fossilised | military mistletoe

It was a good job that the army didn't know that Tony planned to be out of the weapons industry, or they would be doing this in a whole different way with threats instead of trying to butter him up. It was only because they hoped for a large contract with him, and a substantial donation, that the PR team was eventually convinced that they could spin James Barnes' story into something that would work for them.

Hero soldier survives against all odds and protects American citizen, they'd have him do press tours and give him a good pension and a medal, make him a poster boy. Gloss over the mistake as much as possible, maybe even have him issue a statement about how he would have made the same call in their place.

It was early the following morning when a sharp-eyed young woman came back into the room with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and a set of contracts in hand.

"Good morning, gentleman. Mr. Stark, Sergeant Barnes, I'll just need both of you to read and sign these documents."

Bucky rolled his eyes and took his, giving it a cursory scan before looking up in surprise. "The hell? Is this a joke? Medals? Promotional tour?"

“Pension,” Tony remarked, with a smirk. That was for him, because it was hard to buy someone who was rich. The documents made him laugh, but he didn’t ask for legal to be brought in to read the contract. Despite appearances, he was pretty savvy when it came to contract law.

He didn’t just dole out responsibility. He strove to understand it too.

“Pretty good, Barnes.” He’d wait until Bucky took a look at it before he put his name to the paper but he knew Bucky was going to sign. Who wouldn’t in this case? It set his family up for life and he didn’t have to be dead.

He might have to do some traveling and write a book or produce a podcast but that would all be gravy.

He didn't think that they'd really want him for tv interviews and book deals, not when they realised how broken his brain was after all of this. But he signed it anyway, not because it came with a fucking purple heart (they were really going all in on this hero angle now they'd decided that, huh?) or because it came with parades, but because it came with a full pension that he could use to support his family and it meant he didn't have to live in secret.

So he scribbled his name and then held his hand out with a hard frown.

"Now give me a goddamn phone. Please."

He gave Tony a tiny smile when he finally got a phone given to him, but then all of his attention went on dialling Steve's number. He had no idea what might greet him on the other end, they'd probably had a damn funeral for him months ago. He couldn't imagine losing Steve, and Steve had no idea that he hadn't really lost Bucky.

Jesus, this was going to be a mess.

Steve was just coming up from the subway when the phone rang in his pocket. With his hands full, and his lungs feeling like they were going to give out thanks to the escalator being down, he nearly let it go to voice mail. Instead, he threaded his arms through his bags and tucked his cheap, street coffee against his chest to free one hand for the phone.

"Rogers," Steve said, mostly because he was sure this was either a telemarketer or someone from collections. He was bracing himself for the latter, hoping for the former.

Instead, there was just silence. That was strange. He pulled the phone from his head and glanced at the number. He recognized the area code as California, but only because of a show he liked to watch on TV from time to time while he was painting. Telemarketer, he assumed, and tried one more time. "Uh. Hello? Anyone?"

All it would take would be the sound of Bucky's voice to cause him to drop his coffee. All this time, he never forgot it. He heard it say snarky things to him all the time, in the back of his head anyway. He talked to it. It answered. Maybe he was going completely insane now, though, since he was losing his grip on reality.

"B-Bucky?"

Jesus, hearing Steve's voice was like getting sucker punched right in the gut.

For a few moments he couldn't do anything other than try and swallow the sudden lump that had formed in his throat, but knowing that Steve was on the other end of this line probably wondering if someone was playing a really poor taste prank on him was what made him actually speak.

"Hey pal."

Great, good start.

"So, uh-- you probably figured this out, but I'm not dead. Obviously. Jesus, this is already a mess. Sorry."

"You're such an asshole!" Screaming this in the middle of the sidewalk in New York? Not really a problem. Just about everyone ignored him and walked around him. It wasn't his finest moment, though, even if he felt vindicated to be yelling in the first place. "You've been dead for five months-- I'm going to kill you again!"

