Avengers Sick-fics

Just a Graze - Bucky/Reader

Set: after civil war fix up

Hi!! It's been ages sorry! My final year of schooling is kinda busy... shocker I know.

Anyway, requests are taking some time to complete, but I found this half-finished draft and liked the look of it so I finished it this morning, hope you enjoy xx

———

"Yeah, thanks, Barnes. Really appreciate the help."

"No problem (L/N)."

(Y/N) ground her teeth as the infuriating ex-assassin sat back and watched as she took out agents alone.

"Play nice you two," Steve's voice filtered over the comms.

"Yeah, just help her out Barnes," Sam joined in.

Bucky grunted but joined the fray. (Y/N) hated to admit it, but he was rather useful to have around. Immediately, Barnes had his back behind hers, protecting (Y/N) as she protected him. Their fighting styles complimented each other as (Y/N) darted agilely at her enemies, returning quickly to her original position while Bucky dealt with the stronger opponents who got past her. The pair were quickly finished with only one snide comment when (Y/N) briefly stumbled and let out a pained wince.

———

Bucky couldn't help but notice (Y/N)'s limp. Did she get that when he wasn't helping her or when she was fighting on her own? It didn't matter, she was clearly injured and it was probably his fault.

Damn, why didn't he help sooner? Why didn't he protect her better?

"(Y/N). Injury?" Steve asked before Bucky could, always the leader, watching his pack.

(Y/N)'s eyes were bright when she grinned wolfishly and replied "just a graze. Much less than what those agents received."

But she winced when the plane hit turbulence and Bucky knew it wasn't just a graze. She trotted quickly off to her rooms when they arrived back at the compound before he could corner her and have her seek medical assistance. Before Steve could even debrief, in fact.

And (Y/N) always hung around for debrief, simply because her military training decreed it. To say Bucky was worried and feeling guilty was an understatement. He felt as though there was sweat running in rivulets down his back and as though he couldn't quite breathe properly. (Y/N) was undoubtedly injured, it was his fault and despite their turbulent relationship, Bucky was worried.

Maybe he did like the way (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with excitement. Maybe he did think she was too pretty for her own good. Maybe he even liked the way she walked, talked and fought. Maybe he liked (Y/N), but it didn't matter because she'd made it clear, on numerous occasions, that she did not like him.

Which was rather unfortunate, seeing as she occupied Bucky's mind at all hours.

———

It was about three days later that (Y/N) really took a downward turn. She'd become snappy and tired and had completely lost her appetite and Bucky knew she hadn't treated her injury properly.

He woke early one morning, long before the sun would rise, and had been making his way to the kitchen when it occurred. He could hear a sound, faintly, through the walls of the compound. Was it an intruder? Adrenaline flooded the assassin's system as he moved silently towards the sound, all dregs of sleep removed as the challenge took over his mind.

He reached an unmarked door and the sound became clearer. A word caught in-between sobs. Bucky hesitated but no one was around. Steve would go in.

Bucky found himself in a messy and dark room, illuminated by a rectangle of light escaping a room to the right. Clothes dumped on the floor where the wearer had taken them off and not bothered to even move them into a pile somewhere.