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“So… you're right-handed, right?”
Walker knew Bob well enough to recognize that the way his mouth flattened meant he was going to be giving him a hard time, which came in the form of a question, not more than a second later.
“You don’t know?”
See?
“Okay, smartass,” he huffed, crossing his arms while glowering at him. “What am I?”
His frown only deepened before his eyes slid over to Walker’s right side without hesitation.
“Right,” he answered.
Well, damn.
Now what was he supposed to say?
No, and try to prove him wrong by using the other hand?
He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck while his brain quickly scrambled for anything.
“I was just making sure, I knew that you’re right-handed,” he settled with his fifty-fifty guess before handing him the Glock 17. By every account, it was probably a terrible idea to be teaching a man who could basically wipe out the entire New York skyline, both physically and mentally, how to use a firearm.
However, Walker had already committed, and backing out now would make him a hypocrite.
And he certainly wasn’t that.
Bob took the Glock like it might do something unpredictable in his hands, like suddenly shapeshift into a snake or burst into flames. His fingers closed around it a second too carefully, like he was expecting it to go off if he breathed too heavily on it suddenly.
He held it out in front of him, stiff-armed, staring at it with open suspicion.
Then, slowly, he looked up at Walker with a deep worry line.
“Am…am I allowed to hold this?” he asked timidly, like this was all a test.
“Yes, you’re allowed to hold it,” he retorted, but truthfully, he had no clue if there were protocols to be done before Bob could legally hold a weapon. He recalled Bob holding an assault rifle with Yelena when they were all down at the Vault.
So…probably allowed?
Bob’s eyes flicked back down to the gun, then back up again, his grip tightening just enough to say he wasn’t about to drop it but not enough to suggest he had any intention of actually using it.
“You just carry these around?” he questioned, lowering his voice slightly, like someone might overhear and report them. Then again, if anyone found out—mainly Yelena—the super soldier didn’t even want to think about it.
Walker frowned. “You’ve been on missions with us.”
“W-well, through comms, you know?” he asked. “It’s…supervised.”
Walker stared at him for a beat. “This is supervised.”
Technically.
“I feel like I’m going to get arrested,” he admitted.
At that, he finally arched a brow. “Do you want to learn how to use a gun or not?”
“I do!” he exclaimed, nodding furiously. “I want to help in other ways, you know?”
See?
He’s doing that stupid puppy-dog eyes thing again that made it damn near impossible to tell him no without feeling like the worst kind of asshole. Sometimes, Walker wondered if this was some superpower he had as well because there’s no way he was good at getting everything his way.
Damn it.
He sighed, knowing this might come to bite him in the ass or it might save him and the others one day—not that he cared or anything. He just wanted the credit when the time came and rubbed it all over their stupid faces that were keen on sheltering Bob.
Plus, he knew Bob was always curious.
He felt his eyes wandering over to one of them anytime they dismantled and cleaned their weapons out in the common room. Sometimes, Walker found himself branding it smugly to see the awe in his eyes.
So when he offered just ten minutes ago, after Bob wandered into the gym and saw him practicing his aim at a few test dummies, he practically lit up like it was Christmas morning with that brightness that was damn near blinding.
To think this was what he was doing on a Friday night.
What has the world come to?
“Okay. Fine. First things first, you’re going to have to hold the gun like it’s not going to suddenly turn on you,” Walker maintained, eyeing the stiff way Bob held it. “Relax your hands. It’s not going to bite.”
Bob swallowed and then released a shaky breath.
“Like…l-like this?” he asked nervously, adjusting his grip with careful precision, like he was afraid even the smallest mistake might make the gun go off. His fingers weren’t even pressed on the trigger, and Walker had to wedge that he knew that.
It’s the most basic thing.
Also, wasn’t Bob a Floridian?
Didn’t they have the right to keep and bear arms?
Walker watched him for a second, then reached out to steady his hands.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s much better.”
Bob nodded, though he still looked like he was bracing for something to go wrong.
“What’s…next?”
Walker stepped back just enough to look him over, arms crossing again like he was assessing a recruit instead of…well, whatever this was.
“You remove the safety.”