Those last words were a mix of tears and laughter. Steve sat back against the wall separating the sidewalk and the subway entry like he was homeless -- and let's face it, several times in his life he had been, so he had some real cred doing this. He was going to start bawling any second now, real, honest to God wailing, if someone didn't stop him.

"I-I said some really nice stuff about you, you damned bastard."

Tony could probably hear everything, given how hard Steve was yelling, and Bucky was about to embarrass himself too by sobbing on his end of the phone. His voice got more gravelly with trying to hold tears back, and he was holding the phone so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Yeah? Then you can take it all back, Steve, because I swear I never meant to put any of you through this. I got-- caught."

Such a sanitised word for what they went through, but he doesn't want the horrors of their experiences to taint the people he cares about.

"But I'm out now, and you'll never guess who saved my life by signalling the army, huh? It was Tony Stark, you know, the guy who's building you've protested outside of about twenty times."

“Again?!” Steve isn’t usually prone to hysterics, but you take enough people from his life, including one whose friendship was always based on teasing and rubbing and general jerkiness and you get this reaction. “You’re so bad at being a soldier. So. Bad. You’re done. Come home. Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

He was adamant about the whole thing too, though he was also openly sobbing and feeling foolish the whole time.

“And you’re in with Stark? Jesus Buck. Jesus. That stink is never coming off.” Tony couldn’t really understand any of that of course. Steve was too broken to get the words out.

He did turn his eyes away, though. This was a private moment.

Okay, so Steve maybe had a point that getting captured once was bad luck and getting captured twice was just kind of ridiculous. He probably should've taken the honourable discharge on PTSD related conditions when he was offered it the first time, instead of diving right back in to try and pretend everything was fine.

Everyone makes mistakes.

He was crying in earnest as well now, his heart feeling as though someone had their entire fist wrapped tight around it.

"--hey, lay off, he's a good guy." Hopefully said good guy would hear that bit, at least. "Listen, Steve, you think you could call the girls and get them up here? Are they okay? Becca stayed in school, right? You stayed in school? Listen, they're gonna give me a pension, I can still support all of you."

“You didn’t call your sisters?! Oh my god, you’re an asshole, Barnes!” It was probably a wonder that he could be understood right now. He didn’t even have the wherewithall to squawk at a girl that tossed a five dollar bill at him. He was on a cell phone— Obviously he didn’t need the charity!

He did, however, need to calm down it he’d have an attack. No one wanted that.

Steve leaned forward and put his forehead on his knees to breathe, sucking in air and deciding to go for his inhaler anyway. One swig did him just fine. Somehow it soothes his nerves too.

“They’re with me, Buck. Or I’m with them. We didn’t uh... well we sort of fudged some of the papers. Everyone is okay. Except for you. I’m killing you the second I see you. Text me your address.”

A tiny knot undid in his chest and he felt like he could breathe again. It didn't sound like they were in the best position if they were fudging paperwork, but if they were all together and nobody had been forced out of education, then he could work with that. It meant that his disappearance hadn't ruined everything.

"You think maybe you could wait to kill me 'til after I'm out of the hospital?"

He sniffed, trying manfully to repress his tears and not succeeding very well.

"I'm at the Saint Monica hospital in California, and Steve-- it's not good, you need to prepare the girls. They took my arm."

“Cali—. Who took— Where did they—?” Oh. Oh. There was a lot of silence on the other end of the line. There was a lot of silence from Bucky too, which made Tony want to crack a joke. He didn’t. He was too busy finally allowed to be on a phone himself and was texting his assistant.

Mostly about bullshit that would come back to him later, he was sure. He did love to be a provocateur.

When Steve finally exhaled, it was after he managed to get to his feet. The coffee was long trampled through. “Okay. Don’t think that gets you a pass on the whole killing thing, as soon as you’re better.” He didn’t know what to do with that information honestly. “I’m going to see if there are cheap flights out. I’ll bring the girls.”

"Thanks. Listen, Steve-- I really missed all of you, you have no idea how much, and I'm so sorry that this happened."

