Pre-winteriron - Tumblr Posts

After escaping HYDRA, Bucky needs a place to lay low. Looking for an apartment doesn't go entirely according to plan, but, well... He needed a disguise anyway, right? 

My first fill for the @buckybarnesbingo, square K1 - Recovering Bucky. Because I felt like being a little silly.

When Tony notices he's being followed on his way home, he calls Rhodey to help him out. Except it turns out he didn't, not quite.

Fills square A1 - Dark Alleys for the @tonystarkbingo; square O2 - Wrong Number for the @winterironbingo; square C2 - Protectiveness for the @buckybarnesbingo; and day 2 (completely out of order, I know… Sorry xD ) - College AU for the @winteriron-week.

In which Tony experiences the less fortunate aftereffects of Hanahaki disease when having a talk with the rogues.

Fills square R1 - [picture of Iron Man and Captain America fighting] for my @tonystarkbingo and finishes this story :) Thank you for being there with me!!

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.

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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.

Whumptober day 21 - Laced Drink

For the twenty-first fill for @whumptober2019, a pre-WinterIron college AU where the Avengers are all friends. Please be careful if the subject bothers you. Also available on Ao3.

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Initially, they hadn't been too sure about Tony Stark.

They knew of him, of course - everyone on campus did. But the things they'd heard weren't generally good, and then there were the pictures...

But then he'd ended up taking one of the same business classes as Phil and Natasha's friend Pepper, and to their collective astonishment, a few weeks later she ended up bringing him to one of their gatherings.

As hesitant as they all were, they tried to keep an open mind - if Pepper liked him, then he couldn’t be too bad, right?

And he wasn’t. He really, really wasn’t. In contrast with everything they’d heard about him, he ended up being nice, and funny, and incredibly sweet. It was an effort to make sure he didn’t pay for everything, and every single time he responded as though they were some kind of saints for not making him pay. Even his intelligence, which had been rumored to be a lot thanks to his father’s money, was more than obvious.

All of them were somewhat disturbed with the difference between the rumors and the actual kind of person Tony was. It wasn’t hard to tell that the things that were said about him, both behind his back and to his face, affected Tony negatively.

Whenever people responded negatively to him, there was an almost imperceptible flinch. He acted like he brushed it off, but he was always quieter for the rest of the day, more withdrawn.

That, combined with the fact that he was actually a little younger than them despite working on his second doctorate, left the entire group rather protective of him. And it wasn’t even like they needed to do all that much - Bucky, Natasha and Pepper had glares that would chase even the most persistent idiots away, and the disappointed looks of Steve and Phil were legendary. Besides that, a lot of people were rather hesitant about messing with the combined muscle mass of Bucky, Steve, Thor, Sam and Clint, let alone the murderous vibes Natasha could give off.

No, most people had learned better than to mess with Tony, and it seemed to do him a world of good. His smiles were larger and more genuine, and the vibrant look in his eyes was honestly a reward on its own.

Which was why they weren’t prepared for the party.

Despite having grown closer, none of them had asked about the pictures. They guessed it might have to do with Tony being affectionate with those he cared about, and honestly desperate enough for kindness that he’d go a little further than he should. And perhaps that was part of it in some cases, but certainly not all of them.

They’d honestly been having a great time, dancing as a group and separately. Tony was practically bouncing between all of them, vibrant and smiling, and even Bruce was smiling, despite not usually being too comfortable in crowded places. Every once in a while, one of them would break off to dance with someone else for a bit before drifting back to the others. It was honestly one of the most fun parties any of them had ever been to.

And then Tony started acting weird.

Bucky was the first one to notice the way he seemed less energetic than before. His first thought was honestly that someone might have said something, since that tended to bring Tony down, but he’d been smiling not five minutes ago and had been dancing with Clint and Thor since then.

Natasha was the second to notice, if only because she became aware of Bucky focusing on Tony with a frown. The fact that she stopped dancing with her meant Pepper noticed as well, and now it was the three of them watching Tony.

