fossilised | military mistletoe

"Well-- my sisters are probably missing me, I have three of them and I pretty much raised them since my folks passed on. And Steve, he's my best friend, almost like a brother. He's gonna kick my ass when I get home, especially if the army have done something dumb like go round and give him a flag and condolences."

Which, knowing the situation they were in now, was highly likely. That actually made his heart hurt a little, imagining what that would be like. Would Steve be in art class when the call came? Maybe getting a coffee someplace? Would he cry? Would he get mad?

"That's about it. I have a few other friends, Nat and Sam and so on, but they're not as close to me as Steve."

Family. Friends. Tony doesn’t know what any of that is like so he’s not upset or jealous about it. He has money enough to buy company when he needs it. And he doesn’t often need it. “I’ll come to Brooklyn after we get out or send a plane to pick you up if you’d rather come to Malibu.” Most people would rather the private jet travel.

Tony was rattling it off like it was nothing, talking about plans like they were at a bar now and planning a get together in a few months, all while planning their escape.

The latter wasn’t going to come quickly. Progress was slow and he needed to prove to their captors that he was doing the best he could on their situation too. Days kept passing but Tony learned more and more about Bucky’s life while they were awake, and returned the favor with stories about being in boarding school or what it was like to be fifteen years old at MIT in the early nineties... right around when Bucky himself had been born.

It was weeks before Tony put down his tools and set the warhead of a large missile in front of him before he folded his hands. “Okay. Finished.”

There would have to be a test, he knew, but one that would ultimately prove to be detrimental to their captors. The missile would do very little damage when it exploded in midair, but it would ping the radar and communication satellites of every branch of the armed forces and the news media with a message designed to get them extracted from this hell.

By the time that the missile was built, they had been missing for four months. Both of them were malnourished, both of their wounds had healed over badly and caused frequent infections or pain, but they had also formed a bond of friendship that Bucky was sure would last forever. Sure, Tony could be a pain in the ass, but he was also a really nice guy underneath it all.

He watched as the missile went up and then laid his remaining hand on Stark's shoulder, voice a concerned undertone.

"Good job, pal. Guess that's our final hurrah, now we find out if you've saved our asses or if we're due for nothing more than a shallow grave in the desert."

“With this soil, it really will be shallow. Maybe they’ll have me build a digging machine to get through all the rock,” Tony mused. It wasn’t funny by any stretch of the imagination but he couldn’t help himself but allow his gallows humor to shine. He was tired. Breathing had become a chore of late. All he wanted to do was put his feet up and have a drink.

The test was success, for their captors, and they immediately put Tony to work on a second missile. No rest for the weary, he supposed, and let their captors drag them back underground.

It would only be for a small while, however. The earthen cell they were kept quaked as aircraft screamed overhead and ground troops flooded the compound. The lights went out but Tony couldn’t stop grinning.

“You really do owe me that drink now.”

"Are you kidding me? I'll buy you a whole keg. Jesus, Tony, you saved our lives."

Bucky had been strong this whole time, he hadn't even cried when the pain from the loss of his arm got too bad, or about how fucking terrified he was when they beat him to make Tony work faster. But he found he was getting kind of wet around the eyes as the whole place was invaded with the sheer relief of survival.

At the back of his mind, he knew they'd both have a buttload of issues from this mess, but that was a problem for another time. Right now they were alive against all the odds, blissfully, perfectly alive, and... separated.

The troops that swarmed in surrounded Tony, high level elite troops that bore him away, all talking nineteen to the dozen. He was the one they wanted to save. The cash cow, the one that would give them media attention. Bucky was an afterthought. Not even that. The letter of condolences, and the flag, had been sent back to his sisters over two months ago, they had forgotten he even existed.

Tony might hear Bucky calling something after him, but then he would be hustled into the back of a field ambulance and a woman with bright red lipstick and nails too long for field duty, was smiling soothingly at him.

"Welcome back, Mr. Stark. My name is Lavinia, and we're going to take you right to a hospital, and then back home. We're so glad to see you again."

“Where’s Bucky?” They’d kindly left the car battery on the gurney beside him but he still felt weighed down. They had likely strapped him in for the flight, and he wasn’t exactly in the position to resist much. That was the problem with terrorists for captors. Even though he had been working as hard as he could, sometimes they would just punish himself and Bucky both by starving them. His strength was barely existent, though he struggled all the same.

The woman looked confused for a moment and Tony reached up to grab her sleeve.

