. The color isn’t quite returning to his face yet, and it’s clear he’s forcing his breathing to even out, but the expectant eyebrow he raises at Tony is an encouraging sign. It takes Tony another second to figure out what Bucky is waiting for, but then he huffs out a soft laugh as he holds out his arms and spins slowly in place, showing that he is in fact whole and unharmed.

When Tony finishes his slow twirl Bucky does look ever so slightly more at ease, finally relaxing back into the pillows, but his jaw is still clenched tight as he asks “what happened?”

Tony sucks in a deep breath and firmly tells himself that he’s going to tell the story clearly this time, no matter how hard his heart is racing in his chest, because Bucky really doesn’t need to be confused on top of everything else. For a split second he considers taking a seat at the edge of the bed for this, then changes his mind and instead remains standing awkwardly near Bucky’s hip as he forces himself to slowly recount everything that happened between Bucky passing out by the car and waking up in bed, sparing no detail because who knows what Bucky will consider important right now.

He ends up going over it three times in total, but with every retelling Bucky relaxes a little more as it becomes clear that Tony isn’t hiding any murder attempts or whatever it is going on in Bucky’s head right now. Bucky even stops shooting the occasional look at the door, and Tony finally allows himself to relax.

“And now here we are,” Tony says, grinning and winking to take any heat out of the words as he concludes, “with me telling you this story. In excruciating detail. Again.”

Bucky seems to be too lost in thought to appreciate Tony’s attempts at humor right now though, his gaze on where his hand rests in his lap. Apparently he’s run out of questions about what exactly did he say, and is Tony sure he didn’t make any moves for anything that could even vaguely resemble a weapon, and Tony gnaws on his lip as he considers where the hell they go from here.

“Now that you are awake,” he starts slowly, trying not to flinch when Bucky’s attention shifts up to him and the complicated, lost expression on his face is like a punch to the gut. “Is- is there anyone you want me to call?” He asks, determined to power through and shove down the swell of helplessness in his own chest, but he just doesn’t know what to do and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s already messed this all up, ruined any chance he had of being trusted to help. “Oh! I do have a list for you,” Tony hurries to add as soon as the thought occurs to him, glancing back and waving towards where he left his laptop on the end table, desperate for something helpful to add, “all the information I was able to get from the scans and I- um, listed out all the work that needs done if you want- I mean, if there’s someone you trust to--”

“Tony,” Bucky cuts him off, sounding a little strangled, and when Tony sheepishly looks back at him he’s surprised to find that Bucky looks caught somewhere between horror and laughter. And definitely not the good kind. “I don’t trust myself,” Bucky says, like that should be obvious, and for a second Tony can only blink at him.

“Oh,” he says again, because that does make sense, if Bucky has a chance of going Winter Soldier mode when blacked out or in extreme pain, and Tony really shouldn’t be relieved right now, just because it’s not about him. This isn’t about him, none of it is, and that’s the whole point, so Tony chooses his words carefully before saying “I think it went okay.”

The look that Bucky fixes him with is deeply unimpressed, but it’s also a very familiar reaction to Tony trying to downplay things and it’s almost enough to bring a tiny smile to his face. Before Tony can try to defend his point though Bucky beats him to it, his voice hoarse and cracking again. “But what if it didn’t?” He demands, looking Tony over again like he’s extra-double-checking that he’s not injured, “what if I- all it takes is a second of JARVIS not being fast enough and I could have...”

Bucky trails off, like he can’t even get the words out, and the little amount of color he’d regained in his face drains away. Tony shuffles a little closer, until his knees bump against the tall bed frame and he has to resist the urge to just climb up into the bed with Bucky. He’s still in pain, and this isn’t about Tony. Instead he limits himself to reaching out to place a hopefully comforting hand on Bucky’s thigh, far enough away from his shoulder that it shouldn’t hurt.