Bob blinked at him. “How?”
Walker stared for half a second, then exhaled through his nose and stepped in again.
“Here,” he said, reaching over, his fingers brushing against Bob’s as he nudged his thumb into place. “This little switch down here? You flip it down.”
Bob followed the motion carefully, almost hesitantly, before there was a soft click.
He promptly froze.
“That’s…it?” he asked, glancing up at Walker with something between disbelief and mild alarm.
Walker gave a single nod, completely unfazed.
“Yup, that’s about it,” he stated, tilting his head. “Now you’re ready to kill some dummies, but you’re going to have to hold the gun much higher than that, or the only thing you’d be shooting is the floor beneath us.
“Uh, like this?” he asked, lifting it only slightly.
How was it possible to somehow get that wrong?
Walker reached forward again, two fingers tapping the back of the slide before nudging Bob’s hands up.
“Higher,” he instructed. “You’re dipping it already.”
“I’m not dipping it,” Bob protested, trying to adjust without overcorrecting and somehow managing to do exactly that.
“Yes, you are. Look at it.”
“I am looking at it,” Bob shot back, glancing down again like the gun might’ve moved on its own. “It keeps—”
“It’s not keeping anything,” Walker cut in. “You’re the one moving it, and I’d know because you’re able to deadlift a ton of weight like it’s nothing, so don’t tell me the gun’s the problem.”
Bob huffed, shoulders tightening. “Okay, well, maybe if you weren’t—hovering—”
“I’m not hovering, I’m correcting—”
“You’re very close—”
“That’s because you’re about to shoot the damn floor—”
“I’m not going to shoot the floor!”
Walker gave him a look. “You are absolutely going to shoot the floor at this rate.”
“I am not—”
Something white streaked through the edge of Walker’s vision, and Bob startled, yelping in surprise. That’s when a loud, unmistakable bang echoed all around the gym, and the sound of groaning, which Walker only recognized a moment later as his own.
He immediately clutched his right arm as searing hot pain shot through his entire body.
Motherfucker—
“Son of a fuckin’ bitch, you fucking shot me! You actually fucking shot me!” Walker said, more so in disbelief at the moment than the pain itself, though that was catching up fast and making him regret every decision that led him here.
Bob promptly dropped the gun, his face paling while his eyes shot up to meet Walker’s.
“I’m so sorry! Don’t tell Yelena!” he squeaked.
Seriously?!
He balked at him.
“Why is that the first thing you’re worried about and not the gaping hole in my arm?” Walker demanded through a wheeze, his hand pressed to the wound. “Fuck, six months on the field without getting shot, and the first time I do, it’s a friendly fire from the golden retriever over here!”
It could be worse.
It could be way, way worse.
He could have shot him in the chest, his palm, or even worse yet, little Johnny between his legs.
Though the thought wasn’t helping, especially as his brain so helpfully started running through every worst-case scenario, he’d just barely avoided. He stared at his arm, watching his navy-blue compression shirt deepen as the blood quickly spread through the fabric, dark and blooming around his grip.
His finger twitched and felt the other side.
Okay.
Okay, so the bullet was still lodged inside of him.
Which meant that in the best-case scenario—even though there really wasn’t one—it didn’t break a bone.
Cool, cool, cool.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Bob professed, not sure if he should come closer or dart.
“You…” he wheezed, staring down at his arm like he still couldn't comprehend it. “You shot me. I can’t believe you actually shot me.”
“I didn’t mean to!” he exclaimed, shaking his head so fast that it’s a blur. “But don’t tell Yelena or Bucky—”
“Obviously, I’m not fuckin’ stupid! She’s going to rip me a new one with the same gun you shot me with, and then Bucky's going to shove that gun somewhere I’m never going to recover from if he finds out about this!”
Bob’s face quickly melted to relief for a moment before it changed just as quickly to terror.
“S-so what are we going to do?” he asked.
“We are going to keep this hidden from the others, and then after this, you are never, ever holding a gun within a ten-foot radius of me again for as long as we both live. The privilege is long gone.”
