Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A year after May Parker died, Peter decided that he needed to find a way to make the world a less shitty place. With his newfound anonymity he found himself surrounded in a great deal of loneliness, but he also found himself with a unique opportunity to start fresh, to reinvent himself and change his narrative. So, he decided that he would make Peter Parker just as much of a hero as Spider-Man. That’s how he found himself volunteering at the hospital May had worked at. He told the lead nurse that he was May’s nephew, which was true, but left out all the tidbits about how he had essentially grown up in this hospital, visiting May after school. No one here remembered him, but they remembered May. Of course they remembered May. She was fantastic.

Anyway, he found himself at the hospital, volunteering alongside the lead nurse, named Mabel. He had told her he was interested in becoming a nurse, and that he wanted to follow in his aunt's footsteps and live up to her legacy. She’d simply been happy to have help, with all the tragedies that seemed to be constantly going on in the universe, they were critically understaffed at the hospital and they needed all the help they could get, even if it was coming from people who had no idea what they were doing. Example: Peter.

Mabel wasn’t old. She was only around 30 or so, she just had hippie parents who thought giving her an old lady name would automatically make her super rad, and they hadn’t been wrong. She had sleeves of tattoos on her arms, depicting flowers and fish. Which Peter remembered she used to describe as two of her favorite F words.

Mabel had always been a kind woman. Peter had known her for a very long time. When he had initially come to live with May and Ben after his parents died, Mabel had always made it a point to help him with his homework after school. She used to bring May cookies specifically to give to Peter. Her peanut butter cookies had been legendary. But now, just like everyone else in the world, she didn’t remember him. 

She explained that the thing the hospital needed most was someone to just sit with certain patients who were alone. It was in fact the thing Peter was most qualified to do, and required no medical interference on his part. It’s not like Peter was in any way qualified to be treating people for anything. While he had gotten some medical knowledge between growing up with May and being with the Avengers, he was certain the sutures he had learned how to do from Clint Barton were absolutely not medical grade. The hospital just needed him to come and spend a few hours each week being a friend. Peter had a lot of experience with being a friend to people, I mean not lately, he’d been alone for over a year, but there was a time where he had been really good at being a friend. And besides, they just needed him to sit with people while they received chemo treatments. Talk to them. Make them feel less alone. Peter figured that was easy enough.

He was of course, for the pure sake of plot development, wrong.

It started off pretty easy. Mabel brought him into the room, and had him dress in a yellow ppe suit, (Personal Protection Equipment) because he couldn’t risk bringing any kind of outside infection to the people in here, it could make them really sick, and could actually kill some of them, and Peter was definitely against the concept of being responsible for any of them dying. The room was cold, and filled with white and unimaginably sad despite clear efforts to brighten up the room with brightly colored blankets and well intentioned motivational quotes on the walls. And, due to the fact it was a hospital and a room devoted to the people inside with the worst immune systems, it reeked of hand sanitizer and antiseptic, yet unable to mask the scent of the vomit that frequently made its presence in the room.

Mabel handed him a clipboard, with the names of the five people who were there receiving treatment that day. 

“We really just need you to be there for them. We don’t have enough staff to have someone in here monitoring all the time, so if they ask for anything like a drink, or a bucket, you can go ahead and give it to them, if it’s something like a medication, they all have access to the nurse call button, and one of us will come in to fix that. Really we just need you to be a friend. Talk to them. Make them feel less alone.” Mabel took a deep breath. “Any questions?” 

Peter shook his head. “Nope, I’m all good. Thank you.” 

“I bet you and your aunt May got along really well. You’re a lot like her. She’d be proud to know you were giving your time here. This was one of her favorite places to be. She used to spend her lunch breaks here.” Mabel said softly. “We only have one patient in here right now, more will come in 30 minute intervals for the next couple hours, and a nurse will come with each one to hook them up to their treatments. Thank you so much for being willing to help Peter, it means a lot.” 

Peter nodded nervously, and Mabel led him over to the only patient in the room, a young girl, around his own age, going through her second treatment, named Joy. She was pretty, not that that gave her value, but she was. Her hair was long and blonde, with curls, and she had done it in two French braids. She wore an oversized Green Day shirt with a pair of leggings and Converse. Per her paperwork, her parents had died a few years before in a car accident, and now she was battling lung cancer. She smiled at him when he sat down, but in a way that made it clear she wanted to roll her eyes in reference to his presence in the room.

“Didn't think I needed a babysitter anymore.” She said softly.

“Oh uh, I’m not here for that, I’m just here to be a friend.” Peter said nervously.

“They paying you well for that?” She asked with a laugh.

“I’m a volunteer.” Peter said softly.

“Oh, well I guess that’s cool. Although I feel like you’ve probably got better ways to spend your time than being here.” She laughed. “Haven't you got friends or a family to spend your weekends with?” Joy asked.

“They’re pretty much all dead.” Peter said with a shrug.

“Blunt. I like it.” Joy laughed. “Anyway, sorry for being a bit of a bitch, I’m just kinda over this whole dying concept.” She laughed.

“I mean, that makes sense, and I’m sorry.” Peter said nervously.

“It’s not your fault, no need to apologize.” She said softly. “Anyways, what’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry I should have introduced myself sooner!“ Peter said. “I’m Peter. My aunt used to work here.” 

“Were you under the impression that working here would make you feel closer to her?” Joy asked, raising her eyebrow. Peter laughed. She reminded him a lot of MJ, with her abnormal levels of sarcasm laced with an essence of actually giving a shit.

“I guess so.” Peter said softly. 

“Sorry, that was probably beyond insensitive. Anyway, I don’t mean to be like this, I’m just not very good at socializing with people anymore.” Joy said softly, vaguely embarrassed.

“It’s okay. I’m not as good as I used to be with people either.” Peter said softly.

“Anyway. Sorry for being an asshole. I know you’ve got good intentions in being here, and being sick doesn’t give me any right to treat you like shit. I’m down to have a friend. Hell, I guess deep down I kinda need one right now.” Joy laughed.

It was odd being there, and having a life full of stories that he couldn't really tell anyone about. Not that he had ever been able to go around advertising the time in which he had been friends with Tony, or his adventures as Spider-Man, but now, no one knew who he was, and his life prior to being Spider-Man wasn’t really anything to write a book about. Although he wasn’t certain that Joy was the kind of person who would be entertained by stories of Tony. 

“So what do you like to do?” Peter asked. Joy appreciated that he didn’t include the words when you’re not here even though she knew that was definitely a part of the question. It made her feel slightly more normal, even though she knew the extra four words didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. 

“I’m an artist.” Joy said softly. “I love painting, and drawing, and it’s why I moved to the city, because there’s just so much here to be able to draw, I couldn't ever possibly run out of references. What about you? What do you do, when you’re not here?” 

“I like taking pictures.” Peter said truthfully. “I work over at the daily bugle on the side, sometimes.” 

“That’s actually pretty cool.” Joy said softly. “You don’t seem like the creative type.” 

