Work Text:
I hear when you pull up
Calling from the pickup
I'm tripping down the hallway
You lookin' like a vision
You're talkin' and I listen
We run away like always
<T 12:42am>: 911
<S 12:43am>: we’re on our way baby
<S 12:43am>: just hold on
Tony snatches his phone up the second it buzzes, wincing when the quick movement jostles his injured hand. He’s only slightly surprised that he got a response so fast. But it makes him breathe a sigh of relief, and he leans his head back against the wall where’s he’s huddled in the corner of his bedroom
It feels like forever and no time at all before his phone lights up again.
<S 12:57>: let’s go
Fourteen minutes. That has to be a new record. But Tony doesn’t stop to ponder how many traffic laws his boyfriend must have broken to make it there so fast. He just snatches up his coat and slips out of his bedroom into the dark hallway.
The path to the front door takes him straight past Howard’s office, and he can see the light through the crack in the door. So he slows his steps, plastering himself to the wall, desperately trying to be silent. He moves carefully, knowing if he makes a sound, if he alerts his father to his presence, his escape will be thwarted. And he can’t let that happen. The door’s right there, he just has to take a few more steps and…
“Tony?”
He freezes. Shit!
The sound of Howard’s chair creaking sends him into panic mode, and Tony bolts. He doesn’t even stop to grab his shoes as he rips the front door open and sprints down the long driveway to the gate, not bothering to check if the door even shuts behind him. The dark outline of Steve’s truck waits just up the road, and the passenger door pops open for him as soon as the massive gate clangs shut.
Tony gets one foot on the runner and a hand flies out to haul him into the cab, tugging him into strong arms as the truck roars to life. He can feel himself shaking as he clutches at Bucky’s shirt, the adrenaline pumping through his blood washing away the pain in his hand for a few moments. The older boy deposits him in the empty space between driver and passenger, keeping an arm wrapped around Tony’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his hair.
He feels another hand come from his left to tangle into his hair, and Steve presses his fingers gently into his scalp before slipping it down to tangle his fingers with Tony’s.
“We’ve got you sweetheart, it’s gonna be ok.”
Tony drifts as the truck rumbles down the road, losing track of time a little in the steady thump of Bucky’s heartbeat under his cheek and Steve’s warm hand in his own. The throbbing pain in his right hand feels dulled under their combined presence, easy to ignore for now. Eventually he feels them slow and then park, eyes blinking out into the dark as Steve shuts off the truck and the headlights wink out. But he squeezes them shut and tries to burrow into Bucky’s shirt as the lights in the cab flick on.
“Come on, Tones. Let me see the damage.”
He sighs, then sits up gingerly, cradling his injured hand against his chest. Bucky lets out a low whistle as one big hand comes up to cradle Tony’s jaw, and when Tony carefully pries his eyes open, he realizes he can only slightly see his boyfriend through his left eye. Howard must have hit him harder than he thought.
“That’s quite the shiner. Asshole really did a number this time, huh?”
Tony tries to shrug, but the movement jostles his hand and he lets out a whine as the pain comes flaring back in full force. The sound startles the other two boys in the truck, and Bucky automatically reaches out to wrap his fingers around the younger boy’s wrist and tug his hand into the light.
The middle and ring fingers of Tony’s right hand are swollen and purple, and the swelling extends down into the bulk of his hand. Bucky swears a blue streak, glancing over Tony’s shoulder at Steve before ducking his head down to meet one frightened brown eye.
“Honey, your fingers are broken. Maybe your whole hand. We need to take you to the hospital.”
Tony shakes his hand frankly, and tries to pull his hand back. “No. No, we can’t. Th-they’ll ask questions and… I can’t. He’ll just make it go away and then it’ll be even worse for me. Besides, Steve’s a boy scout. He can just… set it. I’ll be fine. Please.”
“Jesus Christ, Tony!”
Behind him, Steve slams a hand on the steering wheel and shoves his door open, slamming it shut and stalking around the front of the truck to stand with his hands on his hips as he stares out into the darkness. Tony flinches toward Bucky, the forceful anger making him shake again as tears gather in his good eye.
Bucky immediately gathers him up in his arms, tucking the smaller boy into his chest and resting his chin in Tony’s dark curls.
“Hey. It’s ok, doll. That’s not for you. He’s pissed at your dad. Stevie loves you, just as much as I do, okay? We won’t ever, ever hurt you like that. Promise.”
The windows are open, so Bucky knows Steve can hear him. Sure enough, when he looks up, the blonde is staring at them through the windshield with a guilty look on his face. Bucky glares at him, and Steve deflates even farther before coming back around to climb in the truck. He reaches for Tony, gently tugging him from Bucky’s arms to wrap him up in a hug. The brunette goes easily, wrapping the fingers of his good hand tightly in Steve’s shirt.
“Bucky’s right. We love you. We’re gonna do whatever we can to protect you.”
He tucks a finger under Tony’s chin, lifting his head up until their eyes meet. Steve gives him his most loving, reassuring smile.
“There you are. In a couple months, you’ll be eighteen and then you’ll graduate. And then we’re gonna take you away. Away from this house, and away from that monster. Wherever you wanna go. Doesn’t matter, as long as you’re safe and with us. Right, Buck?”
There’s the rustle of fabric as Bucky slides across the seat, and then he’s plastered against Tony’s back. He presses a kiss to the top of the younger boy’s head, and then one to the back of his neck.
“Got that right. We’re gonna disappear, somewhere he can’t find you. Can’t find us. And then we can just be Steve and Bucky and Tony. We can be whatever we want to be.”
Tony sighs, looking from Steve to Bucky and back. What they’re saying sounds so good, but a part of him feels like it’s unreachable. That he could never be free from Howard’s abuse. But another part of him, a rapidly growing part, wants to believe it. They make him want to believe it.
“Promise?”
Steve holds him a little tighter, reaching up to wrap a hand around the back of Bucky’s skull to pull him closer too until their foreheads touch.
“Yeah, Tony. We promise. It’s gonna be ok.”
So cut the headlights
Keep rolling 'til the sun
We'll fight the good fight
When tomorrow has come
And it's easy pretending we're alright
'Cause we live free, at least
Until the lights