“As we’ve already determined, I’m fine,” Tony reminds him, “so there’s no point worrying what might have happened.” He gently drags his thumb along the muscle of Bucky’s thigh through the blanket, and drags in a deep breath before deciding to just dive in. “More importantly... I swear I’m not trying to push you, tell me to fuck off and I will, but... Something has to happen with your arm, it’s not going to stop hurting until you get it cleaned out and rewired at least. I get that- okay I can’t possibly get it but I understand that you don’t want to risk losing control, but it’s tearing you apart you have to-” Tony bites his lip to cut himself off when he starts getting a little too emotional, but god he can’t get the image of Bucky collapsing out of his head and he has to take another steadying breath before he can continue. “You should really consider letting someone- letting me help you, fuck, please let me help you. We can do whatever it takes to make you more comfortable, get more suits on guard or just knock you out entirely, there has to be something--”

So much for his attempts to be less emotional, and Tony has to pull his hand back to tuck both of them behind his back so hopefully Bucky won’t notice the way they shake as he tries to get himself under control. At this point he’s likely to just chase Bucky off, trying to force his help on someone else who doesn’t want it, pushing too hard like he always does. If that’s what it takes for Bucky to get help from anyone then so be it, he deserves to not be in agony.

“I want to help,” Tony says softly and now his gaze is the one firmly fixed on Bucky’s hand, anything to avoid seeing whatever anger or offense may be on Bucky’s face, “if you want me to. Anything I can do.”

“I...” Bucky chokes out and then goes silent for so long that Tony has to look up at him again. He doesn’t look offended at least, which was Tony’s biggest concern, but Tony also isn’t sure what to call the look Bucky is giving him, somewhere between shocked and hopeful and horrified. “I can’t,” Bucky finally finishes but even he doesn’t sound convinced, and for a split second Tony dares to hope that he can at least get him to consider it.

But then Bucky starts to slowly push himself upright, like he’s going to leave, and Tony’s heart freezes in his chest. He can’t shake the feeling that this is his last chance slipping away, if Bucky leaves now the conversation will be over and Tony might not ever know if Bucky actually follows through. Something curls up cold and hard in Tony’s gut at that thought, the idea that he’ll spend every week from now on wondering if Bucky is okay. He’ll be looking for any sign that Bucky is trying to continue just pushing through the pain, forcing himself to go through the motions.

It’s going to be all Tony can think about every week, every scene, he’s never going to be able to relax and fuck this isn’t going to work. He’s frozen in place as he watches Bucky wince his way through getting fully upright, torn between stepping closer to try to stop him and just getting out of his way. Pushing isn’t going to get Tony anywhere, it never does, so he just gnaws on his lip and forces himself to shuffle a couple steps back when it looks like Bucky is about to swing his legs out of bed.

As soon as he even starts to turn though Bucky freezes with a pained hiss that he can’t completely bite down, and Tony lurches forward again before he can stop himself. Before Tony actually has to decide if he’s going to try and stop him or not Bucky is collapsing back against the pillows on his own, letting out a heavy sigh that seems to take all the fight out of him along with the rush of air. It leaves Bucky looking deflated, defeated, like he’s tired down to his core and Tony can’t stop himself.

“Please,” he says again and now his voice is the one coming out hoarse and choked, “let me help you.”

Bucky’s eyes move over his face, like he’s searching for a sign that Tony is anything less than sure about this, so Tony clenches his hands tighter behind his back so hopefully his nerves won’t show and give away how much he’s pretty sure is riding on this. That’s not any of Bucky’s concern right now, the only thing either of them should be worried about is Bucky’s well-being and fuck more than anything Tony just wants Bucky to be able to live his life after all the shit he’s been through.

Finally Bucky licks his lips and his gaze shifts once more around the room, landing ever so briefly on the door, before returning to Tony as he asks “Can you... show me the plan you have?”

“You want to see the security precautions,” Tony says knowingly, a weak smile on his face and already backing towards the chair.

The answering smile that grows on Bucky’s face is even smaller and wavering dangerously, but it’s something. “I want to see the security precautions,” he confirms easily, relaxing back against the headboard a tiny bit more.

Tony wastes no time spinning on his heel and grabbing up his laptop again, because of course he has security precautions, it wasn’t exactly his main concern but he is nothing if not overly prepared. He props the laptop open on one arm as he steps up to the bed again, pulling up the overview he made and then spins it to face Bucky. He wants to start with a short run down of what needs done and how long he thinks it’ll take, but he also knows that’s not what Bucky wants to hear.