“Everyone’s got a hobby.” Peter smiled. 

“That’s fair.” Joy said softly. She closed her eyes for a moment, riding through nausea.

“Can I grab you a drink?” Peter asked, picking up on her cues via Peter tingle, but not exposing that. She nodded.

“Sprite please.” Joy said softly.

“One sprite coming right up.” Peter smiled before going over to the well stocked mini fridge containing Sprite, and other various drinks including Ginger ale, coke and Gatorade.

They sat and talked for a little while longer before Mabel came back in, bringing another patient in, this one was much farther into the treatment than Joy, and he was riding in a wheelchair, face gaunt and hair nowhere to be seen, he was missing his left arm, and there was a black sleeve covering the stump. Mabel wheeled him into the bay next to Joy, and hooked him up. Mabel walked over to Peter and Joy.

“I’m glad you guys are getting along so well. I knew you would.” Mabel said softly. 

“He’s pretty great.” Joy said with a smile.

Peter got up and walked over to greet the person Mabel had just brought in. He was looking down at his lap, shirt moved to expose the port in his chest to give him chemo. He looked up at Peter and Peter did his best not to let his mouth drop wide open. The chart Mabel had given him said the man’s name was James, and didn’t list a last name, none of the names had included a last name admittedly, but Peter knew him as Bucky. He looked at Bucky, er James, and smiled.

“Peter?” Bucky asked, looking at him confused. “What are you doing here?” 

Then, Peter’s mouth dropped open.

He sat down in the chair next to Bucky, and raised his finger to his own lips. 

“I don’t know why you can’t remember me, but I can’t talk about this right now.” Peter said softly. “I promise I’ll explain everything I know later, but I can’t do this right now.” 

“Everyone else forgot you.” Bucky said softly. “Sam too. I asked him if he’d heard anything about you about 6 months ago and he couldn’t remember you.” Bucky said softly. “I’m in room 506, come find me after this is over and talk. For now, go grab me a popsicle.” 

Peter stood and did what he was told. He held up a few and looked back over at Bucky.

“The blue one.” Bucky said softly. Peter nodded and brought it over. He sat down next to Bucky.

“Why isn’t Sam here?” Peter asked softly.

“He doesn’t know I’m here either, and you’d better keep quiet about it.” Bucky said softly. “I don’t want to be a burden for him. Or you either really, but I guess that ship has sailed.” 

“You’re not.” Peter said softly. “A burden, I mean.” 

“Real reassuring.” Bucky laughed a little.

“Why are you here?” Peter asked barely above a whisper.

“Stomach cancer.” Bucky said softly. “I guess I’ve had it for, a while, but it was just overlooked whenever I had been at a doctor's appointment.” Bucky took a deep breath. “Dr. Banner found it, but he’s not an oncologist, so he sent me here. He’s the only other person who knows about it.” 

“Is this, like, going well?” Peter asked. 

As if on queue, Bucky took the question as an opportunity to throw up, everywhere, faster than Peter could register what was going on. It was bright blue, influenced by the popsicle in case you were looking for a visual. Peter pressed the nurse button, and Mabel came back in.

“Oh, James, I’m so sorry. Here, let’s get you cleaned up and I’ll get some extra Zofran into you.” Mabel said softly. She rubbed his back and then looked at Peter, who took her queue and started rubbing his back while Mabel cleaned Bucky up. Peter took note of the feeling of Bucky's ribs and spine behind his shirt. 

Bucky's treatment lasted for two hours, until the end of Peter's shift. Peter talked to the other patients who came in periodically, and made friends the way he was expected to. Then he went and got himself cleaned up, and headed to room 506. 

Mabel saw him on the way. 

“I’m going to go and hang out with James for a little bit, my shift is over, I just have a feeling he needs someone.” Peter said, lying.

“Oh I’m so glad, I had a feeling you would get along well with him! I’m impressed, he’s very quiet and it’s cool that you were able to get a connection with him.” Mabel said happily. Peter continued walking to Bucky's room.

He walked in, and Bucky was asleep, looking as sick as ever. He woke up at the sound of the door opening, which Peter quickly shut. He sat down in the chair next to Bucky’s bed, and really took in just how shitty Bucky looked. His hair was gone, even down to his eyebrows, and his face was sunken in, cheekbones prominent. He looked skeletal.

“Dr. Strange cast a spell to make everyone forget who I was, and it was mostly my fault, because a bunch of villains from other universes were coming through, and then Thanos came through, and the only way to fix it was to make everyone forget who I was.” Peter said softly.

“In Wakanda they made it so that I couldn’t be controlled anymore, and they honestly might have made me immune to his spell, considering it was pretty close to mind control.” Bucky said softly.

“Oh that makes sense.” Peter said softly. Deep down, even though he hated that Bucky was in the circumstance, he was kind of glad he wasn’t alone anymore, even though that was probably shitty of him to think.

Bucky just nodded.

“My aunt died in the process, and I’ve been alone since, but I thought I might feel like I had some sort of purpose again if I did something important with my life, and I guess I thought I’d feel closer to her if I came here, because she used to work here.” Peter explained.

“I understand. I thought being around Sam would feel the same as being around Steve, because he had the shield.” Bucky said softly. “I’m really sorry about your aunt though. You’ve lost a lot of people who were important to you and that has to be pretty tough.”

“When you said the cancer had been around for a while, did you mean since you were you know, with Hydra?” Peter asked. Bucky nodded.

“I didn’t know about it, but they had it documented as early as the 90’s, and I guess they just put me on cryo instead of treating it, not that there were a lot of treatment options back then.” Bucky said simply.

“Can I ask you another question?” Peter asked. Bucky nodded with a little smile.

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly.

“The anti nausea stuff doesn’t work on you because of the serum does it?” Peter asked. Bucky shook his head. 

“Nope.” Bucky said softly. “Mabel tries her best though, and I appreciate that. They know I’m enhanced, and Fury made sure they kept that private, but they haven’t found a way to fix the nausea. The cancer seems to be getting better though. My scans have been good.” 

“That’s good.” Peter said, nodding his head. “I’ll do some rear h and see if I can find a way to control the nausea for you. It looks pretty brutal.” 

“You’re not a doctor kid.” Bucky smiled softly.

“But I do still have access to Tony’s database, and he was pretty smart. He used to over analyze everything and try to prepare for every situation, and I’m sure he probably considered that kind of stuff like pain pills and nausea stuff that would work for you and Steve and me.” Peter said softly. 

“Fair point. Thanks kid.” Bucky said softly. “I’d really appreciate that, more than you could ever understand.”

“You’re welcome, Bucky.” Peter said softly. “Is there anything else I could help you with or anyone I could call?”

“You’d better not be suggesting I call Sam.” Bucky said firmly. “He’s got a life Peter, and he has stuff to do as Captain America.” 

“Is Steve still around?” Peter asked softly. He knew Steve had come back, looking like the crypt keeper, but he wasn’t sure if he was still around.

