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It wasn't supposed to be a dangerous mission. Not for Joaquín anyway. He was just supposed to hang back, let Bucky and Sam deal with getting back some stolen vibranium. They would return it to Wakanda as soon as they got it.
Turns out the robbers weren't very smart. It was a wonder they'd even managed to steal it in the first place. A couple of them made a run for it. Sam told him over comms, and Joaquín ended up sprinting down an alleyway after one of them.
The man jumped to climb up a fire escape. Joaquín grabbed his ankle, pulling him back down. He stumbled, backing up into the wall. Joaquín blocked the exit of the alley with his body, cornering him.
"Look man, just give me that," Joaquín pointed at the bag. "The Wakandans will be much less nice. Trust me."
"Fuck you," the man spat. He jerked the bag to his front, clutching it to his body.
Joaquín reached his hand out, giving him another chance to hand it over.
The man glared at him, then sighed. He reached into the bag.
By the time Joaquín noticed the distinct sound of metal a gun was already being pointed at him. The guy must have been really stupid, because instead of trying to strike a bargain he simply pulled the trigger.
Joaquín had never been shot before. It hurt just about as much as he expected. He clutched at his stomach, other arm shooting up to protect himself.
Joaquín was shoved. He distantly heard the man running away as his body crashed into the ground.
Everything seemed blurry. All he could feel was the overwhelming pain in his stomach. He reached a trembling hand up to his ear.
"Sam..." he breathed into the mic. "I got- got shot."
Joaquín heard a response, but he couldn't focus on the words. He put all his energy into maintaining pressure on the wound.
Blood leaked into his hand, more and more the longer he laid there. He moved his other hand to join it, trying to stop the shaking.
"Joaquín!" Someone said from behind him. Two sets of footsteps approached.
Sam stepped into view. He crouched down beside him, followed by Bucky.
"Okay. Can you move onto your back for us?" Sam requested, giving him a comforting smile.
Joaquín nodded. He prepared himself, them shifted to lay on his back. A loud groan of pain escaped his lips.
"Thank you. We've got a med kit here. Just stay awake for me, okay?" Sam said, patting his shoulder gently.
"Okay," Joaquín said quietly. As much as he didn't like hospitals, getting a injury they needed to treat before they could get to a hospital sucked the most.
"Alright Joaquín," he felt Bucky's hands move against his own. "Move your hands."
Joaquín did so, letting his arms flop down. He shut his eyes tight as Bucky and Sam began to work on the wound.
Damn, that fucking hurt. He couldn't help letting out moans and whimpers. He barely managed to keep from jolting away.
"You're doing great, Joaquín. Just a little bit longer," Sam assured him.
Joaquín opened his eyes slowly. His body was beginning to feel light. He stared up at the bright blue sky. Only a few fluffy white clouds were floating by. It was a beautiful day.
Joaquín eyes blurred out of focus. Was he dying?
"Sam..." he groaned. "I don't... wanna die."
"Then it's a good thing you're not going to, hm?" Sam replied.
Joaquín struggled to keep his eyes open. All he could feel was the overwhelming pain in his stomach.
"It hurts!" Joaquín cried.
"I know, I know, shh," Sam said softly.
"You're doing good, Joaquín," Bucky said.
"No, no, I don't- I cant," Joaquín muttered as the pain just continued. The sky was spinning, blurring together in a whirl of blue.
Sam and Bucky continued talking to him as they worked. He couldn't bring himself to hear any of it. It felt like an eternity until their hands finally backed away.
“We need to get you back to the plane. Do you think you can move?” Sam asked as his face came into view. His eyebrows were kneaded together, eyes full of worry.
“I can try,” Joaquín said. When he attempted to move a sharp pang went through his abdomen. He groaned, rolling his head back.
There was a rustling sound and then Bucky came into view beside Sam. “We can give you something, if you'd like. It'll make you sleepy, easier to move.”
Joaquín nodded. He didn't really want to be awake anymore.
Sam lifted his head up for him and pressed a glass to his lips. He drank it, he didn't even care about the bitter taste.
Joaquín set his head back down. He stared up at the sky, which was beginning to blur even more. He blinked heavily until his eyes couldn't seem to find the strength to open.
-
There was a clicking noise somewhere in the room. Joaquín had gotten used to sleeping in unpleasant environments but right now he was feeling extra exhausted, and really that clicking was obnoxious.
It took a lot of effort to open his eyes. Even more to turn his head and look in the direction of the sound. When he did he saw Bucky, sitting down and clicking a pen loudly in his hand.
“Could you not?” Joaquín groaned.
Bucky turned to him, startled in a way he rarely saw him be. “Joaquín?”
“I don't remember being named something else.”
Bucky stood up. He crouched down beside Joaquín, looking over him. “How do you feel?”
Joaquín couldn't really feel, now that he thought about it. His body felt pretty numb.
“I feel weird.”
“Joaquín?” Sam's voice came from somewhere on the plate. His footsteps approached quickly, then he was right next to Bucky.
“What- oh.” The memories of what happened suddenly came flooding back to Joaquín. He reached under the blanket to put his hand over the wound. An aching pain grew underneath his hand. He moved it away.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
“I'm not dead,” Joaquín said.
Sam smiled, patting his shoulder gently. “No, you're not.”
“Why didn't you give me- whatever you gave me- earlier?” Joaquín complained.
They both looked a little guilty at that. “We wanted to make sure you didn't die on us, sorry Joaquín,” Sam explained.
“Hm,” Joaquín hummed. His feeling was beginning to return. Along with that, the pain. The worst part was done. He still had the next few days.