Steve might joke about wanting to kill him, but Bucky would accept that. Even if it wasn't his fault that he'd been captured, he still felt like a total heel, and if they all wanted to beat him up for it then he'd let them.

"But if you guys can't afford to come out here, then it's okay. Don't go hungry or nothing, I'll be out in a little while and I can make my own way back."

He glanced up at where Tony was texting, exhausted rings around his eyes just from this short conversation. Hopefully at least he would have someone coming out here, it's not like he had to worry about the cost of a plane ticket and a motel room.

“Address?” Tony had seen Bucky look towards him, had heard the man mention to his friend about going hungry, and honestly, bringing Bucky’s family here was the least he could do. It would get the guy out of his hair, get him back to some normal level of caring where he never looked like he cared at all. It was for the best. Four months of hell did not family make. And judging by the sheer amount of emotion he’d just witnessed, he didn’t need that sort of thing in his life.

All of this, of course, was a tremendous lie. He just needed to have it in place before his heart tried to do something it wasn’t made for.

Tony only understood caring with money. The rest seemed alien and foreign. And he didn’t want to want it.

At Bucky’s silence, Tony rolled his eyes. “I need an address to send the car to pick the kids up and bring them to Long Island so we can fly them out here. Now come on, address. My assistant needs something to do.”

"Huh?"

It took Bucky a moment to realise that Tony was talking to him, and then he felt a wave of both affection and embarrassment. He was a pretty proud person, all of his family were, it's why he found a way to work for what they had instead of beg or take handouts. Even though he knew Tony had money to spare and then some, it still felt wrong to just... take it.

"You don't have to do that, really. It's a lot of money-- hang on a second, Steve, Tony wants to pay for your flights, I just need to sort this out with him."

“I’m not paying for anything.” Except the car. And the fuel. “I have a house in Long Island.” With an airstrip nearby. “I’m sending the jet. It’s already in the air. This isn’t charity, Barnes. You saved my life. What’s one little plane ride?”

And the whole arguing to get his life back thing. Stuff like that. You know. Tony wasn’t trying to buy any affection here, he was just doing what he always did.

Whatever he wanted.

“They have to make a stop for pizza before they get on the plane. Happy knows what I like. Oh— Is that friend of yours bitching that he can’t be seen on my plane? Tell him to sent protest Instagram stories or whatever, and to suck it up, because he’s coming to see you.” Yeah. He could hear Steve ranting already about being paid for.

Hearing Steve rant was like coming home. He loved his best friend so much, he missed him like a piece of himself, and he was glad that grief or stress or whatever had happened during his absence hadn't ruined his ability to be a chihuahua to anyone that he thought deserved it.

He understood, and he also didn't want Tony to think that he had to buy Bucky's friendship, because he'd heard enough stories while they were locked up to know that was a real possibility.

"Okay-- okay, Steve, please. I really need you out here, and you can kill me for it when you get here. Is it still 747 Oak?"

“Oh I’m already killing you, so now it’s just going to be so much more painfully. Becca is gonna help—. Shit. Shit, yeah. Yeah. I’ll go get the girls from school.” Steve didn’t want to hang up and walked almost two blocks before he decide he couldn’t juggle bags and phone anymore. “Buck— If you go missing before I get there and I have to ride free of charge because of a Stark back again I’m going to find you myself. Selfish prick. Love you, pal.”

He hung up the phone angrily too, and somehow that managed to translate. Which left Bucky alone with an amused looking Tony Stark.

“I’m going to get a private room if the rest of your family is that loud.” And he really should anyway. He just didn’t like the idea of being alone. Without Bucky. “Text him that the car will be there in about five hours.”

Bucky gave a watery sort of laugh at Tony's interpretation of how loud his family would be, but he shook his head pretty firmly all the same.

"Oh no, pal, you don't get to escape that easily. You're gonna draw fire away from me, Steve's gonna hate you, he's protested outside your building more times than I can count. Prepare to have an angry chihuahua tell you about how you should be going more green and how you treat your employees."