“He died a few weeks before I found out I was sick.” Bucky said softly. 

He watched as Bucky's face pinched a little bit, and for a moment Peter was worried he was going to throw up again, because he didn’t know where the buckets were here. Instead he placed a small trash can in Bucky’s lap. Bucky laughed a little and shook his head. Peter put the trash can back on the ground and softly rested his hand on top of Buckys, unsure of what was going on but doing his best to offer comfort.

“Are you alright Mr. Barnes?” Peter asked softly.

“Yeah, I’m okay kid. It was a false alarm. It’s just kinda nice to not be alone anymore.” Bucky said softly. “Even though it’s you of all people I’m stuck with.” He teased. Peter laughed.

“It’s okay Mr. Barnes, I understand, and it’s okay. Maybe we can be alone, together?” Peter suggested. Bucky laughed harder than he had in months.

They were on the same page.

And they weren’t alone.

Chapter Text

Peter went back to his apartment that night and grabbed his suit. He was thankful that the AI hadn’t seemed to have forgotten him during Strange’s spell. He put the suit on for the first time in a long time and sat on the edge of his bed.

“Good evening Mr. Parker, how can I help you?” Karen asked politely.

“Hey Karen, did Mr. Stark ever do research on any medications to help people with advanced healing, like pain medications or anti nausea stuff?” Peter asked politely as if the robot cared about politeness.

“He did, he found success in the research with Steven Rogers, in an effort to find something to help you if you ever got sick. Are you okay Peter?” Karen asked.

“Yeah. I’m okay, I know it’s been a while, but since everything happened, Bucky Barnes has gotten cancer, and I’m trying to find something that can help him feel better, with the side effects from his treatments.” Peter said softly even though no one was anywhere near him to be listening. 

“In his research Mr. Stark was unable to find a medication to cure nausea although he found that a large dose of Percocet worked well to treat pain.” Karen said softly. “I can connect with the Jarvis interface to try and find a solution for Mr. Barnes if you’d like.” 

“But Pepper can’t know.” Peter said softly. “She doesn’t remember me and she will think there’s been a data breach and I don’t want to stress her out.” Peter insisted.

“Okay Peter, I can contact Jarvis while utilizing the Tip Toe protocol.” Karen said. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

“Can you tell me where Steve Rogers is buried?” Peter asked quietly.

“There is a monument in Arlington National Cemetery next to where Peggy Carter is buried, however contrary to public knowledge Mr. Rogers is actually buried in Queens.” Karen said stating the facts. 

“Thank you Karen.” Peter said softly. “Can you also find some research on other things that might make Mr. Barnes feel better?”

“I’ll also do research on chemotherapy side effect remedies.” Karen said kindly.

“Thanks Karen.” Peter said softly.

“You’re welcome Peter, get some sleep, I can tell you’re more stressed out than usual.” Karen suggested. “Should I notify Mr. Wilson of Mr. Barnes’ condition? He is listed in my files as Mr. Barnes’ current emergency contact.” 

“No thank you Karen.” Peter said softly, even though he felt insanely guilty that Sam wasn’t aware that Bucky was sick let alone that he had cancer and couldn't even walk by himself. He also in a way felt it was kind of selfish for Bucky to decide not to tell Sam, because he knew Sam would want to be there for him, and Sam had the right to have a say in how their friendship went too.

Peter went to sleep, ready to go back to the hospital the next morning. He knew Bucky was receiving treatment again today. He was on a treatment schedule where he would receive chemotherapy Monday through Friday and then take a two day break on the weekend in order to recover ever so slightly only to be torn down again over the next several days of chemotherapy.

He woke up, and made himself breakfast before putting on comfortable clothing and heading out the door. On his way to the hospital he stopped by Target, where he got a bag of hard ginger candies, some fuzzy socks and a weighted blanket. He walked into the hospital and greeted Mabel who directed him back up to the infusion room for the day.

“Peter, do you know Mr. Barnes personally?” Mabel asked quietly as they rode the elevator upstairs. Peter simply nodded.

“We were coworkers at Stark Industries.” Peter said, only somewhat lying. Mabel looked at him and raised her eyebrow.

“Alright, I see what you probably mean by saying that. I’m just glad he’s not alone while going through all of this. If you have any connections, maybe consider notifying whatever is left of the avengers, because James is too stubborn to do so himself.” Mabel said, Peter nodded.

“There aren’t many people left.” Peter said softly. “But please don’t tell anyone I said that, I probably shouldn’t have said that.” 

“May’s nephew was Spider-Man. I remember her telling me that. Is that you?” Mabel asked. 

“I can’t tell you, I’m sorry.” Peter said softly. Mabel hugged him. “That’s about as close to a yes as can be. I won’t tell anyone. God knows I owed your aunt more than a few favors.” Mabel winked. “I must say though, I can absolutely see James being a big fan of those fuzzy cat socks.”

“I knew he’d like them.” Peter said proudly.

“You will probably want to go give those things to him before you go into the lounge today. His treatment isn’t for a couple hours today.”

“I thought he had his first thing?” Peter asked.

“He had a minor setback this morning, but he’s okay now. I bet he’ll be happy to see a familiar face today.” Mabel said softly.

As it turned out, Bucky had had a panic attack that morning. He had had them a few times since starting treatment, the chemo triggered his ptsd from Hydra, because the side effects weren’t too different from the side effects of the drugs Hydra used to test on him. It mostly happened when they started a new treatment plan, that he hadn’t gotten used to yet. 

This time it had been the side effects that triggered his ptsd. He’d been up vomiting after he had eaten breakfast that morning, and he just freaked out. Soon enough he was in his bed, vomiting everywhere, so tired that he couldn’t even sit up in bed, and between not being able to move, and being sick, he panicked, hyperventilating until one of the nurses noticed his heart rate was elevated. They’d postponed his treatment a couple hours to give him time to calm down and get some rest. It’s not like him being anxious would have any effect on the medications, but there was no point in putting him through something like that before he had the chance to calm down. 

Peter had ended up in his room about ten minutes after Bucky had stopped crying. His face had still been red and swollen. Bucky looked vaguely upset that Peter was seeing him that way, but he also just didn’t have it in him to care about what was happening. Peter walked in gently, if that makes sense. He wasn’t loud, and he didn’t automatically greet Bucky, he just set the bag of gifts on the edge of his bed, walked her and hugged him.

“I’m sorry today didn’t start out too good, I did some research and found some things that might help you, I hope they help you. I’ll see you later.” Peter said softly hugging Bucky even though he wasn’t hugging him back, until he was, and Bucky's arms wrapped around Peter even tighter.

“Thank you.” Bucky said softly. Peter nodded and pulled away, opening the bag to show him what he had gotten.