Next to notice was Thor, which made sense, since it happened when Tony stumbled straight into him. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head a bit as if to wake himself up.

By now, they were all moving closer to him, either having noticed how unsteady he was or having noticed the others watching.

“Tony?” It was Pepper who spoke, Bucky moving right next to Tony in case his swaying led to him nearly falling over again. Looking into his eyes, they were duller than they should be, the usual spark of intelligence replaced with exhausted confusion.

“Pep?” He shook his head again, but his eyes wouldn’t quite focus. He swayed against Bucky, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. “Wha’s wrong?”

Her face carefully neutral, Natasha moved to stand in front of him. She held up a hand. “Can you give me a high five? First left, then right, please.”

He tried, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. Bucky could feel how much Tony was leaning into him by now, to the point where he wasn’t sure if Tony would be able to stay upright on his own.

Bucky shared a look with Natasha, but before they could decide on how to go about dealing with this, two people showed up next to them.

Both of them had brown hair, the man’s a little lighter than the woman’s. She was the one who spoke up, the smile on her face just the slightest bit off. “Is your friend alright? He looks rather tired, doesn’t he?” she asked sympathetically. “If you want, we can take him to one of the rooms to sleep it off - that way, you can go ahead and keep enjoying the party.”

The guy started moving before she was even finished talking, reaching out as if to grab Tony, and the glare Bucky sent him could have cracked a rock straight through the middle. “I’ve got him,” he stated, voice making it more than clear that he wasn’t letting go.

“Just trying to help.” He’d raised his hands upon seeing the glare on Bucky’s face. “Thought he might be more comfortable upstairs - give him some time to sleep off the alcohol, you know?”

Before Bucky could let his fist get acquainted with the guy’s face, Natasha spoke up. Her fake smile was far more realistic, though Bucky knew her well enough to notice the calculating glint in her eyes. “Thank you for your assistance,” she told them, her voice smooth. “And you are?”

The look the two of them shared was almost too quick to see - almost. “Sally and Tom,” the woman lied to their faces. “Are you sure you don’t want us to just take him somewhere? Wouldn’t want this to ruin your evening, after all, since you seemed to be having a great time out there, and it’s no problem for us to take him.”

Pepper cut in then, a smile on her face that was just a little too sharp. “Thank you, but it’s not nearly as much fun when we’re not all together, you see?”

They shared another quick look, before apparently coming to a decision. “Alright, just trying to be nice,” she told them, holding up her hands defensively. “No need to get all upset about it - not our fault your friend drank a little more than he could handle.”

“I just bet it isn’t,” Natasha told them kindly. By now, the others had more than gotten the implication of what was going on and had just about surrounded Tony and Bucky in a protective wall.

Although her eyes narrowed slightly, ‘Sally’ let the comment slide, walking off with a shrug. ‘Tom’ walked after her, though he did look back at them one more time - by then, Thor had maneuvered his impressive bulk in front of where Tony was leaning heavily into Bucky, so the guy turned back around soon enough, whispering furiously with ‘Sally’.

“I’m going to take them down,” Pepper informed them matter-of-factly. “I am going to find out who they are, and I will make their lives a living hell.”

“We,” Natasha corrected, face and voice both so neutral that it was scary.

“For now, we will be taking Tony back somewhere safe,” Bucky interrupted. The fact that Tony’s eyes were still open was the only indication that he wasn’t unconscious, and Bucky was honestly worried about him. “Where we will keep an eye on him to make sure he’s alright.”

Fortunately, all of them agreed. He honestly preferred for all of them to be there to keep Tony safe. And if it had the added benefit of not being overheard while planning someone’s downfall while also allowing Bucky to be there to plan right along with them, well…

No one hurt their friends.

Whumptober day 23 - Bleeding Out

For my 23rd fill for @whumptober2019, I wrote this pre-WinterIron story in an AU with supernatural creatures. It’s also available on Ao3.

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It had happened so quickly that Tony honestly couldn’t quite recall what happened. One moment he was calmly walking down the street; the next, he found himself lying in an alley, bleeding out from multiple stab wounds.

