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Bucky could hear the sound of glass cracking and Yelena’s gaze shot up to meet his from where he stood on the other end of the roof and, Widow training aside, her fear was visible in the slight widening of her eyes when she realized the skylight she was standing was about to drop her eight stories onto unforgiving concrete.
In that moment, he hated Val, hated her with an intensity reserved for the likes of Zola or Pierce or Zemo because he was so fucking tired of being another weapon in the government’s arsenal, of being told what to do, where to go, who to shoot.
He and Yelena hadn’t gotten off to the best of starts, especially with the added realization that the experiments done on him had contributed to her chemical subjugation for years; something that Val had no doubt known when she’d put this “team” together, no doubt to watch their confrontation with a small, smug smile.
They’d figured out her game quickly enough, too well trained to fall into that.
After that, he’d come to view her as a little sister of sorts.
Malyenkiy pauchok.
Little Spider.
She’d went still and turned to him with a dangerous glare the first time he’d used the nickname outside of his own head, and he’d expected her to throw the knife she’d slipped into her hand at his throat, catching the blade easily and smiling at her.
Her lips didn’t move out of their scowl, but there was humor buried in those hazel depths.
Now? Now there was only fear.
Fear of falling. Fear of dying.
No.
In a split-second moment of stupidity, he was running towards her, stepping onto the already weakened glass and practically throwing her clear just as glass gave way under his far more substantial weight and he plummeted.
Yelena’s cry was swallowed by the echoes of icy wind and snow, Bucky struggled to reorient himself, body clipping one of the rafters and sending him spinning anew, hands reaching for anything to slow his descent but failing to find one.
He hit the ground hard .
Bucky couldn’t bite back his cry of pain as something punched through his chest, vision whiting out for a split second before everything came into sharp focus and Bucky saw the large shard of metal sticking out just under his sternum.
The slightest movement sent a wave of pain washing over him and Bucky closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing and take stock of his injuries (the obvious one aside). He could move his toes so, by some miracle, his spine was intact.
His breathing, on the other hand, was not great. The right side of his ribcage screamed as he tried to take even the shallowest of breaths, spasming on every inhale, and while he managed to keep himself mostly still, he couldn’t stop himself from coughing.
The taste of blood was thick in his throat as the jagged metal was jostled more and more, tearing skin and muscle and organs struggling to heal despite the damage and Bucky’s vision blurred with tears as his strained ears caught Yelena’s voice screaming down at him. For him.
“Barnes!”
He couldn’t speak, though, couldn’t call back.
He was too busy choking on his own blood.
He was drowning.
“ James! ”
Bucky closed his eyes, blocking out everything except for the familiar sound of a grappling hook securing itself in stone, the low hum of wire going taut, and a frantically beating heart growing closer before Yelena dropped the last few feet and ran towards him.
Bucky forced himself to open his eyes as Yelena knelt next to him, her complexion pale as her hands hovered just over the metal, and he could see the helplessness hit her when she looked at him with hazel eyes bright with moisture.
He wanted to catch her hand in his, squeeze it reassuringly, but he couldn’t move.
“You...” she swallowed, voice thick with tears, “You are an idiot, James Barnes.”
Bucky took a shallow breath, giving her a bloody smile, “Full name...must be bad.”
“Now is not the time for jokes.” She seemed to steel herself finally, eyes sharpening as she assessed the extent of his injuries, a furrow appearing between her brows. “We need to get you out of here before the jet leaves.”
And it would leave.
Val had made it clear just how easily she could disavow them.
“Not enough time.” He coughed, groaning at the ripping, tearing pain, “ Go. ”
Yelena’s jaw tightened, “I’m not leaving you here.”
“Yelena...”
She shook her head, “No.”
“You can’t...” He coughed, “You can’t move me, Yelena.”
“ I can’t, but...” She sighed, reaching for her comm, “I am going to regret this.”
Bucky might’ve been able to figure out her train of thought on any other occasion, but something shifted in his chest and he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the pain, tears trickling down the sides of his face as he screamed.
Cool, callused hands gently touched his face, fingers combing through sweat-soaked hair as he failed to bite back another cry, humming a melody that he knew he should be able to place, but couldn’t.
He leaned into the touch, suddenly reminded of his own mother, with her own work-worn hands and soft crooning voice on the rare occasion he got sick; only family ever had the privilege of seeing the stern-faced Winifred Barnes soften.
Bucky was so cold and he knew it was the blood loss, but he couldn’t shake the memory of falling, the coldness of the snow covering his broken and bleeding body and the cruel hands that had roughly dragged him across the ice.
“I don’t...” he coughed, “I don’t wanna go back there.”
“Go where?”
He shuddered as that chill seeped even deeper into his bones, the white-hot pain of before growing more and more distant, filled with the sound of his own slowing heartbeat, “I’m so cold, Ma. So cold.”
The hands stilled for only a moment before continuing their ministrations.
“If you two don’t hurry up, I will shoot you both!”
Two more muffled voices reached him, both masculine, and Bucky tried to open his eyes, to see who they were but everything felt so heavy and the effort to simply open his eyelids was too much.
Bucky could feel himself drifting further away from the voices and the soothing touch, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be scared...to be anything other relieved when the last of the pain faded and he finally fell asleep.
…
He woke to the sound of a heart monitor beeping and a numb haze wrapped around his body, forcing his eyes open to find Yelena curled up in an uncomfortable plastic chair, still wearing her white bodysuit from the mission, looking for all the world that she was asleep.
Bucky smiled, “I know you’re awake, m alyenkiy pauchok.”
Hazel eyes opened and a small smile curled her lips.