Whumptober Day 8 - Stab Wound

Whumptober day 8 - Stab Wound

My eight fill for @whumptober2019​, where Bucky is a doctor and Tony is a little less rich and famous. Also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

By now, Bucky had been a doctor for a while, and he had plenty of experience being professional.

Which didn't explain the instant rush of attraction he felt when he saw his newest patient. True, Bucky was pansexual. Also true, his patient was undeniably gorgeous. But there were boundaries, and he’d never once had a problem with them.

Until Anthony Stark was brought in on a stretcher, bleeding from a stab wound to his arm and still looking bright and lively.

Just as quickly as his feelings appeared, they were crushed when he was immediately followed in by a beautiful redhead that was obviously beyond worried about him. The brief hope of the slightest family resemblance was quickly dashed, and the way the two of them spoke to one another made their mutual fondness more than clear.

“I’m just saying it won’t take more than a few stitches,” Mr. Stark was saying, smiling reassuringly at his companion.

“And I’m saying you’re staying here until they say you’re safe to go and not a moment sooner,” she replied instantly, looking sternly down at him. Then, her attention turned to Bucky. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?”

Pushing his personal issues aside, Bucky nodded at her, trying for his best and most professional smile. “Certainly ma’am. I’m Dr. Barnes, and I’ll be taking care of Mr. Stark for the evening.”

“Good luck on that,” she told him wryly, casting an amused look at the man in question. “He’s never liked hospitals.”

“He’s right here, thank you very much,” he huffed, eyes narrowed. Bucky wanted to smack himself when the phrase ‘offended kitten’ popped into his head. He was a professional.

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” he nodded. The full force of his patient’s eyes hit him, and it took everything he had to pretend to be unaffected. “Let’s have a look, shall we? See if we need to send this through to our radiology department to see if anything vital was hit, or if you were right and a couple of stitches will do the trick.”

“I swear, I could’ve just gone home and put a band-aid on it,” Mr. Stark shrugged.

Bucky wasn’t too surprised to see his partner puff up with anger. “You got stabbed, Tony,” she hissed. “That requires a little more than a band-aid.”

“It was a light stabbing?” he tried, wilting a little in the face of her obvious rage.

Telling a woman she sounded like a balloon furiously deflating was likely to get him killed, which was why Bucky made a note to himself never to mention the thought crossing his mind in that moment. “I am going to get myself something to drink, and you are going to let this nice doctor take care of you, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” was the immediate reply. Despite his laconic treatment of his wound, Mr. Stark was clearly not foolish enough to treat his partner the same way.

“Honestly,” she muttered, stalking out on heels so high Bucky rather worried about her ankles.

“Sorry about that,” Mr. Stark spoke up once she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear him. “I tried telling her it wasn’t so bad, but she insisted on coming to the hospital.”

“How about you let me be the judge of that, huh?” Bucky said with a grin he only partially had to force as he turned his attention to the wound. As much as he was disappointed that nothing could come of his feelings, the byplay of the two of them arguing couldn’t help but amuse him. (And if he kind of wanted to banter with Mr. Stark the same way, well, that was really not something he should be thinking about.)

Only a few minutes ago, Bucky had mused over the way Mr. Stark’s attention had just about stunned him. It had nothing on the grin now on that gorgeous face, however, or the way his brown eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. “I suppose you did study for this,” the man joked.

“Years,” he managed to joke back in return. “Multiple years of blood, sweat, tears and study debt to tell you that you need a little more than a band-aid for this.”

“Aww,” he pouted, and that shouldn’t be so attractive on a full-grown man. “Only a little though, right?”

He shouldn’t be flirting with a taken man, Bucky knew, but it was hard to resist when the taken man was this attractive. “So eager to get out of here, Mr. Stark?”

“Like Pepper said - I’m not too fond of hospitals,” he admitted with a half-shrug. Then, he grinned at Bucky again, making his heart rate go up a little more than was entirely comfortable. “Though if all doctors were this handsome, they wouldn’t be half as bad.”

And that was outright flirting, wasn’t it? Except he should be with the woman he came in with - Pepper, he’d called her. Which meant he shouldn’t be flirting with Bucky, and if he did, he was not the kind of guy Bucky should want to be flirting with.

Some of his thought process must’ve shown on his face, because Mr. Stark grimaced. “Sorry, I’ve been told I can be too much. Don’t mind me, just… thought you seemed interested, no biggie if you’re not. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he rambled, seeming dejected more than anything.

