Soldier Parents

Daughter

There are shouts. Nothing she can understand but definitely there. And they're getting nearer. Please. Please, get me out. I want to go home. She tries to think of how much time had passed since she was strapped to the chair. But she can't remember. Her brain is clouded, like a thick fog wrapping around anything important There are more shouts. They're nearer this time. She hears boots on the stone floor, a door pushed open and hitting the wall with a loud bang. She tries to open her eyes again but still they remain closed. The voices are shouting again. This time she can hear them more clearly. "Ste.. ound he..." Why can I not understand what they are saying? Please, get me out.

She feels herself drifting off. The voices muffle again. Suddenly there are hands on her. Warm and firm. On her ankles, wrists, stomach and face. She wants to fight them at first. She wants to scream at them to let her go. But all she manages is a grunt. A small, nearly inaudible grunt. The loud sounds fade into nothing. The feeling of the hands on her skin vanishes. The last thing she can remember is her name. Shouted by an incredibly sad and frantic voice.

"Y/N!"

* * *

"Hurry! Get her in. We don't have much time!" Bruce shouts and prepares a bed for Steve to lay Y/N down. She's pale. She lost too much blood. Since they found her there passed over forty minutes, and she didn't regain consciousness or showed any sign of being alive. Except of still breathing. Bruce and Helen are quick to push everybody out of the room. Steve stares at the closed door. His brain paints the worst scenarios he can dream of. All in just a few seconds and starting again and again. He swallows and looks around. Natasha, Wanda, Clint and Tony are standing there, staring at the door with worried expressions. Every single one of them learned to love Y/N over the time and none of them can imagine how it could be without her anymore. His eyes dart further through the hall, searching for a specific person. There. There he is. Sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, head in his hands. Steve walks up to him and crouches down, one hand finding his metal shoulder. "Bucky." The other man reaches for Steve's other hand, gripping it hard. "What- what if she's-" He swallows. Steve knows exactly what he thinks.

What if she's not going to make it?

"She will. She has to." He leans forward and presses his forehead to Bucky's. "We'll just have to give her some time. She'll make it. I know it."

The door slams open. Every pair of eyes in the hall directs to the man standing there. "We have a problem." Steve feels his chest tighten. His eyes dart back to Bucky who starts shivering and crying silently. "What is it?"

"We don't have enough blood. We have one bag of her blood type, but she needs more. We need either two new bags or someone for a blood transfusion."

"And where are we going to find either of this?" Tony walks up to Bruce. "There has to be something else. Something quicker."

"I know." Bruce holds up a hand. "But there is nothing. I looked through your files and it seems that Steve could be a potential donor for that. He has the same blood type." The eyes wander from Bruce to Steve. He doesn't think. He stands up and walks past Tony. "Do it. Anything that helps keeping her alive. Do it." Bruce nods and walks back in motioning for Steve to follow him. He takes one last look at Bucky before turning to Nat. "Try to calm him. He needs a clean head for this." They both nod at each other and Steve follows Bruce into the operating room.

* * *

Bucky sits on the chair. He's torn between his two lovers. Steve's lying to his right. Sleeping after giving a lot of blood to safe Y/N. She's lying to his left. Still unconscious. Bruce had told him that all they could do now is wait. She wasn't hurt much. Some minor cuts and some bruises but nothing major. Except for the large cuts on her arms. Helen helped to seal them so that they wouldn't turn into scars. But for anything else they can't do much. He takes her hand in his. This feeling. It's so familiar. He had missed it so much for the last two days in which she was gone. But something feels strange. He can't get a grip on what it was but something is not like it is supposed to be. A sigh comes from his right. He looks over just as Steve's eyes flutter open. "Hey Stevie." He stands up and takes the two steps to his bed just to sit down on its edge again. This time he takes Steve's hand in his own. Familiar. And nothing feels off. Just like it is supposed to be. "Hey." Steve's voice cracks a little. It's rough and deep from sleep and disuse. He clears his throat and directs a small smile at Bucky. "How's she?"