“So for starters, the workshop has a lockdown that I think would give even you trouble,” Tony starts, scrolling a bit to actually get to that part of his little mini-presentation and almost fumbling his laptop before he manages to steady it, “and of course JARVIS can take control of as many suits as you feel necessary to stand sentry. Plus there’s always sedatives, if you really want to go all out.”

When he looks up again Bucky is giving him a small, baffled smile but at least it looks like he’s starting to get color back in his face. Bucky lifts his hand from his lap and visibly hesitates before patting the empty side of the bed in clear invitation. Tony has to firmly remind himself not to just throw himself onto the bed and crawl over Bucky, that would be a bad idea. Instead he walks around the bed and then climbs up onto it carefully, making sure to jostle Bucky as little as possible in the process. He settles in just shy of pressing their shoulders together and gets his laptop situated between them before looking up at Bucky again.

Bucky’s hand is resting on his thigh again, fingers twitching against the blanket and his attention on the screen. “What about restraints?” he asks, fingers tapping a little faster.

“Ohh, kinky,” Tony says with a wiggle of his eyebrows and when Bucky fixes him with the expected unimpressed look there’s just a hint of a smile lurking behind the expression. “I think we can probably work something out,” he says thoughtfully as he turns his attention to the screen, “if you really think it’s necessary on top of everything else.”

“I do,” Bucky says, so firmly that Tony wouldn’t dream of arguing. He’s honestly still shocked that Bucky is letting him help and Tony has a feeling he’ll agree to whatever it takes to make Bucky feel more comfortable about this whole thing.

“Okay,” Tony says with a quick nod, pulling his laptop a little closer and typing out a couple notes for himself as his mind begins whirring. He doesn’t exactly have super soldier restraints out here, but he can probably design something and have the fabricator get it whipped up before they’re ready to get to work. “I’m assuming you want the suit-sentries too?” He asks, barely waiting for the tiny dip of Bucky’s chin before continuing, “I have three suits here that are in working order, but if you want more I can have FRI fly a couple more from the tower.”

“No,” Bucky says slowly, “no, that should be fine.” He finally looks up at Tony again, one eyebrow raised and his expression somewhere between confused and impressed as he asks “you have sedatives that’ll work on me?”

“Of course!” Tony says with a bright grin, then smiles a little wider when the corners of Bucky’s lips quirk up. “And painkillers,” Tony says, nodding towards the bottle he left on the nightstand beside the glass of water, “the good stuff, I still had a bottle stashed in one of my suits. I will have to have the sedatives carted out from the compound though, maybe one of the suits can do that and then hey, we’ll have another one here to shove into the workshop. Neither of us will be able to move around.”

He tops that off with another quick grin, then mentally runs through a timetable of how long all of this will take. Definitely longer than they can get done tonight, even if they stay way later than they usually do for a scene, and Tony doesn’t love the idea of sending Bucky home alone and in pain until some point. And maybe a small part of him is concerned that Bucky will use that time to talk himself out of it when this really needs to get done.

“How would you feel about spending the night here?” Tony asks before he’s quite thought the idea through, but it really does seem like the best option. “Or- or maybe even the weekend? I can get all the work done in a day I think, but it’ll take most of the day and I think tomorrow will be best if- if you don’t have work or anything.” He can’t quite bring himself to look up at Bucky, instead focusing on his laptop again and gnawing on his lip for a second before adding “And at that point really you might as well just stay the whole weekend, if you can. Get some rest. Make sure nothing else goes horribly wrong and my handiwork doesn’t explode or anything.”

Tony is definitely pushing his luck now, there’s no real reason Bucky would need to stick around for another full day except for the fact that Tony wants to keep an eye on him. To make sure he’s actually resting, that he’s not pushing himself, and maybe it is hypocritical when Tony isn’t the best at doing those things himself, but that doesn't mean Tony is going to be able to stop himself from trying.

“Tryin’ to take care of me again?” Bucky asks and when Tony glances up at him again there’s a tiny smile on his face as he watches Tony back. He still looks a little unsure about this whole thing, but one corner of his mouth is pulled up in the tiniest of smiles.