Weakly, he tried to sit up, only to fall back down the one inch he’d managed when the pain hit him.

“Help?” he tried, but he couldn’t quite manage to speak any louder than a whisper.

Closing his eyes, he wondered if he should just resign himself to his fate. His attacker had taken his phone, though there was no way the guy would manage to hack his way in - JARVIS himself kept Tony’s phone safe and inaccessible to anyone but him.

At least it meant that JARVIS would be able to find the person who’d done this to him.

He wasn’t sure why, either. It had occurred to him that it might be a mugging, but his wallet was still safe in his pocket. Only his phone had been taken, making sure he wouldn’t be able to call for help.

Maybe it was because of who he was. An actual assassination attempt for being Tony Stark. He had no illusions about being perfect, but… He’d been helping, right? His weapons kept American soldiers safe, and his multitude of other inventions made lives easier and more comfortable. More and more, he’d been moving to the fields that had truly interested him when he’d been learning about engineering and programming.

He thought he’d been doing better.

No words had been exchanged, not as far as he could recall. Just gloved hands and a sharp knife, before he was left alone to die.

No reason had been given at all.

Cold was creeping up on him, but he couldn’t even shiver. Instead, all he could do was look up at the dark sky.

Weirdly enough, the thought hit him that he would’ve preferred to die under the light of the stars, however difficult they might be to see in the middle of New York City - instead, there were clouds obscuring them, making the sky look empty and dreary.

He tried to swallow, failing and coughing instead. It made pain rush through him once again, and he couldn’t help his stifled moan. Damn, but he didn’t want to die. Not yet. There was so much he still wanted to do, so much he still thought he could improve. Now that he was finally old and settled enough that the board listened to him when he suggested avenues other than weapons, he’d been getting to where he’d wanted to take Stark Industries since he’d been young.

He didn’t want to die yet.

Focusing on the clouds, however dreary they were, he tried to keep on breathing. The longer he could manage to keep surviving, the more time there was for someone to perhaps find him and get him to a hospital.

There wasn’t a lot he could move, but he did still have his expensive leather wallet and a somewhat functioning right arm. So, trying to keep his breathing steady, he slowly reached for his wallet, letting his arm fall back down once he’d gotten a hold of it. Victory. Then, slowly, he started slapping it onto the ground.

It didn’t make much of a sound, but at least it was more than his voice could produce.

Damn, Pepper would be so pissed at him. Not to mention Rhodey. And Obie, too.

He just hoped Happy wouldn’t feel too bad for suddenly falling ill. That wasn’t something he could help, after all, and there was no way Tony was forcing the man to keep acting as a bodyguard when he should be home and resting.

As he grew increasingly cold, he just found himself wishing he could get a message to them somehow. Not even to save him anymore - he wasn’t sure that was even possible, not with his injuries and the amount of blood he’d lost, though he was still determined to keep trying. But just to let them know that he cared, and that he knew how incredibly lucky he had been to have them in his life and caring for him.

Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad anymore. The pain was starting to fade out of awareness, and instead he mostly felt tired. It was becoming a struggle to keep his eyes open, and his slow tapping with the wallet was tapering off into a silence filled only with his increasingly strained breathing.

Until a shadow appeared above him.

It wasn’t much of a shadow, not with the lack of light, but it woke Tony up just a little. Not enough to speak, not with the way every breath was a struggle by now, but enough to look at the man that had appeared.

He was attractive - shoulder-length brown hair, intense light eyes, and a highly attractive stubble adorning a jawline that had Tony envious. His broad build and dark clothes should probably have felt threatening, but he was honestly beyond that. Instead, he found himself wondering if it would be possible to experience one last touch, one last confirmation. If it would be possible not to die on his own.

“Oh, sweetheart… That don’t look good,” he said softly, and Tony managed the slightest shiver at the sound of his voice. It was like a warm blanket surrounding him, leaving him feeling peaceful and comforted.

Even more than before, he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he wanted to savor every moment of it.