“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose,” he maintained. In that moment, Bucky’s white cat decided to poke her head out from wherever, letting out a small, curious meow like she wasn’t about to get them both killed. Bob pointed at Alpine. “That’s who ran by and startled me!”
Walker blinked. “You shot me because of a cat?!”
“She startled me!”
In that moment, Alpine chose to act all adorable, lying down on her side right at their feet and looking up at him prettily. Walker stared at the cat, then back at Bob, then at his arm like that might somehow make this make more sense.
“I got shot because of that?” he demanded, gesturing weakly with his shot hand toward Alpine as she stretched out like she owned the place. “You got startled by this small creature, Bob? Her?”
Bob winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”
“It is bad!”
Alpine blinked up at them, slow and prettily with her large green eyes, tail flicking once before she let out another soft, innocent meow. Walker scowled at her. “She doesn’t even look sorry.”
“She’s a cat,” Bob said helplessly. “I don’t think they—do that.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” Walker snapped. “I just figured maybe after accessory to aggravated assault—”
Alpine rolled onto her back now, exposing all of her round, fluffy belly.
Walker cut himself off, staring.
“Oh, now she’s cute,” he muttered darkly. “I hate you both.”
Bob glanced between them, still pale. “Should I, um…help you? Or—get something? Or—”
“Yes,” Walker bit out, feeling his long-sleeve now soaked up to his elbow. “You can start by grabbing anything, literally, to stop the bleeding before I pass out, and then we have a much bigger problem to explain.”
Bob nodded rapidly. “Right, right, okay, pressure. I remember that.”
He turned, immediately bumping into a bench on his way out.
Walker squeezed his eyes shut. “Unbelievable.”
Alpine got up purring like a motorboat while bumping her head to his ankle.
He braced himself as he bent to pick up the dropped gun with his shot arm.
He might be in pain, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave evidence at the crime scene.
Bob came back a few moments later with two white towels, and Walker practically had to wrangle them out of his hands from how hard he was clutching them. Walker hissed, sweat trickling down his face while pressing one of the towels hard against the wound, his jaw clenching as fresh pain flared up his arm.
“Jesus, okay, yeah. That’s—great, that’s exactly what I needed,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, as he started to walk to the elevator with Bob trailing right behind him. The sooner he could get to the medbay and get this wrapped and a pop of morphine, the better.
“Is that enough? Do you need more? I can get more. I can get, like, ten more.”
“I don’t need ten more. I need you to relax,” Walker snapped, then immediately winced at the way that pulled at his arm. “You look like you’re going to faint, and I don’t want to drag your body to medbay.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” Bob said swiftly, even as he looked a little green.
“Sure you aren’t, bud,” he mumbled, stepping in. “Press the damn button for me.”
Bob quickly did so, and they rode all the way to the common room silently.
Once inside, Walker was already beelining straight across when the low, familiar whine of engines cut through the room. His eyes twitched, and he couldn’t believe his impossibly amazing luck today.
Outside the glass, the Quinjet was descending.
That meant everyone.
That meant Yelena.
“Really, you outdone yourself tonight, Walker,” he hissed to himself, the words tumbling out into a full string of curses under his breath. Walker turned sharply to Bob, only to find him looking even worse than before: pale, wide-eyed, and swaying just enough to be concerning. “My hoodie’s in my usual spot. Grab it now.”
Bob didn’t argue this time.
He practically bolted, nearly tripping over his own feet as he made a beeline for the sofa. Walker exhaled sharply, then crouched with a strained grunt, quickly shoving the blood-soaked towels and the Glock under the couch with his foot.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Or at least, out of immediate execution.
“Got it,” Bob called, rushing back over and nearly skidding to a stop as he held it out.
Walker snatched the hoodie, biting back another curse as the movement pulled at his arm, then yanked it on as best as he could one-handed. The dark fabric did a decent job of hiding the damage…at least at a glance.
“Okay,” he muttered, dragging in a breath and straightening up. “Okay. We’re fine. This is fine.”
Why did he feel like that one meme where a cartoon dog was sitting in a burning house?
Bob stared at him like that was the least convincing thing he’d ever heard.
From outside, the Quinjet finished its landing.
Walker forced his posture to straighten, jaw tight.