“I did some research, and the places I saw mentioned that hard ginger candies might make you feel better, and they’re pretty old fashioned so I thought maybe it would have twice the positive impact.” Peter said softly. Bucky laughed a little. He was a thoughtful kid. “And I saw that a weighted blanket might help with your anxiety, I hope that wasn’t overstepping, and you were pretty cold yesterday so I think it’ll keep you warm too, but I also got you these socks, they only had womens fluffy socks so I hope you don’t mind the cats on them, I can try and find you a cooler pair, maybe frogs would look less dumb?” Peter rambled.

“This is great Peter, it’s really thoughtful and I really appreciate that you cared enough to do something this nice even though you absolutely didn’t have to do anything for me.” Bucky said softly. “I’ll see you later, kid, and I’ll even wear the socks. They look great.” 

So Peter followed Mabel back to the infusion room, less worried about Bucky than he had been before, but still worried nonetheless. Mabel stopped him before they entered the infusion room.

“I really think having you around will give him the strength he needs to keep fighting.” She said simply. Peter nodded, still unsure of if he was capable of providing the support Bucky obviously needed, then he entered the infusion room, which as previously mentioned is not far off from a torture chamber but in a completely legal medical sense of the term.

There were new faces in the room today. Joy was on her break day, as she only received chemo twice a week. The first person Peter sat with was a younger guy named Carter, who Peter knew just by looking at him was even younger than he was. He looked barely 18, and Peter assumed he had simply aged out of being able to be treated at the children's hospital. Peter sat down next to him and did his best to be a friend. He got to know him, found out that he had just recently graduated high school and was in college, on a scholarship to play soccer, but that his hip had been hurting him and his coach had told him to go to the doctor, where he found out he had osteosarcoma of all things. Soccer career down the drain. He explained that when he had first gotten sick a little over a year before, his teammates had made a point to make him feel included, but that he felt like everyone had since forgotten about him. He asked if Peter had any friends and Peter was honest. He didn’t really have friends anymore. He didn’t go into the details as to why. He had in fact already told Mabel far too much earlier in the elevator. So he just left it at the simple fact that no, he didn’t have any friends.

He wondered if breaking his promise to Ned and MJ and not telling them after the spell was actually kind of similar to what Bucky was doing with Sam. They both had similar intentions of not wanting the people they care about to get hurt anymore, the hurt Peter referenced being of a physical nature while the hurt Bucky was trying to avoid causing Sam was more emotional. Bucky was taking away Sam's opportunity to be there for him just as much as Peter had taken the opportunity away from Ned and MJ. 

It was in fact the literal same intention with the same hoped for result of saving the feelings of others. Knowing it was the same didn’t make Peter want to tell Ned or MJ any more than it made him want to call and tell Sam what was going on. Neither was necessary, and he didn’t feel he had the right to say either thing. Ned and MJ had moved on, and he felt it would almost be cruel to bring them back into his mess after this long. As for Sam, Bucky’s health wasn’t Peter’s secret to tell.

A woman came in next, she was coming in as an outpatient, meaning that she got to stay at home and only had to come into the hospital for treatments and other various appointments. Peter made friends with her too of course. She told him about her wife and about the kids they were fostering together, and how determined she was to beat her cancer so that she could get back to them. Peter sat in the room and thought. He’d seen a lot of battles in life, many of which to save the world, many of which winning had come at the cost of people he cared a lot about, but these people were fighting even harder than the Avengers had ever fought, just trying to stay alive.

And Bucky, Peter thought about just how shitty it was that after everything he had dealt with in life he was now in the depths of cancer treatment. He’d been captured and tortured by Hydra and they had him controlled enough that he hadn’t even noticed he was sick back then. He had no idea that he had stomach cancer and assumed Hydra had been putting him under cryo so frequently as a punishment, not knowing they were also trying to preserve him and Hager what they wanted from him before the cancer killed him which it would have done back then. Peter also really hated that Steve wasn’t there. He understood why Steve chose to go back to Peggy, but he also hated that Bucky didn’t have his best friend with him to be going through this sort of thing. It simply was not fair. But then again life wasn’t really fair to anyone.

Peter made himself less obvious that day. He spent equal time with each of the patients, he played board games with an old man who was there with liver cancer, and he painted a girl's toenails, who was only a month younger than he was. He hung out with Bucky too, and made sure to complement the fuzzy cat socks. Bucky had smiled at him. In that moment Bucky understood just what everyone saw in Peter Parker. He was in many ways more of a hero than Spider-Man.

Peter went to Bucky's room after his shift was over, and Bucky waved at him when he walked in.

“The weighted blanket really helped. Thank you.” Bucky says softly.

“I’m glad! I was really hoping it would. What about the candies?” Peter asked. 

“Not so much, but I appreciate the effort.” Bucky said honestly, knowing that if he told Peter it helped, which again, it didn’t, Peter would be bringing him a lifetime supply of the candies. Peter looked vaguely defeated and Bucky almost felt bad for not lying. He could tell Peter really wanted to save him, even though they both knew full well that he couldn’t. “Thanks though Pete, I know you tried and it means a lot.” 

“Do you wish Steve was here?” Peter asked out of the blue. Bucky took a deep breath. It was kind of a shitty and thoughtless question to ask, and if anyone else had been asking Bucky probably would have hit him with his metal arm, but he knew Peter had good intentions, and beside that he hadn’t been wearing the arm for almost 4 months, because it had become too heavy for his weakened body to hold up. It hurt, so he took it off, and had Bruce stash it at his apartment in Brooklyn.

“Yeah.” Bucky said softly. “I guess, it would be nice. I try not to think about it much. He would have mother-henned the hell out of me.” Bucky laughed. “You wish Stark was here? I remember you guys had a pretty cool bond.” Bucky knew that him asking Peter that was a low blow. 

“Yeah. I miss him a lot. I feel like he would have been able to fix all the messes I’ve made since he died and I wouldn’t have ever had to worry about not getting into MIT, because he would have made sure I got in.” Peter said truthfully.

“Kid, don't tell me that whole mess with you and Strange and the other universes started because you didn’t get into college.” Bucky laughed. Peter nodded.

“Yeah, at the core of it, if I had just given up on college, or had the thought to ask Pepper to pull some strings none of this would have happened and May would still be alive.” Peter said, admitting something he hadn’t previously realized.

Bucky took a deep breath, feeling bad for having asked Peter about Stark, making him feel guilt he really didn’t need to feel.

“I’m sorry kid, I shouldn’t have said anything and I hope you don't feel guilty about it all. It wasn’t your fault. None of it.” Bucky said softly. Peter shrugged. 

“It definitely was my fault. But I’ve forgiven myself I think.” Peter said softly. Bucky took another deep breath, and kept going with the streak of asking personal questions.

“How did you find out you were sick?” Peter asked. Bucky took another deep breath.

“Sam and I defeated the Flag Smashers, and everything was going fine, and then on the day of Steve’s funeral I started throwing up blood. I didn’t think anything of it because I wrote it off as stress and grief, which I know was stupid, but I kept doing it for a few weeks until I finally went to Bruce on the down low.” 

“Does it hurt?” Peter asked.