Which was why he could observe the contemplative look on the man’s face as he looked down at Tony, as well as the exact moment he appeared to come to a decision. As well as the exact moment fangs descended from the sides of his mouth.

Rather than feeling afraid, or threatened, Tony just gave into it. The touch of lips on the wound that appeared to have just missed his heart was more gentle than he thought anyone but Rhodey had touched him in years. It didn’t take long, not with how much he’d bled already, and for a brief moment he wondered if the vampire had decided to simply take advantage of the situation and drain him completely.

Then there was a wrist in front of his mouth, the tiniest slice releasing a clear liquid. The moment the taste hit him, Tony couldn’t help but latch on, drinking as deeply as he could in his weakened state.

Vaguely, he was aware of a large hand cradling his head as he sucked, stroking his hair just a little. He leaned into it just a little, aware he was probably acting like a cat desperate for attention, but he couldn’t help himself. Already, it felt like coming home.

Still incredibly gently, the vampire pulled his wrist away. It was tempting to follow, to taste some more of that ambrosia, but that would mean pulling away from the hand still stroking his hair. So he leaned into it, into the vampire’s body. He knew it shouldn’t be, but to him, it felt warm and safe.

As the Change set in, he could feel the way he was picked up gently in a bridal carry, allowing his head to fall against that strong chest. In response, the arms tightened just a little to pull him even closer.

There was a soft whisper, barely audible. “I’ll take care of you now, sweetheart.”

Then, everything went black.

Whumptober day 24 - Secret Injury; 25 - Humiliation; 26 - Abandoned

Another fill for @whumptober2019​, and another one that’s pre-WinterIron and an amalgamation of multiple prompts. It’s also available on Ao3.

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"Never again," Clint groaned.

From around the Quinjet there were sounds of agreement, though none of them had the energy to do more than that.

Today's battle had been simply awful, and none of them had gotten out of it without at least a few bruises, if not worse. Hours upon hours of fighting meant they were also completely exhausted.

Most of them had collapsed where they'd been standing when the fight finally ended. Bucky and Natasha had held on by a single stubborn thread, but Tony had carried all of the others to the Quinjet in the armor, trying to get them as comfortable as possible before getting behind the controls and starting to fly them back somewhere they would have medical attention they could trust.

Once he had the jet in the air and set to fly under JARVIS' control for a while, Tony stared out of the window for a little while. Then, shutting his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he got up again.

The Quinjet might not have a large amount of medical supplies, but it did have some emergency things stocked. "J, keep track and order new supplies." He knew he didn't have the energy at the moment to make note of whatever he was using, let alone remember it to replace it later. Fortunately, that was why he had JARVIS.

Sam was the first he saw to, if only because the gash on his arm still hadn’t stopped bleeding. He honestly didn’t imagine it would without stitches, but it was at least important to staunch the flow a little. So, after rinsing it out quickly to make sure there would be as little dirt in there as possible, he smeared some disinfectant cream over there and wrapped it up. The doctors would do better later, but for now it was important to keep him from bleeding too much.

“Any other big wounds?” he asked, managing to sound far less tired than he felt.

“Nothing open,” Sam admitted. “Bruises, wrist might be sprained or broken.”

Grabbing one of the multitudes of cold packs was quickly done, and after putting it down on Sam’s wrist and seeing him relax, Tony moved on to Steve. His supersoldier healing was already at work repairing the damage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of it.

It took some bandages and cold packs, but soon Steve relaxed at least some. Bucky had the same deal, though he did admit his leg might be broken as well. Since he honestly didn’t know enough to be sure of how to set a leg so it’d heal right, Tony just made a mental note to have it checked out by a doctor as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, he worked his way through all of them. Most of his work involved applying cold packs to wherever things hurt the most and hoping it’d help with the pain at least a little, since he didn’t want to play with medicine when the doctors might need to give some of them something and it could possibly interact. He did at least notice some of their strain easing a little, so he had to be doing something right.

