Chapter Text
“God fucking- You work this thing!” Bucky spluttered, handing the GPS to Clint. Clint took it gingerly. Five minutes ago, Bucky was berating Clint for trying to take it off of him. They had been heading toward a rendezvous when Clint made the mistake of allowing Bucky to try and work the GPS while he put a bandage on his upper arm where it was cut. In that time, they were so lost they couldn’t even find the trail that Clint had been leaving as they walked.
“If you didn’t fucking walk like a ghost,” Clint muttered and Bucky growled. “I know, I know, your arm’s not the only thing that’s wired a certain way,” Bucky huffed, but walked harder and less carefully. “I see the problem, here, big guy.” He waved the GPS at Bucky. “You mashed the damn thing.”
“Dammit,” Bucky muttered. “Where’s this rendezvous point?” Clint made a pained face.
“Aren’t you supposed to remember this shit?” Bucky stopped walking and turned to glare at him.
“Sorry, but my memory isn’t all that great anymore,” He snapped, taking the GPS back and pushing buttons in vain. “You were sitting right next to me during briefing.” Clint nodded with pursed lips.
“I, uh.” He brushed a hand through his hair. “I guess I just thought you’d remember,” He said sheepishly. Bucky’s face fell.
“You had your fucking hearing aids off, didn’t you?” Clint took back the GPS.
“Maybe if I try and open it to see if the wires are broken,” Bucky slid a hand down his face.
“Why do they even put us on missions together,” He sighed.
“I mean, we make a decent team in the field,” Clint replied. Bucky shrugged his shoulders.
“We’re gonna live in the field if we don’t get back to the rendezvous sometime this week.” Clint barked a laugh. “You don’t remember even the direction of this place?” Clint shrugged.
“He said either west or east. I wasn’t paying close enough attention.” Bucky crossed his arms and nodded slowly.
“Definitely not north or south.” Clint shook his head. “Okay. You’ve got the comms, right?” Clint nodded. “Well, that way’s west,” He gestured to where the sun was falling. Clint’s face also fell.
“Oh, come on, Robocop,” Clint grumbled. “What if he said east?” Bucky winced slightly at the nickname.
“Then I’ll find it and send for help.” Clint gritted his teeth. “We’ll take half the time. If we start now we should be able to get a few miles before we have to break for camp.” Clint frowned. “Anything else you can remember?”
“Something about a river. If one of us finds it, we wait there for the other, alright? Next time, you will not touch the GPS, got it?” Bucky laughed.
“Maybe you shouldn’t get shot at so much. Then I won’t have to navigate.” Clint turned on his heel in defeat.
***
“So,” Clint began. It was starting to get dark. “Breaking for camp?” Bucky nodded on his end of the comm, before grimacing and shaking his head at himself.
“Yeah,” He flopped the backpack on the ground. “Wish we would’ve packed something softer.” Clint laughed.
“Yeah. And some cheeseburgers.” His stomach rumbled in response. He patted it from his bed of leaves and his backpack. “At least the moon’s out so we don’t need flashlights or anything.”
“Yeah.” Bucky replied lamely. Clint punched at his backpack and rolled over.
“So what are you hungry for?” He asked. Bucky scrunched up his face.
“I dunno.”
“Aww, come on, man. You gotta be craving something pretty hard. It’s been since like, two since we’ve had some grub.” Bucky said nothing. “Or do you like, shut that off when you’re in the field?” Clint asked, only half joking. The rumours are real around the Tower.
“No,” Bucky spat. “I’m not actually a robot, Barton.” He said coldly. Clint winced, glad that he wasn’t actually in the presence of the Winter Soldier.
“I know. I was joking.” Clint said. There was silence from the other end of the line. Clint was about to launch into an apology speech to avoid being left behind if Bucky found the rendezvous first. Bucky started talking before he could spit it out.
“I could go for some chilli. Beans, beef, the whole works.” Clint nodded, stomach growling.
“Oh man, and cornbread,” Bucky punched at his backpack and rolled over onto his stomach. “With sour cream and shredded cheese,”
“Gross!” Bucky exclaimed. “You should have stopped at cornbread.” Clint let out an indignant huff before he sighed and stared into the sky. He remembered this morning, when Steve had told him he’d be taking Bucky with him. He had been so annoyed.