Really, Bucky should just finish doing his job and let it go. But he found he couldn’t. “It’s not that… I just thought that you and your companion were…”

“Oh.” Brown eyes opened wide in realization. “You thought Pepper and I are… No, no, we’re friends, and colleagues, but we’re not together,” he explained, and it was odd how utterly relieved Bucky felt at that.

And while he still had some stitches to do, once Tony Stark wasn’t his patient anymore… Well, he’d be free to ask him out then, wasn’t he? “Well then, I am afraid I do have to inform you that a relationship between a doctor and his patient is not allowed,” Bucky told him, continuing immediately when he noticed a faint hint of sadness on his face. “After those stitches are in, though…”

The smile he got in return made him worry he’d need a doctor of his own if he were to start a relationship with Tony Stark.

He thought that would be worth it, though.

Day 12 and 13

Busy day yesterday so I made it up for it today!

Buckys size changes because i cant stay consistence  (ﾉ´ｰ`)ﾉ

Whumptober day 1 - Shaky Hands

My first fill for @whumptober2019, also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

Cursing softly, Tony tried not to cry. He knew he needed sleep - even being used to going without for long times, this had been too long. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until he’d fixed this.

Picking up the soldering iron once more, he gritted his teeth as he tried to still his shaking hands enough to attach the wire he’d been meaning to. He had to swallow a whimper when he failed yet again, adding another burn to his increasingly injured hands.

Why was he so useless?

Before he could completely descend into panic, a voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

“Doll?” Bucky sounded concerned, and Tony’s exhaustion made it so he sounded further away than he truly was - only a few steps away, face worried. “You need to rest,” he told Tony, more kindly than he deserved.

“I can’t,” he choked out, and he could feel the way the trembling was starting to spread through the rest of his body. “Not until… I have to fix this.”

“Sweetheart…” Now, Bucky approached, gently taking the soldering iron from his hand and putting it in its stand. Tony didn’t even have the strength to resist, even though he should, and it felt like a miracle that he managed to swallow his rising tears. “It’s not your fault.”

Tony broke. With a choked-off sob, he fell against Bucky, whose arms immediately wrapped around him. “I should’ve…”

“You did everything you reasonably could,” Bucky told him, sounding absolutely certain. “Because you never do anything less. If anything, you keep trying to do too much.”

“But if I’d improved the body armor sooner…”

“Then you wouldn’t have been able to design those new and improved Widow’s Bites that won our last fight. Or that water sanitizer that’s going to help endless amounts of people, in Flint and in other countries as well. Or the improved plating on Rhodes’ armor that saved him two weeks ago. You have limited time and energy, sweetheart, and you’re not obliged to spend all of that energy trying to help others. You do more than you should already, and we know that. As heroes, we have volunteered to risk our lives trying to save others, and it is not your fault when someone else decides they want to do bad things.”

All of it rang true, and Tony knew all of those had been necessary inventions as well. But he couldn’t help but think that if he’d only done a little bit more, been a little bit better…

“Please, sweetheart. You need to sleep,” Bucky nearly begged.

Part of him wanted to insist on staying in the workshop, on making sure no one would ever be able to hurt any of their teammates again. Another, more reasonable part of him that sounded like some combination of Rhodey, Pepper and Bucky was telling him that there was never a guarantee in the kind of world they lived in, and he would be able to help out more when he was rested and not constantly trying to solder his own fingers instead of the wires he was aiming for.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked, muffled into Bucky’s chest and nearly inaudible. His still-shaking hands, gripping the soldier’s shirt, seemed to be hurting even more now, and he knew he should put some cream on them before sleeping in order to make sure they healed quicker.

“As long as you want me to,” Bucky promised, his own face buried in Tony’s hair. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

Later, as Tony dropped off, he sighed at the feeling of strong hands massaging cream into his own. “Love you,” he managed to mumble before fading away completely, secure in the fact that Bucky was there for him, cared about him, and had promised to stay.

Whumptober day 2 - Explosion

My second fill for @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

Twelve seconds.

It only took him one second to think it all through. More time, and he probably would have been able to defuse the bomb. One minute would have been enough.

But he didn't have one minute, and it looked like it'd wipe out half of Brooklyn, if not all of it, when it went off.

They'd evacuated the immediate area, but that wouldn't be enough. Not even close.

Three more seconds and he'd stabilized the power source enough that he could move it without it instantly exploding in his arms.