Finally, Bruce only needed a blanket - the Hulk had taken damage, but that didn’t transfer to Bruce. But he was even more exhausted than usual, not even responding when Tony gently eased him up a little to drink a meal replacement shake. It was cautious work when he wasn’t entirely conscious, and Tony almost wanted to skip it, but he knew the Hulk spent enough energy that leaving Bruce to just sleep it off might mean he’d end up in the medical wing anyway due to a dangerously low blood sugar level. At least this way, he wasn’t in immediate danger, though it was likely he could still use an infusion for the first few hours.

“Dude… How?” Clint groaned as he finally stepped away from Bruce, empty packet in his hand.

“Regular insomniac,” Tony told him with a fair attempt at a grin.

“And a suit that protects you extremely well,” Sam noted, managing to sound both complementary and a little jealous.

“Regular genius insomniac,” he allowed. He couldn’t say he was too surprised when both Clint and Sam graced him with a look only slightly better than if they’d stuck out their tongues. His huff was close enough to laughter that it made both of them glare playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

“Very,” Sam deadpanned, but since Clint hissed out a “Yesssssssss” at the same time, he didn’t take it to heart.

“I mean, our protective suits are great, but it’s gotta help when you’ve got your mechanical suit to do a lot of the fighting.”

Tony just grinned at them. He was well-aware of how easy it was to assume the suit did most of the work, especially since he usually managed to look pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even after a long fight. It wasn’t always ideal, but he preferred it over having them worry about him.

Once they finally landed, he took them to medical one by one. Bruce, as expected, got an IV line and a bed to rest. He didn’t even wake up when Tony picked him up, so he was glad there were experts to look after Bruce now.

Sam got stitches for the gash in his arm and had, unfortunately, broken his wrist. Once that was taken care of, the doctors ended up setting a couple of bones for both Bucky and Steve, though their healing would have to take care of the rest. Little by little, Tony watched as his teammates were taken care of, the doctors busily working around all of them as they switched tasks smoothly.

Perhaps, for situations like these, he should see if there was any more trustworthy personnel that could work on the Avengers? They were enough after regular missions, but now even the less human members of their team needed extensive treatment.

Still, he was sure they were in good hands.

Abandoning them to the care of the doctors, Tony headed off to his workshop. Once the door closed behind him, JARVIS immediately spoke up. “Sir…”

“I know.”

Now that he didn’t have the others to worry about worrying, he didn’t bother putting in effort to keep the strain from his voice. Instead, he stumbled over to the corner he’d designed for when taking the armor off on his own was either too much or simply impossible.

“I would advise you to see a doctor, Sir,” JARVIS informed him as he went to work gently removing the armor.

“They’re busy with the others,” Tony dismissed him. “Not to mention that, even if my ribs are bruised or broken, there’s not a lot to do except take pain medication and cooling it.”

“They would be able to tell if anything was displaced, however. Not to mention there appear to be some other injuries as well that should be checked out, including but not limited to a possible fracture in your left arm and a sprained or broken right ankle.” JARVIS was matter-of-fact about it, and Tony knew he was right. He didn’t think anything was too bad, but without a scan, there was simply no way of being certain.

Still, he shook his head. “I’ll just take it easy for now. They’ve got the others to worry about. I’ll go see them later.”

It was obvious JARVIS disapproved, but rather than push it, he simply guided DUM-E to support Tony for a quick toilet visit before moving over to the couch. Then, he encouraged the ‘bot to grab some cold packs for the injured areas, as well as some bottled water. Tony was grateful for it, resolving to do something nice for his creations when he was feeling better.

One advantage of the suit was certainly that it tended to keep his bones in place, meaning he wasn’t too worried about anything starting to heal wrong. Especially in the few hours it would take for the doctors to take the best care of the others.

He dozed off a few times, but only slightly. The pain made it impossible to truly relax, and every breath hurt just enough to keep him awake despite his exhaustion.

“Sir, the doctors are done with taking care of the others,” JARVIS alerted him.