“The treatment hurts more than the cancer did, but it’s working and it’s not like I’m not used to being in a little pain every now and then.” Bucky said genuinely. He liked being around Peter, he reminded him a lot of hanging out with his sister Becca, back before the war. It felt nice.

“Why do you stay here instead of going back to your apartment every night?” Peter asked.

“Right now I’m in really strong treatments, so I have to be monitored to make sure my blood pressure and heart rate is okay. In a few weeks I’ll go back to a maintenance grade chemo and I’ll be able to go home maybe.” Bucky explained gently.

“You can come back to my place if you want, when you can, for the first little bit.” Peter offered.

“I don’t want to impose on you, kid.” Bucky laughed.

“You wouldn’t be. I don’t like, have a spare room or anything, but I’d be happy to sleep on the couch.” Peter offered sincerely.

“You don’t have to do that for me Peter. I’ll be okay.” Bucky smiled.

A part of Peter wondered why Bucky even cared enough about living to want to fight so hard. Steve was gone, everyone Bucky had grown up caring about was dead of old age or whatever. Peter wasn’t so sure what Bucky could have possibly found to live for. Peter himself had contemplated dying one way or another ever since May had died.

Peter wondered if maybe hanging around Bucky would help him find a reason to want to fight for living too.

Chapter Text

Prior to finding Bucky at the hospital Peter had spent his weekends chilling like a normal young person. He binged Netflix, and read books and went for normal walks in Central Park where he made a point to read the plaques on the benches, and wonder what the people were like who had plaques dedicated to them. He’d found celebrity benches, like the bench for Micheal J. Fox, who played Marty McFly in Back to The Future, which could be found at the conservatory garden if you took the stairs to the shaded overlook. It was the third bench on the left, and was dedicated to him and his dog, who is dead now. But the number of benches dedicated to seemingly regular people far outnumbered the benches for famous people. Regular people who had gotten a bench to celebrate an anniversary or a birthday. Regular people who lived normal lives and never got recognition for anything with the exception of a bench in the greatest park in the world.

But Peter doesn’t spend as much of his weekends at the park anymore. Now he finds himself at the hospital, outside of his volunteer hours hanging out with Bucky. It’s also not like he doesn’t have anything better to be doing on a Saturday. He absolutely could have done his laundry, or vacuumed his apartment, but now that he knows Bucky is there at the hospital he can’t stand the idea of him being there alone. 

It’s also not like he and Bucky had ever been friends. The first time Peter had met him, he had kicked Bucky's ass, or at least he liked to think so. They’d never really talked even after that, not that there were a lot of opportunities, and Peter hadn’t been in the mood to talk to anyone at Tony’s funeral aside from Morgan. He vaguely remembered that Bucky was next to Steve, when Steve hugged Peter and told him how sorry he was for his loss and gave unwarranted advice and sympathy, Bucky had nodded at Peter. And that was the end of it. Peter hadn’t gone to Steve’s funeral, which was shitty if you ignored the context that at the time he had been in Europe. It wasn’t like no one within the Avengers  knew Steve was going to die. But dying of old age isn’t quite so predictable.

Peter had gone and seen Steve a few weeks before he went to Europe. Bucky had been there at the time, but he was in the living room when Peter was talking to Steve in his room. 

He and Steve talked about Tony. Steve told him that during the snap, he and Tony had done their best to look past their differences once they realized how damn stupid their fight was, but that things had never really been the same because at the core of it all, Steve had been a shitty friend to Tony. And while their political influences were forgivable, the things that happened in Siberia weren’t something Tony could forgive Steve for, and Steve understood that.

Peter had told Steve about the places he was looking forward to seeing in Europe, Steve recommended a few places to check out, and told Peter to take the time there to enjoy being a kid. Steve had actually been the one to suggest he leave his suit at home, so that he could just be a normal kid for a couple of weeks. 

Of course that hadn’t happened. 

Now, Peter found himself once again debating whether he should call and tell Sam what was going on, knowing it would probably make Bucky mad. He came to the conclusion that if things got worse, he would call Sam. He wasn’t sure how he would go about explaining why he had forgotten him but he also felt that Sam wouldn’t care about that firsthand, he’d have to explain it eventually, sure, but he knew that in the moment Bucky would be the first priority.

He got up on Saturday morning, and went to the hospital because no matter what way he looked at it, being around Bucky was simply more important than binging Netflix, and his laundry could wait. It wasn’t that Bucky wasn’t capable of surviving alone, it was that just because he could go through the treatments alone surely didn’t mean he had to. 

In the same sense, Peter also respected Bucky's boundaries. If he had asked him to leave, he would have. If he had asked him not to come ever again, he wouldn’t have come again. But Peter thought about the times May had told him about the things she had seen people go through during cancer treatment. Peter remembered hearing the stories and feeling bad for the people, and knowing that it was Bucky in that position he had heard nightmarish stories about truthfully made him care more. You never really understand just how bad it can be until it’s either you or someone you care deeply about going through it. You find out about little torturous details that never seem to be mentioned on tv or in movies, like the ulcers, or the fact that your fingernails can fall of as a result of chemo, or how sometimes the side effects of chemo are what kill people even faster than even the most invasive cancer can.

Peter and Bucky were in similar positions. Peter had no friends because everyone in the world had forgotten him, and he had broken a promise to go back to them because he didn’t want to hurt them anymore. Bucky had Steve, and then Steve died. He got Sam, and then he got cancer, so he left, because he didn’t want to be a burden. He didn’t want to hurt him.

It was the same thing, in a way, even if you maybe had to squint to see it that way, Peter thought. And maybe deep down they were both in the wrong in both situations. Peter broke a promise he made with his friends, and what Bucky was doing trying to save Sam from hurting would inevitably cause a lot of pain for Sam as soon as he found out. Maybe more pain than he would have experienced in being there in the first place. 

Peter walked into the hospital and took the elevator to the floor which currently housed Bucky Barnes. He knocked on the door, like the polite human May raised him to be, and waited for Bucky to answer before going inside.

Bucky laughed when he saw Peter walk through the door.

“Kid, I really don’t need a babysitter.” Bucky said softly, as he sat up in his bed.

“True, I’m not saying you do, but you do definitely need a friend.” Peter insisted softly. “I know maybe you don’t want a friend, and if that’s the way it is you can tell me and I won’t be upset, but I was thinking that maybe you would enjoy going to Central Park, maybe just to get outside for a little while, and have a hotdog if you want.” Peter suggested. Bucky laughed a little.

“I’m not really up for a long walk today, kid.” Bucky said softly. Peter shrugged it off.

“Oh I figured we’d bring a wheelchair for you.” Peter said truthfully. “And one good thing about everyone forgetting me is no one will recognize me, and well, you don’t really look like yourself right now so I would be shocked if anyone recognized you.” 

“Real confidence booster there kid.” Bucky laughed, he ran his hand over his bald head. “I’d enjoy that. I think.” 

