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The whole place was quiet. He didn’t know why he expected anything else.
Clint was asleep on the opposite side of the building, his next door neighbor worked the night shift. No one knew where he went tonight, no one was waiting for him to come home except Alpine who was asleep on his pillow and wouldn’t notice anything amiss until her food ran out.
There was no one to look at his broken arm or his fractured jaw. No one to care about the blood loss. And all because he hadn’t told anyone he was going on a mission. Because he was supposed to be retired.
He’d really fucked it all up, huh?
Sleep wanted him in the way a grave wanted something to fill it, the exhaustion tugging at his eyes as he forced one foot in front of the other through the apartment, through his bedroom, and into the bathroom where he finally looked at himself for the first time in days. A ghost- a young man long dead, dragging his corpse into the future because it’s the only thing he knew to do.
James Buchanan Barnes.
Status: Active
He needed someone else to check his arm. Natasha - no. No she’d want to know what he had done. She would want to help.
Steve would console him. Would ask too many questions. Would wonder why and stop him from doing what he needed to finish this horrible thing dangling over his head. He’d have to wonder if he shouldn’t just track down some super serum himself- let the anger consume him and turn his already weaponized body into something more monstrous.
Those thoughts were dangerous. Things he couldn’t come back from. Secrets he would never be able to keep.
He needed to go get Clint before he got worse. Dragging his feet, stumbling like an alley drunkard , he made his way to the hall. There was a body leaning against the wall, brain dripping from its skull. He walked through it.
It wasn’t real. It was someone once upon a time but it wasn’t real right then. Not with Clint visiting from the West Coast, safe and sound, probably snoring with his arms above his head - he shouldn’t wake him. That was the whole reason Bucky had insisted they stay in separate beds over the last week despite how much he wanted otherwise. Why he hadn’t seen his partner in person in five months even though he was just down the hall as of last Thursday.
His insomnia was bad and Clint deserved some rest.
They were going to go on a real date in a few days, Clint would find out later. He should wait.
But he also probably-definitely needed his arm set. He needed to know someone in his life was there because they wanted to be, not because they were manipulated into place. If there was anything Clint was good at it was foiling well laid plans.
He just… needed Clint. There was no shame in that even though his belly twisted with the perceived weakness.
No one answered when he knocked, resting his head against the doorframe for stability. Hearing aids are out…
One text at time, carefully spaced so the vibrations would mimic the Avenger’s call to action, Bucky sent.
Outside your door. Need help. Got hurt. Could use a hug. Sorry to wake you.
It did the trick. The door was yanked open and Clint was wide awake. He’d not been asleep at all by the looks of it and those sharp eyes swept him from head to toe.
“What the hell, man?” It was frustrated, a little worried and soft.
“Sorry.”
“Get in here.” Clint turned the lights on, motioned for him to take a seat on the open barstool. “Where are you hurt and am I allowed to call anyone else?”
“Jaw.” He hissed softly, “arm.” His ribs would heal, the bruises would fade. He was still only human though.
“Don’t talk.” The ice pack pressed to his face stung but the way Clint brushed a strand of hair out of the way was soft. It didn’t dim the anger in is eyes. “We might be able to avoid wiring your jaw if you take it easy. Now hold that while I get a look at the rest of you.”
Clint felt along his right arm with a grimace, watching for his flinch and feeling for anything misaligned. “I can’t convince you to go get an x-ray, can I?”
“Ng-uh.”
“Didn’t think so. Try to relax for me. I don’t think you need anything reset, I have a sling upstairs you can wear… but you need a shower first. Fucking hell, Bucky.”
The last thing he needed was a lecture. Not from him.
Clint chewed his words.
“We’re going to have a fucking discussion about running off alone. I don’t want to know - I - that’s a lie. I want to know what the hell you got into but you’re not going to tell me because you have a broken damn jaw and your signs suck one handed.” He was gaining speed with every word. Suddenly he just stopped and drew shoulders high around his ears then let them fall.
“I haven’t seen you all week.”
Gravity was getting stronger and stronger.
“Come here.” Before he could slide off the chair Clint’s arms wrapped around his waist gently. Lips pressed against his hair. The weeks of sleepless nights, the horrid knowledge that he was the pawn when he thought he was finally the knight - it was all so overwhelming. Throat closing. He was so tired.
“Let’s shower and get some sleep. You’ve had a hell of a day. Can you swallow a pill if I get you one?”
He could.
There was no thinking as he let himself be led to the bathroom. Stripped, soothed - Clint was steady for him. The warm water chased away the pain and the nightmare that was Fisk’s shadow falling over his back. Maybe he would sleep tonight. It was about time.
The towel was fluffy, the way his hair was wrapped up so very carefully spoke volumes.
Clint - his left hand raised, the metal still warm from the shower.
“I know. It’s okay. Later, yeah? Bedtime now.”
Bedtime. So damn simple.
Maneuvering his arm into a sling was annoying and slow but once it was cinched he felt better. Getting into bed was a bit of a tumble but eventually, leaning against Clint’s chest and a pile of pillows, he felt warm for the first time in days. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t lay on his stomach the way he preferred to sleep or that he needed to do a thousand things to reclaim the life he thought he’d built. None of that mattered in this room. He hadn’t lost anything here. Nothing needed to be chased.
Just the lips that pressed to his temple.
“I love you. I don’t have to be back west for a while, it’s like a test run for Kate and then I’m back here for good if they don’t burn down L.A. so whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” Promises. “I’ve got you.”
The dark was a little less quiet after that. Morning would not be so gentle.
But what else could he expect?