“Don’t say anything, got it?” Walker warned under his breath. “Not a single word, and put that damn guilty look off your face, you’re going to make it obvious before we even have the chance to cover it up.”
Bob nodded rapidly just as everyone stepped out and made their way back in.
It should be noted that oftentimes, they’d come back covered in soot or injury of sorts.
On the days they weren’t, it was a good day.
Yet right now, it only further complicates things.
Yelena immediately perked up upon seeing Bob, her entire expression lighting up.
“Hi Bob,” she greeted, already heading straight toward him with open arms, before her eyes flicked between the two of them. Her steps slowed and then narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you both look…strange?”
Walker didn’t miss the way Bob stiffened beside him.
Don’t say anything.
“Oh, it was a long night we had while you guys were out slaving away by Val,” Walker cut in smoothly, or at least as smoothly as he could manage while actively bleeding out under a hoodie. “Bob was helping me with training earlier.”
Yelena’s brows lifted immediately. “Bob was helping you?”
Walker didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”
She didn’t relent. “With what training?”
“What is this, twenty questions?” he shot back, rolling his eyes as Ava passed them.
“Well, what’s the special occasion to be met with a greeting from you?” Ava asked.
“I can’t be a good sport and greet you all back?”
Ava snorted softly but didn’t argue, stepping past him like she’d already clocked something was off and decided to let it simmer. Alexei lit up immediately, puffing his chest out. “To be greeted by a former Captain America is the greatest honor!”
Yelena only took a second to think about it before shaking her head.
“Mm, no, definitely not.”
Walker scoffed under his breath.
Yet before he could fire back, Bucky was already shrugging off his jacket.
“I’m going to change and shower first,” he said, heading toward the hall. “You guys pick a movie by then.”
Walker blinked. “Movie?”
Ava stopped just long enough to glance at him before moving to grab a bottle of water.
“Did you take a hit to the head or just forget how to function? It’s movie night,” she answered flatly as she picked up a beer bottle. “You know, that one day a week we decided to gather in the same space and make questionable entertainment choices as a group while shoving unhealthy food into our system?”
“Can I pick this time?” Alexei asked, catching one of the bottles with ease.
Yelena didn’t even hesitate. “No way! You picked The Red Banner Rises the first time, and when we all gave you a second chance, you picked Guardian of the Motherland.”
Alexei frowned. “Those are classics.”
“They were four hours long,” Ava quipped, walking over with a bottle of water for Yelena to take. “And one of them had no subtitles.”
“It is about feeling,” he countered, thumping his chest. “Not reading!”
“It was about the Soviet Armed Forces and how great Russia is,” Yelena deadpanned. “And half of the documentary was about you and your former glory days.”
Alexei turned to her, wounded. “But, Lena—”
“No. Go shower and change. You smell like shit, папочка."
Dejected, the Red Guardian took another swing at his beer before stalking off to get ready for movie night.
Walker shifted slightly, trying not to wince as the movement pulled at his arm.
Yelena’s gaze snapped back to him instantly.
“Everything okay, Walker?”
Shit, shit, shit.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, waving it off with his good hand. “Just sore. Comes with actually putting in the work. Something you wouldn’t know.”
“You better remember that tomorrow when we spar and I kick your ass,” she huffed, and right before heading off, she got onto her tippy toes and kissed Bob. “I’m going to change and take a quick shower. You’ll be okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a goofy smile. “I can pick a movie, if that’s okay?”
Yelena gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, sure.”
Walker was going to be sick from how disgustingly sweet they are.
Why was he actively bleeding out and miserable while Bob lived his best life, even though this was all his fault technically?
Walker shifted again, subtly, testing before immediately regretting it as pain flared up in his arm.
Don’t react.
Don’t react.
Don’t fucking react.
Ava didn’t move.
She just stood there, head tilting slightly, eyes flicking between the two of them like she was lining up pieces that didn’t quite fit. Bob went rigid beside him, and Walker forced himself to stay still.
A beat passed before she finally sighed.