He did text Steve all the same, though, and received an angry 'fuck you' in return, so he assumed the message was received okay.

"I'll do the same for you. If you have any angry assistants coming in, they can yell at me instead."

Angry assistants. Compared to angry because they love you family members.

Tony ignored the sentiment. It wouldn’t do him a lick of good. Instead, he snorted just a little and let his head fall back on pillows way too shaped to his neck. He’d slept for days and was still tired. The pain medication really took it out of him.

The pain itself really took it out of him.

“Your friend is right. I should be more green. I’ll have to agree to disagree about my employees. I’d dare him to find a better benefits package in any corporation.” That was one thing Tony didn’t hate about himself. His philanthropy. “You don’t have to worry about angry assistants. I’m keeping them busy.”

"I'll let you take that up with Steve."

Bucky shot a tired but genuine smile over to Tony, why was it that all he had done today was lie around and talk on the phone for five minutes but he was already exhausted again? That didn't seem fair.

"But hey, Tony, you know we're still gonna hang out when we get out of this place, right? That's why you've gotta get on with Steve. We all live in New York, there's no reason I can't get you that keg of beer I promised you."

“I live in California,” Tony replied, amused. “Born in New York but it’s never felt like home.” Tony wasn’t quite feeling all woah is me just yet, mainly because he was half asleep. “Can fly you out to happy hour every once in awhile. Left coast is the best coast.”

If Bucky had any retort to that it was met with silence. The man would sleep, as he had been doing for months, partially under Bucky’s watchful eye.

And all without any visitors, despite evidently living fairly nearby. Tony didn’t want to be seen as weak. It would be different if Bucky wasn’t there. Maybe. Then again, he’d always gone through his hardest trials alone. This didn’t have to be any different.

Whenever Tony next woke up, it would be to the sight of four extra people in the room, all of who were crowded around Bucky's bedside. Not that the man himself was aware, because he was still fast asleep. The youngest of the two girls, who looked about ten, was outright crying. The one older than that, mid-teens, was desperately biting her lip, and the oldest who looked almost like a female version of Bucky was glaring angrily down. The three of them were joined by a very short, very skinny, blond haired man who came over to Tony's bedside when he saw the other man was awake.

He held out his hand, because his Ma raised him right, but he also glared because this was Tony Stark and he had a lot of FEELINGS regarding his company and business practises.

"Steve Rogers. Thank you for flying us out here and putting us up, we all appreciate it. However, you should still know that I think your business practises are abhorrent and I wish it had been anyone but you who rescued my best friend."

Tony just barely registered what Steve was saying and blinked tired, blood shot, pain filled eyes up at the young man. He looked twelve, maybe thirteen. He was probably in his twenties though. Sickly. Tony got a lot from cold reads of people. He got a lot from first impressions. And he had to say that Steve Rogers measured up to everything Bucky had ever mentioned about him.

“As much as I’d love to discuss international business practices with an undergrad, I’m going to have to refrain,” Tony said, painfully trying to sit up and call for a nurse.

He didn’t need to be in the room for the reunion. He ought to have moved to a separate wing for it.

“But for the record, I didn’t do much. He saved my life.”

A bit of fierce pride lit up Steve's eyes at that. He suspected as much, but Tony would learn pretty quickly that the people who orbited Bucky tended to think he hung the moon and were only smugly justified when anything happened that backed that up.

"Then it seems to me you owe him, and since he owes me about fifty million for making me think he was dead, you can owe me instead. And I'm calling that in for a chat about your company when you're out of hospital."

Even he's not jackass enough to keep harassing a man clearly in pain.

A nurse poked her head in on seeing one of her patients awake and gave him a smile. "Everything okay, Mr. Stark? Looks nice and lively in here."

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Should never had said it was quiet. HA

you jinxed yourself! fool!

I did. Dumb dumb dumb

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