Tony blinks innocently, giving him his best ‘who, me?’ face before huffing out a soft laugh and admitting, “Yep, you caught me. If... if you’ll let me, I mean.”

“I’d have to call out tomorrow, but... I think I can do that,” Bucky says slowly, his smile getting a little wider before it abruptly drops away. “What about- I can’t ask you to give up your whole weekend like that,” he says, the words spilling out of him much more quickly now, “I’ll be fine at my apartment Sunday, you don’t need to-”

“Hey, maybe I could use the break from the city too,” Tony interrupts with a teasing grin, and then when Bucky looks not at all convinced he adds, “seriously, you’re not pulling me away from anything important, I was planning on working on pet projects all weekend anyways. And I’d rather... I’d rather be here, making sure you’re okay.”

Now Tony is the one tapping at his thigh, and he’s about to start repeating reassurances that Bucky doesn’t have to stay, if he doesn’t want to, when Bucky slowly reaches over to place his hand over Tony’s and stop the nervous motion of his fingers. His hand is warm and incredibly gentle as he tangles their fingers together, as he drags his thumb over the back of Tony's hand.

"Are you sure?” Bucky asks, his eyes moving over Tony’s face, “You don't have to do this, it's- I'm dangerous, even with all the precautions. If something goes wrong I could...” He trails off, jaw clenching shut like he doesn’t even want to say the words and he doesn’t need to, Tony is sure they can both picture all the ways that could go wrong perfectly well. “Are you sure you want to do this?" Bucky finally asks, eyes still fixed on Tony’s even as his voice comes out thick.

"Yes," Tony says quickly, maybe too quickly because Bucky raises a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Yes, I'm sure," he says again, squeezing Bucky's fingers between his own, because he is, even with all the risks. His own lack of self preservation aside, if Bucky’s issue is the safety of the person helping him then there aren’t many people better equipped. “I want to help you,” he says, putting as much sincerity as he possibly can into the words, “if- as long as you’re comfortable with it.”

Bucky lets out a slow breath and then carefully raises their joined hands to press a kiss to the back of Tony’s hand. “I’m comfortable with you,” he says softly, lips still brushing against Tony's skin, "I just can't stand the thought of you gettin' hurt because of me. I told you before sweetheart, I’d rather cut my hand off than use it to hurt you. And that includes ripping this metal one right out of its socket if that's what it comes down to."

"Again, I don't think that will be necessary," Tony says and his voice comes out thick around the lump of emotion suddenly lodged in his throat. "How about you just let me fix it, nothing will go wrong, and we'll keep that as plan Z, deal?"

"Deal," Bucky says, and presses another kiss to Tony's knuckles before lowering their hands to rest between them. “Thank you, Tony,” he says softly, his eyes finally a little more clear of the shadows that have been hanging over him.

Tony can only sputter for a second, heat rising in his cheeks and unable to tear his eyes away, before he can choke out, “You- you’re welcome.”

He has to bite his lip against the urge to say more, like that this is nothing, that Tony would do a hell of a lot more if he thought Bucky would accept it, that he might do anything Bucky asked if it means just taking that painful looking tension from Bucky’s shoulders. He still has Rhodey’s words bouncing around in his head, ‘you want him to stick around, then you’re gonna have to open yourself up again,’ but it's not that easy. Sure, Bucky needs him now, needs a sub and someone to fix his arm, somewhere to escape the noise and chaos of the city, but what about eventually? When Tony is just a reminder of the past Bucky is trying to leave behind, when he finds a better sub, when Tony fucks this up in some exciting and completely unseen way, what then, Rhodey?!

What if opening up just chases Bucky away? When Tony comes on too strong, too fast, when he's too much? Bucky has enough to deal with, and this isn't about what Tony wants anyways.

So he swallows down all the words building in his chest and instead just says, "It'll be fine, you’ll see." Bucky still doesn't exactly look convinced, and Tony honestly isn't either, but he's always been great at faking confidence so with an exaggerated wink he adds, "And besides who here isn't dangerous?"

Bucky lets out a soft, startled laugh at that and it has warmth swelling in Tony's chest, surprised and pleased. But then Bucky abruptly goes silent again with an obvious wince when he apparently shifts a little too much, and Tony sits up straight from where he'd been leaning back against the headboard as well.