Two more seconds to exit the building safely, without destabilizing the foundation.

That left him with six seconds to get as far away from civilization as possible.

"Iron Man, what's going on?" he heard Steve demanding over the comms as he bolted off as quickly as the armor could go, out over the Atlantic where hopefully no one would get hurt.

Except him.

"Emergency detour," he informed them. "Mind the 'bang'."

"What -" he could hear Bucky starting to ask, but there simply wasn't enough time.

With one second left, he threw it as far away as possible, arms coming up in front of his face and chest to protect himself as much as possible. He knew it wouldn't be enough.

It went off with a flash that just about blinded him. After that, there was nothing.

(He didn't feel himself hitting the water, where he started to sink quickly. He didn't feel the water entering the armor through the damage caused by the bomb. He didn’t feel the way Thor grabbed him, dragging him up and out of the water and back to the Coney Island beach, where the other Avengers were waiting for them.)

(He didn’t feel the way they carefully took off the pieces of the armor, keeping him as stable as possible, to get him ready for the ambulance. He didn’t hear Bucky begging him to hold on, to please live. He didn’t notice the way Steve had to hold Bucky back when Tony was taken away, assuring him they’d join him in the hospital as soon as they could.)

(He didn’t see the tears on Bucky’s face as the doctors told the Avengers about his injuries. He didn’t feel the way Natasha stroked his hair as he lay in the hospital bed or the way Bucky held his hand ever-so-gently. He didn’t hear the way Clint rambled at him to have something to fill the silence or the way Steve told him he’d done well even though no one was happy with this result either. He didn’t smell the food Bruce had made in hopes of waking him up. He didn’t taste the potion Thor had brought in hopes of saving his life.)

The first thing he felt was pain. It was like there was no part of his body that hadn’t been injured. Then, his brain desperate for something else, anything else, he could feel the way a hand was holding his.

When he opened his eyes, infinitely grateful that the lights were down, the first thing he saw was Bucky, head resting beside his leg as he slept restlessly.

As much as he was hurting, he put in all the effort he could in order to squeeze his hand around Bucky’s. He was not surprised when his boyfriend shot up immediately, eyes red and hair a mess. “Tony…” His voice was rough, either from sleep or from worry, but the relief was obvious.

Aware of the fact that he would not be able to talk, not with how much his throat was hurting, Tony shot him a crooked smile.

It was enough.

Whumptober day 3 - Delirium

My third fill for @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

There were honestly a lot of reasons Tony didn’t like board meetings. To start with, they were either incredibly boring or, if they weren’t, they tended to be incredibly frustrating. Not to mention they brought back plenty of unpleasant memories having to do with either Howard or Stane, as well as unpleasant memories of the way previous members of the board had treated him when he was younger.

Right now, though, one of the reasons he disliked board meetings the most was the fact that it meant interacting with people, which meant catching their illnesses.

Which was why he was currently hiding away from the other Avengers and feeling increasingly terrible.

Being ill had always been a bit of an issue for him, especially since both of his parents had made it fairly obvious that they did not appreciate him being more of an inconvenience than he already was. Jarvis, in contrast, had always been more than considerate.

As a result, he tended to isolate himself from most people when feeling unwell. On the other hand, he had a tendency of being very clingy and affectionate with the ones he did trust.

Tony whimpered, trying to find a way to lie down that did not somehow hurt. Fever always made his skin more sensitive than usual, and even his expensive sheets felt like sandpaper at the moment. Wet, uncomfortable sandpaper that was either too hot or too cold. He just wanted it to be over already, to be able to think properly again and to be able to get up without getting so dizzy he had to lie down again immediately.

“I have sent DUM-E up with something for you to drink, Sir,” JARVIS informed him. “If you do not ingest some liquids within the next half an hour, I will be forced to call for assistance.”

Another whimper escaped him, and he could feel the way his thoughts were slipping. He found himself simultaneously wishing that someone would be there to help, to make him feel better, and wishing to be left utterly alone in his misery because he’d just be a burden to everyone else.

He sobbed softly, turning around yet again in hopes this position would be marginally more comfortable. It didn’t work, unfortunately.

Soft beeping from the doorway alerted him to DUM-E - no matter what else, he’d always know that sound, and he managed to bring up a trembling smile as the bot approached far more slowly than he usually would. In his claw, he was carefully holding a bottle of water with a straw in it, for easier drinking.

