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He was, for lack of a better word, utterly confused.
One second he was watching Sam successfully catch the armored vehicle, and by proxy the hostages still trapped inside, before pushing it back onto the scaffolding as an overwhelming sense of pride creeped in. For a moment, he wasn’t worried about the Flag Smashers there on the ground with him, or what Walker might do next. But that was all the time it took because that next second he’s looking up at the dark New York sky.
This was when the confusion began to form into a couple of short thoughts and memories. First, he automatically thought about his fall from the train, and how fast he sped toward the earth below him. Second, he thought about the time he jumped after Steve while debris rained down around them in DC. This time he did not feel himself falling so he shouldn’t have landed on anything.
Which was why Bucky was confused as to why and how he was staring at the sky.
The NYC skyscrapers seemingly blended with the dark sky, and Bucky knew that wasn’t right. The lights in the buildings looked like stars and the stars looked like windows.
“Bucky,” he heard someone say. “Bucky, talk to me.”
“I’m right here,” he said. Or, rather, tried to say. Why does his voice sound so pained?
“Yeah, I can see that. Try not to move, okay? Let me see,”
Bucky blinked and turned his head to the left, where he noticed the remaining Flag Smashers scattered around the construction sight, all groaning on the ground.
“We gotta get them befo-arggghh!”
He’d made the mistake of moving, a mistake he wasn’t sure was actually a mistake until his vision swam and a sharp pain radiated from his right side. A hand pushed him back to the ground, right as Sam said “I told you not to move.”
Bucky cursed.
After taking a series of deep breaths, he glanced down to see what the cause of all his pain was.
“Is that-?” he couldn’t even finish his question, let alone his thought, as he stared at the slender object embedded in his side.
“Yeah,” said Sam as he looked at the wound, his Pararescue skills kicking into high gear. “It’s just a small piece of rebar, Bucky, nothing to be alarmed about.”
“You off all people bought into that bullshit?” said Karli from across the way as she stood up.
Bucky watched Sam size up the super soldier before he stood, probably not sure what the woman would choose to do next. “I’m trying something different. Maybe you should do the same,”
Before anyone could make a move, a series of small pops echoed around them before the area began to fill with smoke. The Flag Smashers took that as their cue and ran away, Bucky noticed. He also noticed Sam made no effort to go after them.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked. Bucky tried and failed to get to his feet, groaned in pain and frustration as he turned toward the direction of Sam who was still somewhere nearby. “They’re getting away,”
“And you’re bleeding out. Hold still,”
What Bucky couldn’t see was Sam scanning his injury with his new HUD, checking to see how bad the damage was. It only took five seconds, but it may as well have been all night.
“The rebar missed everything vital, but you’re still bleeding a lot,”
“Okay,” said Bucky. He steeled himself and gripped the end of the rebar with his right hand and, before Sam (or Walker, not that he cared) could stop him, he pulled the metal out with a muffled shout. “There. Now, let’s go,”
“What the-shit, Bucky! You can’t just pull that out like-”
“I heal fast,” said Bucky as he pushed himself to his feet. Someone helped steady him once he was one his feet, then he brushed them off and he sought his bearings. “Which way did they go?”
There was a short huff and pause before Sam replied. “This way,”
Bucky followed Sam into part of the constructed building, Walker right on his heels. He held his right arm tight to his side, took deep breaths through the pain that seemingly engulfed his side with each step he took. After a minute or so, Sam slowed his jog and pointed toward a hallway.
“Looks like they split up. Here,”
Walker wasted no time and took off. Bucky knew what Sam was thinking so he followed Walker. “I got it,” he said, though he wondered if that were the case.
It took a long time, but Bucky finally caught up with John. Over that unknown amount of time the bleeding did not slow or stop as his hand was now completely covered in blood. “Shit,”
“You okay?” asked Walker.
Bucky brushed past him, not sure if his question was out of curiosity or something else entirely. So, he didn’t reply to that and instead asked, “You see them?”
“No,”
He leaned back against a nearby wall and closed his eyes. Just when he thought he would have time to himself. Just when he thought he would have time to deal with everything that had happened since he returned, someone had to go and make more super soldiers.