As he started to get up, he found that he simply… couldn’t. The exhaustion and pain made it so he could hardly even move his mostly uninjured right arm, let alone the rest of his body. So rather than getting up like he knew he should, he just remained where he was.

“Sir?”

He wasn’t too sure what to say. ‘I can’t move’ was incredibly embarrassing, but he’d also sort of promised to go see the doctors once they were free. “I… think my body might be a bit done with today?” he settled for, grimacing a little at how silly that sounded. “I’m trying, but…”

Before he could get too worried, or doze off again - it was honestly a toss-up at the moment - JARVIS announced he had a visitor. “Sergeant Barnes is at the workshop door, Sir.”

Frowning in confusion, Tony couldn’t help but let out a surprised “why?”.

“From what I can gather, he appeared concerned for you upon noticing you weren’t in the medical wing with everyone else. He then asked me if you were on your floor or in the workshop, and I informed him the latter was the case.”

Part of Tony was embarrassed to be seen like this, but another part of him was honestly warmed that Bucky had actually worried about him. It was that part that won out, nodding to JARVIS for permission to let the supersoldier in.

Of course, he regretted it almost immediately when Bucky frowned with concern, sharp eyes noting the multitude of cold packs that DUM-E had kept regularly taking off and reapplying.

“How hurt are you?” was the first question he asked, moving straight past worrying and into caring.

“I was going to see the doctors after they were done with all of you,” Tony justified himself.

At that, Bucky’s eyes softened just a little. “Not blaming you - your body, your choice. Not gonna pretend I like it, but you do what you think is best. Just worried about you.” He stepped closer, giving DUM-E a pat on his claw as the ‘bot came to say hello. “Docs are done with us though - nothing left to do but wait for everything to heal now. Steve and Thor are keeping an eye on the others for now, since we’re mostly healed already.”

His face felt like it was burning up, though he wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or embarrassment. “I… can’t move,” he admitted, and yeah, it was humiliation.

Despite the way worry sharpened his eyes, Bucky remained gentle and respectful. “Do you… I mean, are you okay with me helping you over there? Or is there anything else I can do?”

And yes, he was incredibly embarrassed. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught that needing help was weak, and that he should be able to do things on his own no matter what. But even though there was nothing he could do at the moment, even though his body didn’t even listen to him, Bucky did. Rather than let his concern take over, he asked Tony what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that Bucky would respect his decision even if he decided to just keep sitting there.

It was that respect that enabled him to overcome his embarrassment enough to nod just a little. “I… If you could? Support me?”

He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Bucky carrying him, no matter how much that might be the wiser option for his ribs. And rather than argue, Bucky just nodded, gently helping him off the couch and supporting him as much as possible while still allowing him to stand on his own.

If he had to pinpoint it, that was the moment that started to transform his basic attraction into more.

Yes, Tony knew it was his own fault that he was sitting here, shivering and clutching his blanket and feeling like he was about to break. Especially as it was becoming increasingly clear this wasn't just going to go away.

Fortunately, he had people who cared about him.

This is a work that was inspired by my feelings for the amazing people over at the @winterirondiscord, which I have been blessed to have been part of for one year today. Thank you all so much - you have made my life a better place!

It also fills square I3 - Touch Starved for the @winterironbingo and square Y4 - Hurt/Comfort for the @buckybarnesbingo and was partially inspired by the @whumptober2019 series that I am currently working on, which has touch-starved as one of the alternative prompts.

Whumptober day 30 - Recovery

My second-to-last fill for @whumptober2019​, a somewhat silly Pre-WinterIron AU where Tony goes to a rehabilitation center after getting heart surgery. It’s also available on Ao3.

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Rhodey and Pepper had been the ones to convince him to go to the Marvel Rehabilitation Center.

He’d argued at first. He’d managed to make it through the first operation, after all, and those circumstances had been less than ideal. This time he had anesthetics, and he wasn’t being tortured, and he had time to heal at his own pace instead of racing against time to try to figure out a way to escape.