So Peter went to the nurses station, and got what was necessary to take Bucky on a fieldtrip. He promised Mabel they would only be gone an hour or so, he was in fact aware that it wasn’t necessarily safe for Bucky to spend a day out, and that he wouldn’t have the energy to do so in the first place. He promised they’d both wear surgical grade face masks, to prevent either of them getting sick. Mabel gave him the wheelchair to bring to Bucky’s room, and then she hugged him.

“I’m glad he’s got a friend. He’s been alone for a long time, and I really think having you around is going to help him. Make sure he wears a coat. And have fun, if anything goes wrong you’ve got my number, unless it warrants an ambulance.” Mabel said, pushing the wheelchair into Bucky's room. “Behave yourself.” She said, winking at Bucky.

And so, they made their escape.

Peter got an Uber, and was surprised at how much more time it took to find one that could keep a wheelchair in the trunk for them. He almost gave up before they finally booked a ride. Peter pushed Bucky's wheelchair outside and Bucky took a deep breath of fresh air even through the mask. Even without a destination, Bucky would have been more than happy just to be able to spend twenty seconds outside. They made it to the park, and found a shaded bench under a tree.

“Steve and I used to come here. It was nice coming here after, knowing that even though a lot of the city was unrecognizable Central Park still felt sort of the same. The trees had grown, and they’d definitely made a hell of a lot of valuable improvements in 70 years, but it still felt like our park.” Bucky explained. Peter nodded. It was the most Peter had heard Bucky talk about Steve.

“What was he like before he was Captain America?” Peter asked, Bucky smiled, closed mouth and looked down at his lap, and then across the park to the nearby garden.

“He was a lot like you. Small, physically, but internally a giant.” Bucky laughed and shook his head a little. “He loved picking fights, even the ones he knew deep down he couldn’t win, and he never did anything halfway.” Bucky took another breath. “I think the thing to consider is that his serum only really changed who he was on the outside. But at his core he was always the same, really good guy. Just as much of a hero before capas after. That’s how you are.” 

“Did he ever tell you about what it was like during the blip?” Peter asked.

“A little. Are you asking more about him and Tony?” Bucky clarified. Peter nodded. Of course he was, he didn’t particularly care for the details of the group therapy sessions he led during the blip. “He told me they made things better, obviously not the same as before, but I know Steve told me he was at the hospital in the waiting room when Morgan was born, so that has to count for something.” Bucky shrugged. “I know Steve apologized for everything.” Bucky said with a breath.

“Was it hard knowing you couldn’t apologize to him?” Peter asked with the best of intentions.

“I had this list of amends I was trying to make at the recommendation of my therapist, and I remember getting through all the names and feeling pretty bad that I couldn’t apologize for what I did to him, and I talked to Steve about how it was making me feel, the closest I could get was talking to Pepper, and so I did.” Bucky said softly, “I wish I could have apologized to him, but I couldn’t, and in reality I don’t even know if he would have accepted the apology.” Bucky laughed slightly nervously.

“When I talked to him about it, before the blip, he wasn’t mad anymore. I think he realized that he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did if they hadn't died, and he eventually figured out you weren’t really to blame because you weren’t in control of yourself.” Peter rambled, Bucky nodded, and Peter didn’t acknowledge the tear he saw slip down Bucky's cheek.

They stayed for a few more minutes in silence before they went and got a hotdog from a cart on the sidewalk. Nathan’s of course, which had sentimental value even though Bucky didn’t even take a bite, because he had started to feel ill. He was nauseous and his stomach was hurting. While he agreed they needed to go back to the hospital he declined the offer of ambulance transportation, opting for Uber based on a cost standpoint rather than a logical standpoint. And so, Peter got on his phone and got an Uber to take them back to the hospital. He sat in the backseat and looked over at Bucky, just in time to watch as he started to throw up blood. Peter looked at the Uber driver, and Bucky apologized over and over again, as Peter begged the Uber driver to drive back to the hospital as quickly as possible. The driver got them to the hospital, speeding the whole way through as he cut in and out of traffic, while Peter texted Mabel to meet them at the entrance.

Peter rubbed Bucky's back, and said nothing because there was nothing he could say to make the situation better. 

Mabel met them at the front, and Bucky was quickly taken inside the hospital. Peter grabbed his phone once again.

Hi, Sam I know you don’t remember me, I’m Spider-Man, I’m at the hospital right now with Bucky, he’s really sick, and I know you’re busy and I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I really think you need to come as soon as possible.

I’ll be there in an hour, thanks Spider-Boy. Is he alright?

No.

What’s wrong with him?

It’s not right for me to tell you through a text message, please just get here as soon as you can.

Chapter Text

Sam walked into the hospital waiting room an hour after Peter had texted him, wearing normal street clothes so as to not attract any more attention than necessary. He had been at headquarters, talking with the government about, I don’t know, government stuff, and had been quick to make his way to the hospital as quickly as possible, mindful of the New York City traffic. He walked in, Peter met his gaze in the waiting room. Bucky was still in surgery as the doctors repaired a tear in his stomach, which had allowed his stomach acids to leak into his abdomen. He was going to be okay, according to the doctors that Peter had been pestering for an update. Sam walked over to Peter and sat next to him. Sam had tracked Peters phone, knowing it was he who had texted him previously.

“You ready to tell me what the hell is going on?” Sam asked casually. Peter took a deep breath. “And why no one bothered to keep me in the loop until it was an emergency?”

“He has cancer.” Peter said softly. He watched as Sam’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know until last week, when I started volunteering here. He recognized me, no one else remembers me because of a spell Dr. Strange cast. I’ve been with him pretty much constantly the last week, and he made me promise not to tell you, but I broke that promise because it seemed like the right thing to do. I know this is a lot of information to lay on you all at once, and I’m sorry about that, but he’s really sick, he’s in surgery right now because his stomach tore, and the doctors said he’s going to be fine, but I felt like you needed to know what was happening.” 

“What kind of cancer?” Sam asked calmly. He didn’t make eye contact with Peter.

“It's in his stomach. From what I understand he’s taking to the treatments pretty well.” Peter said, trying to bring a positive essence into the terrible situation.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Sam asked. Peter took a deep breath. He knew why Bucky had chosen not to tell Sam what was happening to him, but he also knew that Peter had already crossed a boundary regarding spilling Bucky's initial secret. “I won’t tell him you told me why, and I’ll ask him, but just tell me, in case it’s something stupid so that I can prepare myself to be able to react to him and not call him an idiot.” 

“He didn’t want to hurt you.” Peter said softly.

“Yeah that sounds like some shit he would think.” Sam said, running his palm over his face. “Thanks for telling me, kid.” 

Mabel came into the waiting room, and nodded at Peter and Sam before walking over to them. “He’s out of surgery. It was just a complication from his treatments. He will be okay, although we will have to stop treatment until his stomach has healed from the operation in order to prevent this from happening again.” She took a deep breath looking over at Sam. “I’m glad you’re here.” She said softly. “I wanted to call you, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t risk losing his trust.”