“This place is too big. Even if you were at full strength-”
Bucky opened one eye and glared at Walker.
“-there’s still too much ground to cover,”
He wasn’t going to admit it aloud, but Bucky knew Walker was right. And he would admit this either, but he wasn’t sure how long he could hold out against the super soldiers if they got into another fight. Bucky pressed his hand harder against his side and sighed.
Then it hit him.
“Wait,” he said. Bucky reached into his pocket with his left hand and fished out a phone. The same phone one of Karli’s followers gave him (that led to the Flag Smashers getting the hostages in the first place, but that was neither here nor there at the moment). “I’ve got an idea.”
While he may be 106 years old, Bucky wasn’t a complete luddite. Sure he still preferred to do things the “old fashioned” way, like go to the library rather than use Google for research, but he did pick up on the whole technology thing well enough.
The phone was simple and straightforward, which he was grateful for. He was able to send out a message with a location to the Flag Smashers, and would have law enforcement waiting for them when they arrived.
“Ready. It’s just over there,” Bucky said as he pointed.
It only took a few minutes, but the Flag Smashers walked right into their trap. They seemed surprised when Walker and Bucky stepped in front of them. Bucky held the phone in his vibranium hand, his right still wrapped tightly around his side. “It’s a great app,” he said as officers moved in.
Walker quoted someone, Lincoln, Bucky automatically noted, but didn’t bother to come up with a witty remark. It took most of his focus to put one foot in front of the other and Bucky soon realized he must have zoned out because he found himself back in the square where a crowd had already gathered.
He leaned against the side of some emergency vehicle right as Sam arrived carrying a dead Karli in his arms. Part of him heard the meaningful speech he gave, but the words didn’t translate well in Bucky's fog-filled mind. He blinked once and Sam was still talking to the GRC leaders then the next Sam was standing by his side with a worried look on his face.
“Sorry, I was busy texting so all I heard was “a black guy carrying the stars and stripes”,” Bucky muttered with a bit of humor that didn’t reach Sam’s ears.
“Texting my ass, you’re still bleeding,”
Bucky huffed. “No shit, Sherlock,”
“Oh, you’ve read Sherlock, too? Ha ha ha,” said Sam. “Seriously, Bucky, just go to the hospital,”
“No,” Bucky walked over to an unoccupied ambulance and pulled open the back doors. Once inside, he rifled through until he gathered some supplies. “I’ve got this,” He wavered on his feet as he climbed out of the ambulance, his vision darkening slightly as he walked away.
Sam threw his hands up in the air as he replied, “I can see that you don’t. At least let me help you,”
Bucky stopped and narrowed his eyes at Sam. There, clad in his new Captain America uniform, stood a man his best friend trusted his life and shield with. What were the chances he could do the same?
“Fine,”
Bucky agreed to let Sam treat his wounds, but not until they were back at his apartment where there was some privacy. He sat down in a chair after taking off his jacket and leaned back, pushing up his shirt.
“Looks like it’ll need a few stitches,” said Sam.
“Great,”
Bucky hated getting stitches. The pull on his skin reminded him of how HYDRA manipulated the remnants of his arm while they worked on creating the metal one for the Winter Soldier. He’d much rather cauterize the hole shut with gunpowder and a match and be done with it.
“You ready?” asked Sam as he held the needle and thread in hand.
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as he looked up at the ceiling.
It didn’t take long. Sam knew what he was doing. Bucky didn’t know a lot about his time as a Pararescue, but trusted his skills without question. Once Wilson was done, Bucky ran his right hand over the now closed wound.
“Thank, Sam,” he said. “Really,”
“You’re welcome,” said Sam as he threw the gloves and gauze away. “Hey, you got anything planned?”
Bucky sat up. “When?”
“Not sure yet. There’s a community thing coming up back home, maybe you’d like to come? Relax a bit, eat some good food?”
Bucky thought about that and was nodding before he even made up his mind. “Yeah, I think I can fit that in,” he said with a shrug. “Is Sarah going to be there?”
Sam threw a roll of gauze at Bucky’s head, which the soldier easily caught with his left hand. “Stay away from my sister,” Sam warned.
“Uh huh,” said Bucky with a big grin.