“You know what,” Ava said, straightening. “I don’t even want to know what you two are hiding.” She gestured vaguely between them. “Now, if you don’t need me, I’ll be in the medbay. You can start the movie without me first. I already ordered pizza on the jet, so someone get that when it comes.”
Walker’s stomach dropped.
Shit, seriously?
“Why do you need to go to medbay?” he asked quickly, a little too quickly. “Everything okay?”
Ava’s eyes narrowed just a fraction.
“Yeah,” she said slowly, still watching him. “I just need to top off the quantum chamber before it starts acting up again. The last thing I need is phasing through a wall and be crushed to death because it ran dry. Why? Do you need to go?”
She held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.
“No,” he gritted out.
She stared at them warily for a little bit longer before walking and phasing right out of the room.
As soon as she did, Walker didn’t even care if she could still be hiding nearby because his knees were already shaking at this point. He collapsed on the couch, groaning while his head tipped back against the cushion, eyes squeezing shut as the adrenaline finally started to wear off.
“Shouldn’t you get that…patched?” Bob whispered, staring down at him worriedly.
“How? Ava’s in there, and it’s going to be too obvious something’s up; she’s already suspicious alongside Yelena,” he hissed, swallowing his nausea that was building up too.
This is fine.
He’s going to be okay.
He just needed to pretend that he never had a right arm in the first place.
Bucky has a prosthetic in his left arm, and if, for whatever reason, he had to amputate his because they were too late to save it, then it’s perfect. Now they could match and make it a team theme or something.
“So you’re just going to sit through a movie?” Bob asked, flicking on the TV while looking back every few seconds as if he was going to pass away at any moment.
“Unless you plan to bleed me out by picking a four-hour movie, pick something short.”
“Like what?” he questioned nervously.
“I don’t know, think of something,” he snapped. “Anything that doesn’t feel like a lifetime.”
Though that was going to be a damn challenge.
“Um…”
“And turn off the lights now before they see the soaked stain and how pale I’m probably going to look in a few minutes,” Walker instructed. Bob nodded, calling C.L.O.C. to turn off the lights while still browsing through the thousands of options.
It hadn’t been even twenty minutes when Yelena came back first, dressed in an oversized hoodie and baggy cargo shorts with a towel draped over her dripping wet head. “Wow, you guys are prepared.”
“We thought, uh, to make your lives easier,” Bob finally—finally—decided to make himself useful in lying.
“Thank you, Bob. That’s sweet of you,” she said, smiling brightly as the bell rang.
“Food’s here, I’ll get it,” Yelena called out, and once she’s out of earshot, Walker turned to Bob.
“Hurry and pick something,” he growled. “I swear to Thor himself—”
He didn’t get to finish when Yelena came back with three large boxes of pizza, smaller boxes stacked on top filled with desserts, chicken wings, and garlic knots, an unnecessary number of dipping sauces, alongside—
“Oh, Walker. Since you were bitching about me eating your last bag of chips, here.”
He couldn’t even prepare himself before she tossed the bag straight at him, and it hit his injured arm dead on. Walker bit his tongue so hard that the taste of metal exploded in his mouth but even then, it wasn’t enough to stop the groan that followed.
Son of a bitch!
“Yeah! That’s exactly what a zombie would have said!” Bob exclaimed loudly.
Yelena placed the food down, blinking a few times.
“What?”
“We were talking about, uh…z-zombies,” Bob rushed out. “Like, if someone got bitten and tried to play it off, that’s exactly what they’d sound like! So yeah…it’s that…”
“Uh-huh,” Yelena deadpanned, but thankfully, Alexei came back in at that exact moment, dressed in a black tank top and a pair of shorts.
“Ah! The feast has arrived!” he boomed, immediately gravitating toward the stack of boxes. “This—this is what I like to see. Team bonding!”
Yelena’s attention shifted, just enough.
“No, you’re supposed to wait until everyone arrives,” she said, smacking her father’s hand before taking her usual seat on the love couch. Walker exhaled slowly through his nose, trying not to sag in relief.
Bob, however, was still standing there like he might confess to a crime at any second.
Right before he shot him a threatening look.
They got this far already, no point in ruining it now.