When he’d said so, they’d only looked sad, which hadn’t been his intention. He just wanted to make it clear that he didn’t need any help, medical or psychological, because he could deal with it.

They had argued just as hard and, when outlining the many benefits of medical and psychological help as well as having a place where there would be other people around to keep him busy in medically appropriate ways did not work, they pleaded with him. And while he was great at saying ‘no’ to their arguments, he was incredibly weak to their pleas.

So the Marvel Rehab Center it was.

For the first few days, he’d hated it. He didn’t want to talk about his traumas (he would like to forget all about them) and he didn’t want any assistance (he would like to just work his way through everything like he usually did).

Still, he’d remembered his promise to his best friends, and so he tried. Marvel was huge, after all, dealing with all kinds of problems and people. So he figured that, if nothing else, he’d be able to find a way to be less bored. Rehab-appropriate diversion was what he’d been promised, and he’d find it even if it killed him.

The staff hadn’t been too pleased with the fact that he’d sort of gone missing for a few hours, but Tony figured it had been more than worth it (and he bet that if he asked the staff now, they’d agree - he’d been a lot calmer and more agreeable since).

Steve had been the first one he’d met. Steve was tiny and ready to throw down whenever and also suffered from a laundry list of illnesses that he had apparently thrown down with ever since he was born. Tony liked him instantly.

Bruce was the second one. From what Tony could gather, he’d had some bad history which had resulted in Dissociative Identity Disorder, with an alternate identity named Hulk. It was also easy to tell that Bruce was terrified of hurting anyone, and despised Hulk for his violent tendencies (though always towards objects rather than people). Besides that, though, he was also a brilliant scientist, and Tony had zero hesitation about hanging out with him as often as possible.

Natasha was the third, and Tony was honestly not entirely sure what was up with her. He guessed it had something to do with the suspicious way she tended to watch everyone, or the way she had a tendency of appearing this close to killing someone. But she’d looked lonely, and everyone had appeared to be afraid of her. Tony could basically feel Rhodey and Pepper facepalming in the distance as he approached her.

Clint was next. Clint was a disaster. Chaotic, depressed, and beyond clumsy. He also had the single best sense of humor Tony had ever found. He’d decided he was adopting Clint.

Sam was also depressed, as well as traumatized, from losing his best friend. He seemed to find part of his own purpose in helping out others at the Center and often led some sort of mindfulness group that Tony had said he would join only if Steve would. Considering the thought of Steve trying out mindfulness was laughable, he wasn’t anticipating that would be something to worry about.

Thor was loud and cheerful and had body dysmorphic disorder. He tried his best to be cheerful and it was clear that most of the other people found him overwhelming. The fact that he was incredibly tall and incredibly muscular didn’t help much. Thor laughed at Tony’s jokes when he made them and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough that he wondered if it had left a bruise.

Finally (and perhaps most importantly), there was Bucky. Bucky, who had seen war. Bucky, who had lost his left arm. Bucky, who had then been held as a prisoner of war. Bucky, who was ridiculously attractive and ridiculously sarcastic and ridiculously smart.

Tony had decided he wanted to marry Bucky.

He wasn’t in a hurry - it was clear Bucky was not comfortable with himself, didn’t feel like he was in a position to get into a relationship. But Tony was more than willing to wait if that was what it took, and eventually he’d be able to ask Bucky out and hope the other man would say ‘yes’ so Tony could get on with his twelve-step plan towards marrying him.

That evening, he’d texted Rhodey and Pepper. Met my future husband. You’ll love him.

He might not have wanted to go here, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not as he looked around at all of them. Not as Steve threatened to fight Thor, who looked at him like he was a particularly adorable puppy. Not as Clint knocked over their game board accidentally and Bruce facepalmed. Not as Sam and Bucky snarled at one another, looking about ready to tear each others’ throats out. Not even as Natasha pulled out a knife from somewhere (and he was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to have them) and told them all to shut the hell up and sit down before she made them.

In fact, he mused, he should send Rhodey and Pepper a thank-you card. Perhaps the others would even add a message of their own.