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He had just arrived in a room at the location Sam sent over when someone headed toward him with a knife in hand, poised to attack. He managed to dodge a few blows as they traded hits and kicks, but eventually the weapon landed true before he had time to dodge.
The knife plunged into Bucky’s abdomen up to its hilt, but the Flag Smasher didn’t stop there. Blood pooled around the new wound and quickly soaked through Bucky’s jacket and down the right side of his leg as the man in front of him pressed it in, hard . He stumbled back a couple of steps as the man tried to take him down but Bucky managed to maintain his footing as the fight continued.
Bucky clenched his teeth as the Flag Smasher chuckled beneath his mask and twisted the blade that was protruding from his side. With his vibranium arm, Bucky gripped his wrist and squeezed it until he screamed and let go, but before he could create any more distance the Flag Smasher kicked him back and he rolled across the room until he came to a rest against a wall.
He laid there dazed, his vision went in and out as he struggled to catch his breath. He reached across his middle, felt the seeping blood that slipped between the fingers of his right hand. Across the room, the fight continued with Walker and Sam doing what they could against the very ones they were trying to stop. Bucky rolled over onto this side, tried to push himself up onto his feet but the world tilted violently and he collapsed back down with a soft groan.
Getupgetupgetupgetupget-
One of the Flag Smashers headed toward an unsuspecting Sam and Bucky struggled to get to his feet. He held his left arm tight against his stomach as he fought for purchase on the ground and with as much force as he could muster, he knocked them back before they could get to Wilson. This action was just enough to pull against the wound and it took all of Barnes’ focus and will not to pass out and collaspe. Instead he muttered, “You’re welcome,” and stumbled away, blood dripping onto the ground behind him.
Before Bucky had a chance to even think about stopping to catch his breath, he noticed Karli charging toward Walker with a knife in hand. The scene played out before him in slow motion. She slid across a table, reared back for the killing blow, but Hoskins plowed into her. Bucky blinked and watched as Walker’s partner slammed into a pillar across the room and stilled.
Silence filled the room until Walker pleaded with Lemar to wake up. The Flag Smashers ran off in different directions and Bucky pushed the pain in his side down and followed them through the building, Sam on his heels.
By the time they got outside, Walker was already standing over the body of one of the Flag Smashers. It wasn’t pretty. Bystanders were filming and Bucky’s jaw dropped, but not at the sight of the decapitated man. His eyes were drawn to the blood that dripped from the shield.
How could it have come to this? How could he let this happen and let Steve down in the process? His breath hitched in his throat as he pulled his arm tight against his side, unable to pull his eyes away from the horror before him.
As the crowd grew and onlookers gasped in horror, Bucky was pulled from his straying thoughts when Sam stepped into his field of view and all but pulled him down a nearby alley-way. “What’re doing?” he asked as he backed up, careful to keep pressure on his side.
“I’d been calling you but you just zoned out,” said Sam as he narrowed his eyes. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay,” Bucky yelled as loud as he dared to, which wasn’t all that loud to begin with. “Walker just murdered that guy, with Steve’s shield, the shield you gave him-”
“For the millionth time, Buck, I did not give Walker-”
“And for what? Huh? The legacy of that shield is stained and-” Bucky groaned when his excessive gesturing pulled at the still bleeding wound. He cursed and backed away from Sam, opting to lean against a stone wall as he waited for the pain to subside.
“Bucky?”
“We can’t let him keep going like this, Sam,” said Bucky. “I can’t let him down. Not again,”
“Bucky, what’s wrong?” Sam asks. When he hones in on how the other man is holding himself, his eyes go wide. “Shit, Bucky, what happened?”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Sam,” said Bucky as he pushed off the wall and began to stumble down the alley.
“Oh, I’m not, we’re totally revisiting this conversation but before we go charging after Walker we need to treat your wound. “What happened?”
“Knife.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Sam huffed as he followed after a short jog. “Let me see,”
Bucky kept walking. “I’ll heal,”
“This amazing blood trail you’re leaving behind tells me you might bleed out before you get a chance,”
Bucky couldn’t tell if Sam was being sarcastic or serious. He does realize that the bleed had only slowed slightly, if the droplets of blood that stained the cobblestoned streets were any indication. And if they were going after Walker, if they were going to be successful in taking the shield, he needed his healing factor to kick in sooner rather than later.
Without so much of a word, Bucky stopped and pulled back his left arm, allowing Sam access to his wound. He winced when the matted fabric was pulled back and the wound was exposed to the open air. “So, doc, am I gonna make it?” he asked with a bit of dry humor that obviously fell flat.
“Yes,”
Bucky pulled his arm back down and said, “Told you,”
“But it needs to be closed up. And I don’t exactly have a med kit with me,”
“You were Pararescue, how do you not have a med kit?” Bucky asked. “Isn’t that the equivalent to being a Boy Scout or something? Always be prepared?”
“Do you-do you see what I wear? Do you see a place where I can carry a fully loaded med kit with me at all times? You know what, don’t answer that. I’ll just have to use what I have,”
Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Which is… what, exactly?”
“I’m going to cauterize it,”
“Oh, now that’s just great,”
After walking around town for a little while longer, Sam pointed to a run down building, what appeared to be an abandoned factory. The two men stepped inside a small office space and Sam shrugged off his wings while Bucky leaned against a dirt covered desk. The only sound that filled the room was of Sam fiddling with his pack while Bucky waited impatiently.
“While I’m still young, Samuel,”
Sam laughed as he walked over. “That’s funny, Buck. Pull your shirt up, will ya?”
Bucky did as he was told and steeled himself for what was going to come next.
“Sorry I don’t have anything for the pain,”
Bucky huffed, which turned into a groan. “Wouldn’t do me any good,”
“Right, well, even for you, this is gonna hurt,”
“I’ve dealt with worse,” Bucky said, and before Sam could comment, he added, “Just get on with it,”
To say it was a quick and dirty process would be an understatement. Sam held his jerry rigged device against Bucky's side and pulled it across the length of the wound, the skin slowly melting back together as he went. To Bucky’s credit, he held his tongue and kept his mouth shut, but Sam didn’t miss the dent his vibrainum hand made in the table holding him upright.
When Sam cut the torch, Bucky was breathing deeply and a sheet of sweat was now covering his brow. The smell of burnt flesh was strong. Bucky worked on getting his breathing back to normal while Sam reassembled his pack.
“Thanks,” he said.
“I’m just making sure you get a least another 100 years or so,”
Bucky was about to quip back when a noise caught his attention. He took a few steps toward the door and listened. “You hear that?”
“No,”
Bucky waited, then he heard it again. “Someone’s out there,”
Sam straightened at that. “You don’t think-”
“And if it is?” Bucky asked. “We have no choice,”
“Yeah, okay, okay,” said Sam. “Just try not to get hurt this time.”
Bucky stepped out of the room and headed toward the sound. “That’ll be up to Walker.”