Bucky came soon after that, carrying the feline in his arms that was the whole reason why they were in this stupid, painful mess in the first place, before he glazes everyone over once. “Where’s Ava?”
Of course, he’d ask.
Walker didn’t even blink. “Medbay.”
Bucky’s gaze shifted to him, sharp and immediate. “Why?”
“Maintenance,” Walker said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Quantum whatever thing, she said we can start first without her, and she’ll join us later.”
Bucky held his stare for a beat too long.
“Right,” he said finally, though he didn’t sound convinced while he took his usual seat. In his arms, Alpine blinked lazily, completely unbothered while purring loudly. “So what are we thinking of tonight?”
“Uh…” Bob trailed off, swallowing while he clicked the down button faster until the option on the screen was nothing more than a blur.
“If you’re looking for a suggestion, I first read The Hobbit when it first came out in 1937. We—”
“No,” Walker and Bob chimed at once.
No way Walker would survive an almost three-hour movie.
Bucky, Yelena, and even Alexei immediately turned to look at them, brows furrowing in near-perfect unison. Walker could feel his blood pressure rising, and it wasn’t only because he was actively bleeding out and dying.
“Well, it was just a suggestion,” Bucky slowly maintained.
“What about Star Wars? I hear that’s popular,” Alexei offered.
“No, it sounds confusing when I heard about it,” Yelena shot back, shaking her head.
“W-what about Winnie the Pooh?” Bob offered, and Walker gawked at him.
Were they children?
Right before he remembered that the movie was, at most, an hour.
“Winnie the Pooh?” Bucky echoed.
“If the man wants to watch a classic, nostalgic movie, let him,” Walker affirmed, eyes cutting over to Bob. “Start the movie.”
Bob didn’t hesitate this time, immediately clicking into it like his life depended on it—which, given the circumstances, wasn’t entirely wrong. The screen flickered before the soft, familiar opening music filled the room.
Of course, Alexei immediately plopped down and started digging in while Bob dragged himself over to where Yelena was seated. She doesn’t hesitate in leaning into him, watching the movie while Bob keeps glancing over at Walker every other second.
Jesus Christ, could he be more obvious?
Swallowing, Walker tried his hardest to concentrate on the movie rather than on how soaking wet his sweater was or the sweat dripping down his face. He could do this. He had gone through much worse before in the army.
He was a former member of the US Army’s 75th Ranger Regiment.
Hell, he was shot before he even injected himself with the super soldier serum for fuck’s sake!
So long as no one made a single move, everything would be okay.
As a matter of fact, his arm was already numbing, and the pain wasn’t as bad as before.
Maybe he could pretend to sleep.
If he never woke up, he wasn’t exactly complaining either if he was being honest.
Actually, maybe he—
“You’re not going to eat, Walker?”
His eyes snapped open and over at Yelena, who was watching him now curiously.
He opened his mouth to say no, because the thought of food right now made his stomach turn, but stopped himself just in time. That would be too obvious. Way too obvious. By his own logic, and what lies he told them, he should be starving by all accounts.
Hell, on any normal day, he’d already be halfway through a box by now, right alongside Alexei.
Not eating would stick out more than anything else he’d done so far.
So instead, Walker forced a scoff, dragging his hands to open his bag of chips and then toward the nearest slice like nothing was wrong, no matter how much he wanted to lie down and never move again.
“I was getting there, jeez, get off my back,” he huffed, willing his hand to stop shaking. He took a bite anyway, chewing through it like it was part of the act, like his body wasn’t currently trying to shut down on him.
Gritting his molars until they were throbbing, he placed his shot arm on the armrest.
They all fell silent again, and Walker thinks this might actually work when, sure enough—
Bob’s eyes darted back to him, and this time, his eyes widened and stared at the space right next to Walker. The US agent scowled, but when Bob refused to turn away, he decided to look down, and that’s when he saw it.
His sweater was dripping blood down the armrest and all over the floor.
Fucking hell.
That would happen to him, wouldn’t it?
His eyes twitched, and he met Bob’s eyes, shaking his head slightly.
Don’t look at it and make it more obvious in front of Yelena!
