the escapees || bucky barnes

XXI: the smallest coffins are the heaviest

((A/N: Y'all are going to hate me for this chapter, just a warning. Major angst ahead.))

I wasn't prepared for what we found when we left Bucky's room.

We followed Sam through the winding hallways, me trying to keep up with my slightly still weak ankle. Bucky was attempting to help me limp along. It took a few minutes, but we eventually were able to reach the common room. We must have been quite the sight, me with my oddly large MIT sweatshirt and messy hair, Sam with his wild eyes and anxious tick, and Bucky with his large figure attempting to support my small one.

We came across Steve also darting through the common room, and he stopped shortly to speak with us.

"Do you know what's going on?" He asked, his tone serious.

"All I know is that Tony called us to the med bay," Sam responded, still speed-walking like an elderly woman going through a Los Angeles mall. "Other than that, I have no idea."

Steve gritted his teeth and followed us. Bucky was practically dragging me through the halls, and Sam's face was set in a nervous image. I felt like he was really feeding off the fear that it might've been someone like Nat. I doubted it, but I had my own worries. Hadn't Wanda been on that mission? But so was Vision, and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. She wasn't hurt, most likely. It didn't ease my nerves any more, though. Neither did the fact that I couldn't recall the other two members of the mission. So I just blindly followed Sam, not knowing the half of what we were going to walk into.

Alright, here's a bit of a confession time. I'm not great with people who are close to me dying. The only clear memory I have of my parents is them being shot in a bank, so you could understand why I don't like it. If I had to see somebody on the team dead, I don't know what would happen. Probably a breakdown. Possibly a period of depression. Definitely some sort of refusal of self-preservation instincts. Oh well.

We kept going, finding that there was nearly nobody around them. To be fair, nearly nobody came to the compound on Sundays, so it wasn't exactly odd. But the weird part about Tony's call was that once we got to the med bay, there wasn't anyone there. No emergency was in progress, no oddities around, only the usual awkward silence and nervous looks.

I groaned a little from my ankle, and Bucky helped me over to a table, easing me onto it and then sitting down next to me. Sam looked around, looked through all the closets and everything, and there wasn't anyone hiding. Steve stared apprehensively at the glass ceiling, as if waiting for something to happen.

"This is bullshit," Sam came back, looking quite pissed. "If Tony really had an emergency, he'd be here."

"He's probably right," Steve muttered. "He wouldn't just call us here to prank us, would he?"

"It's Stark," Bucky spoke up. "Who knows what he would do to make us look stupid."

"I dunno, Sarge. He's pretty pissed at me right now, so I doubt he's bullshitting. . ."

My voice trailed off as the sound of a helicopter slowly came through the air, slightly ripping my eardrums apart. A voice came through the overhead speakers in the med bay.

"Is Dr. Cho there yet?" Bruce said, and we saw his feet patter on the glass.

I responded right as he came in. "That her helicopter?"

"Must be."

Unsurprisingly, Helen Cho came through the back door less than five minutes later, seemingly prepped for surgery. I pursed my lips. I knew this wasn't a damn prank. Now if I could just remember who had been on the mission. . .