“I understand.” Sam said with a nod. “He’s a stubborn son of a bitch. Is he going to be mad that I’m here now?” 

“He was asking for you before we put him down for the surgery.” Mabel admits softly. It breaks Sam’a heart a little. 

“Well shit, I hope he’s prepared for a new roommate.” Sam said softly. “Because I’m not leaving him ever again.”

“I think that’s why he didn’t tell you, because he knew you’d put everything else in your life on hold.” Peter said softly.

“No, I know how to prioritize. If there’s a risk of aliens or wizards I’ll leave him, but anything else can be handled by someone else until he’s alright.” Sam insisted. “Can I see him?” 

“Right now he’s in recovery, and I can only allow one of you in at a time.” Mabel said softly looking between the two of them.

“You go, you’ve got some catching up to do.” Peter said softly. Sam laughed a little. He followed Mabel to Bucky's room, and she patted his shoulder before he went inside. He was shocked when he saw Bucky, who was still asleep in the bed. There were wires and tubes everywhere, and an oxygen tube in his nose from the surgery. He was skinny, and Sam wouldn’t have been surprised to know that at that point, his nephews weighed more than Bucky did. His hair was gone, everywhere, even his eyebrows and eyelashes. He looked mostly dead, and if it weren’t for the constant beep of the heart monitor Sam would have thought he was.

Sam walked over and looked at Bucky for a moment longer before sitting down. It’s not that Sam was afraid of Bucky, but Sam was certainly afraid, and had a hard time believing that the person in the bed in front of him was the same person he had seen months before, fought alongside the Flag Smashers, the same person who had been best friends with Steve, and had become his best friend too. 

Sam also wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t know how long it would take Bucky to wake up, and he didn’t know how to explain why he had been there. He wasn’t sure if he should lie and say that Mabel had called him, because technically Bucky had asked her to, or if he should tell the truth, that Peter had been the one to call him. He sat there wishing there was a way to get Steve back from the dead because if Bucky needed anyone in this situation, it was certainly Steve, and definitely not him. Sam felt absolutely useless. He’d had a teacher in school who had had cancer, and it killed her, and Sam remembered how scary that had been, seeing her at her funeral and not even recognizing her, and now here he was with Bucky and he looked a lot like she had when she was dead in that casket-

His thoughts were cut short as he watched Bucky begin to stir. Sam took a deep breath, did his best to compose himself, and grabbed Bucky’s hand instinctively. He wasn’t sure what holding his hand would fix or if it would make Bucky uncomfortable, but he did it, touching him brought him to the reality of the situation, that this was Bucky, and it didn’t matter if Sam didn’t know what to do, he just needed to be here.

Bucky opened his eyes and looked over at Aam. He laughed, upon seeing Sam, which Sam definitely didn’t expect amongst the list of possible reactions to his presence that Sam had worried himself into compiling.

“Hey.” Sam said with another laugh. Bucky took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky said softly.

“Oh believe me, you definitely should be.” Sam said truthfully. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” Bucky admitted. “I didn’t want to be a burden.”

That - was only part of the real truth.

“Makes me wonder what kind of person you think I am if you really thought I would have been bothered by helping you, or why you would have rather gone through this yourself than letting me be here. I would have been here.” Sam takes a deep breath, realizing that now is not the time to try and guilt trip Bucky, and that him doing so is wrong in every sense of the word.

“When they told me just how bad it was, I wanted to tell you, I didn’t want to be alone, but then I decided that after everything I’ve done in life I deserved to be sick. And I didn't think I deserved to be comforted during any of it, because I’d never allowed any of the people I have killed any sort of comfort.” Bucky took a deep, shuddered, breath. “I felt like I deserved to be sick, and I deserved to have to suffer alone.” 

That - was the whole truth.

Sam didn’t know how to react to what he had been told. “What if you had died? Did you just figure I’d never find out, or that I’d find out on the news?” Sam asked genuinely.

“I didn’t think I had any chance of dying. The doctors never said I did, so I just figured I’d handle this myself.” Bucky said softly.

“So you were just going to roll back up at my place once your hair had grown back?” Sam tried not to laugh.

“Yeah.” Bucky admitted softly.

“Well I’m here now and I’m not about to let you suffer alone any longer. What have I missed?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

So Bucky told him everything. He told him about the diagnosis, about the treatments and the side effects, about how it felt to lose his hair, and to be so weak he had to take off his arm because he didn’t have the strength to support the extra weight of vibranium. He told him about Peter coming around, and how his aunt had died and Stephen had cast a spell to make everyone forget him in order to avoid having to deal with Thanos when the Avengers were, understaffed, to say the least. He told him about what a damn good kid Peter was, and that he had barely left his side since he had found him. He told him that Peter had taken him to Central Park, which is where he had gotten more sick, and that he was worried Peter would be blaming himself for everything that had happened that day.

“Are you in pain?” Sam asked him.

“No.” Bucky said softly. Sam knew it was a lie.

“Does anyone else on the team know?” Sam asked, preparing himself not to be jealous of the answer was yes.

Bucky nodded. “Bruce has a vague idea, but I haven’t talked to him in a while.” 

“He’s been on Asguard for a couple months.” Sam said.

“That makes sense.” Bucky admitted.

“I wish you had told me in the beginning.” Sam said. “And I hope at some point you’ll accept the fact that you being sick isn’t punishment from the universe for bad behavior. You made amends remember?” Sam asked. Bucky shrugged. 

“Saying I’m sorry doesn’t change the things I did.” Bucky said softly. 

“I hope that at some point in your life you’ll be able to accept that it does. Maybe sorry doesn’t fix it, but knowing it wasn’t you does. You’ve got to figure out how to forgive yourself at some point.” Sam said caringly.

“Is Peter okay?” Bucky asked changing the subject in the process, which Sam noted.

“Yeah. I’ll go get him, but I hope you understand I am not leaving you again. I’ll sit right next to you.” Sam said firmly.

“You don’t need to waste your time babysitting me Sam, there’s a whole world out there for you to save.” Bucky tried.

“Yeah well it doesn’t need saving right now. I’ll make good use of my time and learn how to crochet some hats to cover that head of yours.” Sam teased. Bucky held out his arm and hugged him, not tightly, because he didn’t have the strength to do so, but Sam made up for it.

Sam went into the hallway and towards the nurses station, where he met up with Peter.

“He’s asking for you. Thank you for taking care of him. I’ll get in contact with your wizard and get him to fix the shit he messed up for you. God knows Strange owes you a few favors for saving the world.” Sam winked. Peter took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” Peter said softly.

“Although I’ve got to say that was pretty dirty of you to not give me a warning about how he was looking.” Sam said with a deep breath. “I thought I was in the wrong room at first.” Peter was ready to apologize, not having thought about preparing Sam for what Bucky was looking like, or what he knew he had been through, before he noticed as Sam wiped a tear from his eye. He was scared, and Peter understood why.