They were only lucky that the common room was completely dark aside from the glowing TV. Walker was already racking his brain on a way to grab some paper towels from the kitchen and back without causing a scene when—
“What are we watching?”
Perfect.
Walker was praying to all the gods he knew, and by some miracle, someone out there in the multiverse must be listening because Ava didn’t actually phase next to him like she usually did to scare him.
She was already phasing next to Bucky’s side, sitting on the armrest and reaching to grab a slice.
“Winnie the Pooh,” Bucky answered. “Everything okay with you?”
“Mm, yeah. Just needed to research before my molecules start doing their own thing,” she answered, but then, she made a show of sniffing rather loudly in the air. “Is it just me…or does anyone else still smell…gunpowder?”
“Gunpowder?” Yelena parroted and decided to also take a whiff before humming. “Huh. Yeah, it kinda does.”
This was it.
He was going to poison Ava’s tea when she wasn’t looking.
“That would be me,” Walker had to quickly cut in before it devolved into something else entirely. “As I said, I was training with Bob, sparred a bit, and I used a gun on some practice dummies.”
Ava’s brow lifted slightly. “You sparred with Bob.”
Walker didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, I thought we already moved on from that?”
Bucky’s gaze flicked between them again, sharper this time. “With a gun?”
“Yes, on the dummies,” Walker clarified, a little tighter now. “Try to keep up, old man.”
“And you didn’t think to shower after?” Ava added, taking another bite like she wasn’t actively poking holes in his story.
Walker shrugged with his good shoulder.
“Nah, came straight here. Wouldn’t want to miss movie night,” he deadpanned, eyes locked onto the TV while Pooh drifted along, humming to himself. At this point, his vision was starting to blur around the edges, and he really thinks he might pass out.
Still better than confessing if he was honest.
Then—
A loud burst cracked from somewhere upstairs, sharp and sudden, like something heavy had slammed and shattered. Everyone froze as Alpine bolted instantly, a flash of white as she dove off Bucky’s lap and disappeared behind the couch, tail puffed up.
“What the hell was that?” Yelena snapped, already on her feet.
Bucky was up just as fast, head tilted slightly as he listened for anything else. “Upstairs.”
Ava straightened, eyes narrowing. “That didn’t sound good.”
Another faint thud followed.
Alexei cracked his knuckles. “I will check if it’s an intruder.”
“I’ll check the cameras,” Bucky attested.
This was their chance.
He was too relieved right now to even check if there really was an intruder.
“I’ll check here on the first floor,” Walker jumped in.
“I’ll help,” Bob established, and within seconds, all of them were heading toward the stairs, attention completely pulled away. Walker and Bob practically beelined straight to the medbay, throwing the door open, and Bob dashed for a first aid kit. “How bad is it?”
Bob dropped the first-aid kit onto the counter hard enough to rattle, already digging through it with shaking hands. Gauze. Tweezers. Antiseptic. He kept glancing back at Walker like he expected him to keel over mid-sentence.
“I’m seeing double of you, so I’m going to go ahead and say not great,” Walker groaned, bracing one hand against the edge of the table as he sat. His other arm hung stiff at his side, blood soaking through the fabric. “What was that explosion earlier?”
Bob yanked open a drawer with his hip, grabbing a pair of gloves and snapping them on too fast.
“I concentrated, and I think I made a vase down in the upstairs hall explode,” he said, already reaching for Walker’s arms. He grimaced, but with his six months working in comms and patching them all up, it seemed he was getting the hang of things.
Walker blinked at him, slow and disbelieving. “You could do that?”
“I don’t know,” Bob admitted quickly, grabbing the scissors and cutting away the sleeve with clumsy urgency. “I could either—uh—focus it or panic it, and that one was definitely panic. I hope it’s the only thing broken and I didn’t accidentally destroy something else.”
“Great,” Walker muttered, jaw tightening as cool air hit the wound.
Bob leaned in, squinting. “Okay. Yeah. That’s—there’s a bullet still in there.”
“No fuckin' kidding, Bob,” Walker shot back, his breath hitching as Bob pressed gauze around it while reaching for a bottle of painkillers and practically thrusting the entire thing at him. “Now you done narrating and you're going to fix or?”
