Chapter Text
There was something quite surreal in sitting on a couch besides one James Buchanan Barnes. Tucked under the man’s arm and enjoying the heat he was producing, Tony felt comfier than he would have expected when it came to cuddling with a former assassin. Natasha was good and nice, she was also very cuddly when nobody was looking, but she had nothing on Bucky, who, Tony thought, nobody would have pegged as a cuddler.
Nor as someone who liked to watch animated movies made for children. Yet, here they were for the third time this week, huddled in one side of the common room’s couch, entirely ignoring the available space in order to stick together.
Bucky had tucked his arm around Tony, keeping him close. Sometimes, seemingly unaware and unable to help himself from doing it, he was playing with the hair on the back of Tony’s neck, which shouldn’t feel as good as it did. It distracted Tony from the movie to focus solely on the motion of fingers against the nape of his neck, bringing up goosebumps and making Tony’s eyes heavier by the minute. It was a feather light touch, drawing random patterns over his skin and when Bucky grew tired of it, he settled his hand over Tony’s neck, his thumb rubbing back and forth, gentle and slow, an even rhythm that didn’t help Tony in keeping his eyes open.
Feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time, Tony had let his head fall down on Bucky’s shoulder, curling his legs under him and feeling ready to have a small nap. His eyes sure as hell felt like closing, made heavy by the distracting pattern rubbed on his skin and the contented feeling growing in his chest. He felt more loose and comfortable than he ever felt while lying down in his bed, waiting for sleep to find and take him.
As he settled more comfortably against Bucky, cuddled up to him close enough that most of his body was plastered against the soldier’s side, Tony basked in the heat and the smell. He yawned sleepily, nuzzling against Bucky’s throat to find a comfortable way to settle down and indulge in the sleepiness creeping up on him.
Bucky hummed, a deep, rumbling sound that made Tony smile from where his ear was pressed against Bucky’s shoulder. He could hear it, feel it, and the hand that lowered itself from his neck to his waist, the thumb never stopping its gentle rubbing, only made him relax even further.
Tony could almost feel Morpheus’ embrace when, suddenly, Bucky tensed. The shoulder where Tony’s head rested, lax and comfy a second ago, became as hard as steel. The hand and fingers on Tony’s side, that were caressing and gently rubbing over the fabric of his shirt, was now painfully tight over his ribs, making Tony wince and shift uncomfortably, brows pinched in worry. Bucky’s soothing, cosy embrace had become a prison, holding Tony tight, squeezing him close as the body against his started shaking.
Tony straightened as much as he was able to and looked up at Bucky, worried. The fingers digging into Tony’s ribs weren’t shaking, unlike the rest of Bucky’s body. His eyes, wide and frightened, showed more white than blue, the pupils dilated almost to the point of swallowing the thin ring of iris. Bucky’s breathing had quickened dangerously, his chest raising more than his lungs drew air, the rhythm faltering more often than not.
“You ok, cupcake?”
Panic attacks were a common occurrence among the Avengers but it was the first time Tony saw Bucky falling prey to them. He knew, though, that they happened, that much was obvious and to be expected, but usually Bucky was good at avoiding triggers and would stay alone when he felt like the day would be bad enough that he would rather avoid company altogether. His face was ashen and his forehead glistening with sweat, he looked terrified and lost.
Tony glanced at the TV where the movie, Anastasia, was still playing. The voices of the characters fell to the background in favor of the staccato of an ongoing train and, as Tony realized, a landscape of snow, in the distance a broken bridge over a never ending void. He knew that scene, it was when Dimitri had to lie down beneath the speeding train to attach some chains and almost got hit by something, only staying up because of Anastasia’s help.
Something told him, unable to keep loathing and dripping venom from its voice, that watching a movie with that kind of scene without warning Bucky beforehand had been a mistake. Not that Tony had remembered that specific scene when he had proposed the movie to an exhausted Bucky who looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare and searching for an excuse to stay awake.
Mind still foggy from the light doze Tony had almost slipped into, he wriggled until he had a little more room to manoeuver, holding back a wince when Bucky’s fingers didn’t slacken their hold around his ribs. Mindful of the idea that, maybe, talking to JARVIS might not be a good idea at the moment, Tony stretched and reach out for the remote.
Before he knew it, though, and as his fingers brushed over the side of it, Bucky’s fingers retreated from his ribs and the body beside Tony’s moved lightning fast. A solid punch landed on Tony’s other side, making him gasp and lose his balance. Flailing to find purchase and stay even remotely upright, Tony failed and landed hard on the ground. Quickly remembering hard learned lessons, he rolled to the side to get out of reach but a bare foot found his back and kicked him right between the shoulderblades. Panting for air, Tony rose to his knees, hands open and at the ready, mind reeling from the sudden movement and unable to catch up.
He thought he could dodge a punch, find his balance and get in the fight. However, before Tony could see it, a fist caught him off guard and he dropped to the floor, darkness swallowing him too fast to be fought off but not fast enough to spare him the blast of pain erupting from his face.
***
For a couple of agonizing slow thinking minutes, Tony wondered why in the fucking hell his ass had landed in the medbay. Again.
He remembered a cozy night with Bucky, cuddled up in the couch and pretending to watch a movie all the while enjoying probably a little too much the lazy fingers petting his hair and caressing his skin.
Something moved in the corner of his eye, but before Tony could catch a glimpse of it, the door to his room closed quietly, leaving him alone with nothing but guesses and questions.
Frowning at the closed door, Tony sighed and shifted on his pillows, wincing when his ribs protested. He settled, trying to find a more comfortable position and, knowing he wouldn’t find any as long as he stayed there, Tony joined his hands in his lap and let his mind run wild. The pace of his thoughts was slower than usual but nothing that stopped him from processing the different places where his body ached. There was nothing concerning, aside maybe from his ribs but he knew they weren’t broken. His nose, however, was definitely broken and that, on the other hand, sucked big time.
He was feeling around the side of the bed, knowing he had been taken to one of the rooms that were actually made for his sorry ass and that a tablet with his name on it was waiting to be found, when it all came back like a slap to the face. He froze, the tip of his fingers brushing against the hard border of a tablet but he couldn’t care less about it now.
Tony held back an exasperated sigh. Train, snow, almost falling and of course he had suggested that kind of fucking movie for Bucky to watch mindlessly after another nightmare. Why the fuck not rub the poor guy’s nose in one of what might probably be his worse memories? And feature in some, if not most, of his goddamn nightmares? The same ones Bucky was very much trying to escape at that moment?
What a surprise, Tony thought bitterly. Bucky was looking for some reprieve from his nightmares and Tony just so happened to be there. What could go wrong?
Of fucking course he had made it worse.