Peter hugged him.

“Until you’ve got your friends back, I’ll fill in and make sure you’re alright.” Sam said with a smile. “Someone has to stick around to make sure you’re acting enough.” Sam laughed and patted Peters back before Peter turned towards Bucky’s room.

Peter had messed some things up back when Tony was around, but he was glad to know that this time, he was able to fix something. He knew, deep down, that if Tony was kicking around somewhere Upstairs, he and May would be proud of him.

Chapter Text

It would be in the best interest of the ghost of Steve Rogers to avoid listening to the things Bucky thinks about him late at night.

Time which once would have been reserved for loving thoughts of Steve, for reminiscing while Steve laid in bed next to him, is now mostly filled with a mix of resentment and loneliness all directed at Steve.

Who is really really dead. As dead as can be.

The top of Bucky’s list of reasons to not tell anyone he was sick was the simple fact that none of them were Steve Rogers. Sam was great, and they had started to get along well after Steve had gone and turned himself into a Peggy Carter loving raisin, but Sam wasn’t Steve, and Bucky wanted Steve.

Bucky tried to act like he was happy for Steve, because he knew that acknowledging how absolutely not happy he was about having been abandoned by his lifelong best friend would make him look like a real asshole.

Nevertheless he wonders how differently his illness era would have been with Steve Rogers by his side. Sure, Steve would have mother hemmed the hell out of Bucky Barnes, but Bucky wouldn’t have minded. He’d always made an exception for Steve Rogers when it came to the idea of letting someone in, and letting Steve know how he truly felt about anything that was going on in his life. A fact which had been true since long before Steve had gone into the ice and Bucky had been Hydras go to chew toy.

The only person Bucky wants as he is sick and statistically most likely to die is the one person who can’t be there. And in the scheme of things, Bucky thinks it makes sense for Steve to be there. Bucky was there winter after winter when Steve was ill and surely, it should be Steve’s turn now to look out for Bucky. It’s Steve’s turn to worry about whether Bucky will make it through the night.

Things improve for Bucky Barnes for a little while. His body recovers fairly quickly from the surgery. Turns out his serum still kicks in from injuries but continues to turn a blind eye to his cancerous cells that are trying to take up residence within his body. Sam jokes once that he should start trying to charge the cells Brooklyn rent, which might scare them away. Peter is convinced that in this metaphor, the cells are convinced they only would need to pay Bucky the rent that would have been paid before the war, which in case you were curious is an average monthly cost of $3,194 today vs $49 a month in 1940. With inflation, if the rent costs had stayed the same would be $846.50. Who knows where New York is getting the justification for the other $2347.50, but Bucky blames the hipsters who decided to outrun the people who called Brooklyn home when Bucky had been there before the war. Bucky was under mind control when Brooklyn got expensive, and google research doesn’t lead any answers as to when the price jumped, but in 60 years, it got expensive point blank.

Given the cancer had been taking up residence for nearly 30 years, surely the cancer had gained squatters rights, which is why it had been so difficult to evict the cancer from his premises.

To his credit, Sam is a good man. And if Bucky can’t have Steve there, for obvious reasons, he’s glad Sam is there now, and wonders sometimes if this whole ordeal would have been easier if Bucky had allowed him to be there by his side sooner.

Sam’s there each morning as soon as visiting hours start. He’s there through long sessions of chemotherapy, he’s there when Buckys sick, which is always, but Sam’s there when he’s sicker than he normally is. He’s there to watch movies to try and take his mind off of things. And it’s not bad.

Peter however, is everything that even Steve could have never been in the situation. Peter doesn’t shy away from conversations, but he doesn’t pry either. Peter, being still pretty much a child, is fantastic at not following doctors directions and sneaking contraband food in for Bucky from outside the hospital. (Mabel knows Peter is doing it, but if a Nathan’s hot dog will convince Bucky to eat something, she’s not going to snitch.) Peter is also good at distracting Bucky with non medical talk, especially now that Sam is there to play the role of responsible adult.

Peter is enrolled in college and is quick to utilize Bucky for assistance in his history studies. While Peter certainly doesn’t need help with any form of studying, in reality history has always been his worst subject. Peter is more of a creative genius which is why he excels in science, and in inventing things, and he’s great with math and knowing how to figure out problems, but history is a whole lot of memorizing the past and knowing specific dates and who caused which war. Admittedly, Bucky only really remembers the history of the world before the war. The history which he spent as the winter soldier, is fuzzy, and not the kind of thing he has much of a desire to talk about.

Peter is also big on field trips. Especially now that he’s confident that taking Bucky out of the hospital for a day won’t have the same result that occurred when they went on their field trip to Central Park. Today, two days before Bucky is meant to start his next chemo cycle, Peter decides that he Bucky and Sam should go check out the Museum of Modern Art. The museum isn’t far from the hospital, and it’s hella accessible as far as Bucky's wheelchair goes, which is utilized more on Peters spontaneous field trips than it is at any other time.

Sam is the only one who has to make any effort in concealing his identity. No one remembers who Peter is, and it’s not like he’s going to roll up at the moma in his Spider-Man costume. And, Bucky doesn’t look recognizable with all the hair, weight and muscle mass he’s lost, and he doesn’t have his arm on. Sam wears the classic avengers disguise, of a Dodgers hat, with ray bans. No one will recognize him.

“Why are we going here again kid?” Sam asks after they get out of the hospital van that’s transported them to the museum in an accessible fashion.

“Bucky has never seen Starry night. And it’s his favorite.” Peter shrugs. Sam looks down at Bucky and shoots him a look. Bucky shakes his head.

“Alright, solid reason.” Sam laughs.

It’s hard to stay focused while walking through the museum of modern art, and trying to give every piece of art whether it’s a painting or sculpture is near impossible with the looming excitement of seeing Starry Night. The same issue arises for many people at the Louvre, in Paris, as they excitedly walk past sculptures from Michelangelo, in an effort to gaze upon the Mona Lisa.

Like many tourists, Sam, Bucky and Peter head straight for the fifth floor.

Many people complain about the fact that they can’t spend much time looking at the Mona Lisa in Paris because of all the people competing for her gaze, but this problem is avoided when gazing at the wonder of starry night. Unlike the Mona Lisa, there’s a convenient bench, so that you can look at the stars for as long as you’d like.

They sit and stare at the stars for over an hour in silence.

They look at the thickness of the paint, which can be most appreciated by standing to the side of the stars. They observe the way the lines change, and they don’t say a word.

Because there aren’t words to describe seeing the masterpiece in person.

Eventually, they leave their space on the bench in favor of looking around the rest of the museum, but it’s hard to focus on the rest of the art after having seen the stars.

“Thank you.” Bucky says, the first words any of them have spoken since seeing the painting. “Steve used to talk about that painting all the damn time, and I didn’t realize how close it was.”

What’s left of Steve Rogers in ghost form is there as they look at the painting. He’s always there, wherever Bucky is.

Til the end of the line.