“Fix,” Bob said quickly, already reaching for the tweezers and then hesitating. “Okay, this is the part where you don’t move.”
Walker gave a strained huff, tightening his hold around the bottle.
“Yeah, I figured that much out.”
Bob steadied his hand against Walker’s arm, the tremor still there but smaller now, forced down. “On three?”
“You’re not actually going to count—”
Bob didn’t because he didn’t even count to one before going right in.
Walker jerked hard, a sharp curse ripping out of him as his hand slammed against the table, knuckles whitening.
“Jesus—!”
“Almost, almost,” Bob muttered, jaw clenched, adjusting his grip. “Hold still, hold still—”
“That’s not—helpful—!”
With a final careful pull, the bullet came free with a sickening, quiet sound.
Bob immediately dropped it into a metal tray with a clink and grabbed fresh gauze, pressing it firmly to the wound.
“Okay, okay, got it. That was the worst part.”
Walker sagged back slightly, breathing hard, sweat beading at his temple. “You better be right.”
“I am,” Bob said, though his voice still wavered a little as he reached for the antiseptic. “Now I just have to clean it and stitch it. If we’re fast enough, we should be back before any of them realize anything.”
“Hurry up then.”
That was the dream that Walker wished for, if only that.
With a groan, he popped two painkillers into his mouth and swallowed it dry. If it somehow managed to choke him to death, it would almost be preferable to sitting through whatever Bob was about to do next.
“I’m sorry,” Bob said quickly, like he could hear the thought forming, already pouring antiseptic over the wound. Walker sucked in a sharp breath, his whole body going rigid as the burn slams into him.
“Oh, come on, was that strictly necessary?!”
“Yes,” Bob shot back, grabbing more gauze and wiping away the blood with quick, careful motions. “Very necessary. Extremely necessary. Please don’t die of infection after I successfully got the bullet out, that would be really discouraging for me.”
Walker let out a strained huff that might’ve been a laugh.
“I’ll do my best to prioritize your morale.”
Bob didn’t answer, too focused now. He threaded the needle with fumbling fingers, then steadied his hand against Walker’s arm again, forcing himself to slow down. Every once in a while, he’d curse, leading Bob to apologize profoundly.
And at long last, Bob was able to close the wound and slap a large piece of gauze over it.
Then, they stared at each other.
They’ve done it.
They managed to actually do it.
Holy shit.
Before Walker could think about it, he reached out with his good arm and patted Bob on the back. “Holy shit, I think we actually did it. We actually got away with it without anyone figuring it out.”
Bob blinked at him, like the words took a second to land, then let out a shaky, almost disbelieving laugh, shoulders dropping all at once as the adrenaline finally started to bleed off.
“I know,” he said, a little breathless. “I thought—honestly, I thought Yelena would catch on.”
“I know, she’s usually—”
“Is this blood on the ground?”
Walker and Bob promptly froze, staring at each other in horror.
Oh no.
That was Ava’s voice coming from the common room and drifting down to medbay.
Then that means—
“Is that a gun?” Yelena called out next. “Alpine, drop it. Are you covered in blood?”
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
“Whose blood did she roll around in?” Alexei questioned.
The stupid fucking cat!
Walker stared at Bob, and he stared back.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
“Didn’t Bucky say he was going t-to check the cameras or something?” Bob whispered, voice going thin.
Walker’s expression went flat. “He did.”
Which meant—
A sharp crackle cut through the room as the comms system kicked on.
“Walker. Bob.”
Bucky’s voice, low and unmistakably controlled, echoed through the medbay speakers.
Both of them jolted and were already moving before Bucky could say anything.
Walker pushed off the table too fast, the room tilting hard enough that he had to catch himself on the counter. “Go, go, go!”
“I am going,” Bob rushed, grabbing the first aid kit and immediately shoving it back into place as if that would somehow undo everything. However, because it just wasn’t Walker’s night at all, they didn’t get to make it out of the medbay before Yelena was already there, fuming while Alpine made her way inside—plopping down in front of Walker and purring, completely soaked in his own blood on her pretty snow-white fur.
God, Walker really, really hated today.