"You should take one of those pills now," Tony says, nodding to the bottle again, "or- they do kick in pretty quickly, do you want to hear the work I have planned for your arm first?"

It's unsurprising that Bucky barely has to think about it before deciding that he wants to hear every tiny detail of the plan first, and to Tony's relief Bucky has no objections to anything he's deemed vital. Tony is a little surprised that Bucky doesn't let go of his hand the entire time though, stroking his thumb over Tony's knuckles and listening avidly as Tony rambles on and on.

"And then last thing before I close it all up, I'll install the strobe lights and disco balls," Tony finishes, grinning widely when Bucky looks up at him with an expression of complete confusion that quickly melts into a flat, unimpressed stare.

"Very funny, wise guy," Bucky grumbles, thumping their joined hands against the bed, "feel real smart, picking on injured people?"

"I do," Tony says happily and can't resist carefully leaning over to press a light kiss to Bucky's temple before climbing back to his feet. He leaves his laptop in his vacated space and rounds the bed to grab the bottle of pills again. "Now take these," he says firmly, all but shoving a couple at Bucky, then hands him the glass of water and stares him down until Bucky actually takes them.

"I'm guessing those were made for Steve?" Bucky asks once he finishes off the water, and Tony even manages not to flinch at the mention.

"Yep, after the dummy broke both his legs in multiple places," Tony says, taking the glass back and casting around desperately for any other topic. He doesn't want to think about Steve night now, and how worried he would be if he knew about this, that he'd no doubt be pissed Tony hadn't decided to call him. "I'll get you more water; he says in a rush, backing towards the door, "you decide what you wanna do now, you can sleep more, or- eat dinner. I'll get us some dinner. By which I mean I'll order it. And there's a bunch of books here, or... movies. Think about it, I'll be right back."

Tony manages to talk himself all the way out of the room, leaving the door open behind him, and then he spends the short walk to the kitchen trying to get it together. The only thing he should be focusing on is helping Bucky, not what he wants, and not what Steve will have to say when he inevitably finds out about Tony hoarding his best friend. Ordering dinner doesn’t take long, he just repeats their pizza-by-drone order from a couple weeks ago with a plain cheese pizza on top in case Bucky isn’t feeling up to his usual barrage of toppings at the moment, and then Tony is on his way back to the bedroom with a fresh glass of water.

“Dinner is on its way,” he says as he steps back into the room, “and it’s being delivered by a drone named HipperThanU, which I thought you would enjoy.”

He is not at all prepared for the wide smile he gets in reaction, lighting up Bucky’s entire face like the past several hours and days of pain never happened, though at least Tony is expecting the way it makes his heart lurch in his chest. The way Bucky is fully slumped back against the headboard now and tilting slightly to the side means the painkillers must be kicking in, which explains the easy grin at least. Now Tony just needs to have a little talk with his heart about what the hell it thinks it's doing.

“I do enjoy that,” Bucky says, still grinning widely, then he pats the empty side of the bed again with slightly sluggish movements and says “now why don’t you come back here and tell me about your week, baby?”

“Oof, I don’t know if we have enough time,” Tony says as he all too eagerly crawls back into the bed, careful not to spill the water and breathing a little easier now that it finally looks like Bucky’s not in obvious pain. “We’re only going to be here all weekend.”

The laugh that Bucky lets out at that can really only be described as a snortgiggle, and maybe Tony should have spent a little more time thinking about Steve. Maybe then he would have remembered before right now that these pills made Steve pretty damn loopy, and considered that maybe they would do that same to Bucky.

And that’s definitely what appears to be happening, with the way Bucky laughs harder at his own ridiculous sound, and Tony can’t do anything but smile helplessly at him. It’s such a drastic change from the pain Bucky had been in when he first climbed out of the car, when he first woke up, and Tony feels like he can finally breathe again. He watches curiously as Bucky sluggishly frowns down at his dead arm before looking up at Tony again, mouth open like he’s going to say something as soon as he can remember what it is.

“That’s more than enough time for me baby,” Bucky finally says with a lascivious grin, startling a laugh out of Tony and well, this should be an interesting weekend.