“What, you think I can’t handle this little thing by myself?” Clint said, half joking. Since New York, he hadn’t been sent on a single mission by himself. Steve rolled his eyes so hard Clint heard the grinding.
“No. We need somebody to show Bucky how we do our job around here. He’s great in the field, but he doesn’t know anything about the follow up.” Clint gave him a look.
“And you think I’m the best man for the job?” Steve snorted.
“If you’re teaching Bucky how to do the paperwork, you can’t hand it off to Natasha to do.” Clint’s face turned a shade of pink as Steve nodded into his coffee. “She writes in cursive, Clint. I’m not sure how you thought that was going to work.”
“You know, I was supposed to be teaching you how to follow up on missions.” Clint said, exasperated. “Of course, this happens. What are we even going to put in our mission log?” Bucky laughed.
“Mission logs are no problem. You should have seen some of the ones I used to turn in,” He chuckled as Clint remembered that Bucky had a more colourful past than even he did.
“I dunno, man. I’ve submitted some rich ones myself.” They didn’t talk for a minute. Bucky was contemplating telling Clint stories, and Clint was just about ready to fall asleep.
“You should shut off your comms and hearing aids.” Bucky stated sharply. “Don’t want the battery to die on us.” Clint muzzily did what he was told.
“‘Night,” he said into the woods.
***
Clint woke when a shaft of sunshine hit him in the eyes. He grumpily put his arm up over his face before he realised that his window was on the other side of his bed.
“Oh. Yeah.” He sat up and looked around as he futzed with his comms and hearing aids. Once they were online, he checked to see if Bucky was awake.
“I’ve been awake an hour.” He snorted. “Damn birds screeching got me out of bed at sunrise.” Clint rolled his eyes and tried to get the crick out of his back.
“Yeah, like that’s going to bother the likes of me,” He grumbled. “How far have you gone, you think?”
“Three miles, about.” Clint groaned as he realised his neck also had a crick. “What are you doing?” Bucky asked dubiously.
“Sleeping on the ground has some serious drawbacks. You remember when it was cool to camp out in the yard? Now I just feel like I’ve been in a fistfight.” Clint collected his shit and started walking in his designated direction.
“You were in a fistfight.” Bucky said drily. Clint laughed and scared away some chipmunks.
“Mostly a shootout, though.” He replied. They walked in amicable silence for a while before Bucky whistled.
“Turn around and look on the horizon. Storms, coming in fast.” Clint swore as he turned on his heel.
“That’s just great. Nothing I have is waterproof.” He groaned. Bucky scrunched his face as he broke into a comfortable jog.
“What matters? You won’t be wet forever.” Clint growled as he frantically shoveled through his pack.
“Hearing aids, bro. Those aren’t waterproof.” He found a wrapper from a Clif bar he had eaten like three weeks ago and stuck it in his pocket. “I found a Clif bar wrapper I should be able to keep them mostly dry, I think.” Bucky huffed.
“For once, you’re out on top for being a slob.” Clint shook his head, grinning.
“Whatever, Barnes. I’ll leave ‘em in til the first drop of water hits my body, then we’re on our own.” As it turned out, that was promptly after Clint had finished his sentence. He grouchily folded the wrapper around the little pieces of plastic and put them in the inner pocket of his vest. He decided to get his hustle on, hoping he could find some shelter.
***
Bucky jogged until he was mildly uncomfortable. If this went on much longer, he’d have to save his energy. He was soaked through, chaffing, and chilled to the bone. As he pushed his way through some thicket, he vowed to start keeping notes of meetings. The rain was finally slowing, and that he was grateful for. He crested the hill and looked down into a small clearing. He immediately got a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the fat drops of rain. As he had crested the hill, he was sure he had seen movement in the treeline. Bucky trepidatiously half-walked, half-slid down the hill toward the center of the clearing.
“Barton?” He called out, hoping the other agent had just decided to catch up with him. He saw a man with a rifle step out of the treeline, and before he could react he heard the crack and felt a sharp pain in his neck. A dart. They were taking him in. He ripped it out as earth-shattering panic set in. Men swarmed out of the trees. His knees gave out and he was driven into the soft earth.
“ Barton! ” He bellowed into the air, hoping Clint had replaced his comms and hearing aids. He fell into unconsciousness, hands all over him and restraints clicking into place.