“I can’t,” he found himself sobbing - it was too much, too hot, too cold, too painful. He couldn’t bring himself to even hold up his arm to grab the bottle, and the thought alone of trying to drink made him nauseous.

DUM-E’s soft beeping became a little more insistent, and he tried to lift his hand to grab the bottle, only to miss. Later, he could only be grateful that DUM-E was still holding it, meaning he only spilled a little of it, but it was enough. The cold water hitting his face hurt, and suddenly he was back in Afghanistan, face wet and hurting all over and feeling trapped.

There were voices - one, at first, and then more of them, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. The words sounded foreign, unfamiliar, and he gritted his teeth in order not to whimper. “No,” he insisted, trying to sound so much stronger than he felt. “No.”

But there were hands on his arms, holding him down, and he cried out. He couldn’t… He couldn’t. He’d barely survived the first time, he couldn’t do this again, please.

Everything hurt, and he was stuck right back in one of his worst nightmares.

Cold hit him, and he whimpered with pain. It was good, because he was burning, but it hurt, and he had no idea what was going on and he wanted all of it to stop. And then, blissfully, slowly, he started sinking away, the fear and the pain and the heat and the cold slowly backing up until there was only peaceful darkness.

The last thing he heard was a soft “we’ll take care of you, Tony.”

Whumptober day 10 - Unconscious

My tenth fill for @whumptober2019​, also available on Ao3.

----- ----- -----

For a regular, unenhanced human, Tony was in very good shape. It didn’t help that he had plenty of enhanced people to regularly compare himself with, and others who were just plain younger, but he did take some pride in his condition. The suit didn’t do everything for him, and he was still an engineer at the core.

But he had to admit that there were limits to his endurance. He didn’t like to admit as much, and he would push those limits if he felt it was needed, but they did exist.

And he was hitting those limits pretty hard at the moment.

It had been a few hours since escaping, and Bucky still hadn’t woken up from whatever they’d given him to keep him out. No doubt they’d thought he could be dangerous when actually awake, which would have been true. Unfortunately for them, they hadn’t considered Tony could be dangerous as well.

That had been their mistake, honestly. Except he just wanted Bucky to wake up.

“C’mon Snowflake,” he begged, breathing heavily with exhaustion. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this, but he also knew that he couldn’t let their kidnappers catch them again. So he was taking a brief break, hopefully waking Bucky up, and then they’d be on the move again. “Please wake up?”

But there was no movement, and Tony knew they had to move again.

Grimacing, he pulled Bucky back into the fireman hold he’d been using. Of everything he’d tried, it was the most sustainable while also keeping up his speed.

Every once in a while, between heavy breathing, he let out a faint “please”. He’d have talked to Bucky the entire way, but he simply didn’t have the energy for it. Not if he wanted to get them somewhere safer.

His muscles strained, but he gritted his teeth. He could do this. For once, he could be the strong one in this relationship. For once, he could do something for Bucky instead of the other way around. All he had to do was keep moving, no matter how much it hurt. One foot in front of the other, and again, and again.

Whimpering, Tony could feel the way his legs were shaking. But he didn’t have time to take another break, not so briefly after his previous one.

In the end, he didn’t have a choice. His exhaustion, Bucky’s weight, and the uneven ground finally won, and his ankle buckled underneath him. It took everything he had not to cry out at the pain, and he only barely managed to make sure he took the brunt of the fall and not Bucky.

“Please,” he whimpered, not caring how pathetic he sounded. He’d been walking for hours, exhausted and hurting and unsure of where to go. And now he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to carry his own weight anymore, let alone Bucky’s. He wasn’t sure if the ankle was broken or just sprained, but he had enough experience with either option that he knew things had just gotten a lot more difficult.

“Bucky, Snowflake, darling, sweetheart, please wake up. I need you,” he begged. But whatever they’d given him was strong enough to keep even a supersoldier down, and Tony buried his face into Bucky’s chest in an attempt to stave off the tears. “Please…”

There was no response.

“Alright, I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I am Iron Man. Pain does not exist. I’m gonna get myself and my boyfriend to safety, and then he’s gonna wake up, and I’m gonna have him give me a massage, and there will be a warm bath, and I will tell Natasha to decimate those assholes and she will, and I’ll get Clint to make me his special hot chocolate, and it will be lovely.” As he muttered to himself, he pushed himself up again on trembling arms. “Just a little more and everything will be back to the way it should be.”

Biting back his cry of pain, he pulled Bucky’s unconscious body onto his back again.

“Just a little more.”