If she’d been Rhodey, he might have tried to punch him... or, honestly, probably cried against his chest. Thankfully, it was just some woman he didn’t know and didn’t care about. “The man. The one that was held with me. He’s coming along. Same hospital. He saved my life and he needs more help than I do.”

“The soldier? Mr. Stark, the military will provide—“

“Like shit. I know how the VA works. It’s why I donate so much. I want him with me!”

The thought of being without his only lifeline for the last few months was impossible.

The woman hesitated for a moment, torn between not wanting to piss Tony Stark off and not wanting to inconvenience herself more than she had to be. In the end, the prospect of getting a large donation for her department was what decided her, and so she whipped out her cell phone and barked directions in it for the soldier - nameless, she hadn't bothered to listen to his name - to be brought too.

After that, everything would go a bit fuzzy for Tony, because he'd be injected with first morphine, and then anaesthetic when they reached the hospital, and he'd still be alone when he went under.

He wouldn't know it, but he was out for nearly five full days. They had to do four separate surgeries on him to remove all of the shrapnel and get the car battery no longer needed. He had to have a mini pacemaker installed, but other than that his chest was closed up and bandaged heavily when he did come around. At least Bucky would be in a bed in the same room, as per his wishes, not looking a whole lot better. He was covered almost up to his neck with the sheet, but his eyes were fixed on Tony in worry.

Tony relaxed the moment he caught Bucky’s stare. His head turned back around and he closed his eyes, smirk on his still gaunt face. They’d only just removed the feeding tube that morning at the first signs that he had been waking up, and his throat was scratchy from disuse and lack of moisture. He didn’t feel a whole lot stronger actually, but he did feel clean. “You smell a lot better,” were his first words, because of course he had to be a dick.

Tony didn’t know the hospital but a glance out of the window told him that they were in California. Palm trees swayed in the breeze. He almost hated it. It was too serene. Too calm. How could he go back to Silicone Valley’s endless beauty and wide open spaces after what he had been through.

He already knew that he was going to hate the quiet.

Bucky snorted quietly, voice also a little hoarse. He hadn't had the feeding tubes like Tony, but he had been quiet for a long time now. He had mostly refused to talk to the military people who kept coming through wanting him to sign official secrets papers, or being cagey about declaring him alive again.

Some bullshit about it not reflecting well on the military to be seen to be wrong in the eyes of the public. So what the hell is he supposed to do to keep them from being wrong? Be legally dead forever?

"Yeah? Because you still smell like ass."

“My ass smells great,” Tony shot back, curling and uncurling his fingers just as a team of medical professionals rushed in to lol him over. The process took forever and while he did want to be left alone, it was pretty nice to have some hustle and bustle around to keep his mind occupied.

His personal assistant was here to see him, but Tony didn’t want any visitors. Bucky might not feel that way, though, and so he glanced at his friend, also being tended to, and arched his eyebrows at him.

“Let’s get the sergeant’s family here. Three sisters and a best friend?” He had no idea about the whole play dead scenario and if he did, well they’d be on a plane already out to California. Tony liked to throw his money around. His legal and financial teams were often appalled but what did he care? This was for a good cause.

"I'm afraid the sergeant's family are otherwise engaged," one of the doctors replied smoothly, prompting a snort from Bucky that was anything but amused.

"What they mean is that they haven't told them I'm not dead, and they're not letting me do it either. I'm a walking PR disaster because they already shipped condolences about me months ago, and if I show up alive then it looks like they're heartless assholes who give up on missing soldiers too soon. They're scared the public won't like that."

"No," the doctor said, looking a bit nervous. "That's not it at all, the situation is a lot more complex than that. And now isn't the time to discuss it, if you don't mind, we need to get Mr. Stark checked over now he's awake. How are your pain levels, Mr. Stark?"

“Manageable. More manageable if you would just do your damned job. Actually, you know what? Bring in my PA. I’d like a press conference set up.” Tony had stopped being diplomatic. He was tired of being confined and told what he could or could not do. He also didn’t grasp the larger issues at hand, he didn’t know half of what was going on or why.

Tony just had too much money and a powerful tech company to back him up. He thought he was invincible and if their escape from Afghanistan was worth anything, it just proved to him that he could do whatever he damn well pleased by virtue of brain power alone.

“I want to recognize the hero who lost an arm saving my life and who kept me alive when I was going to die any number of times. Oh, get hair and makeup in here too. He looks terrible for the camera.”

"I'm sorry, but we can't do that."

Tony might have a lot of money, and they might be hoping for a sizeable donation in thanks for saving his life, but that didn't mean that he was all powerful. They had their orders from the PR department, and those superseded most others.

"Someone will be by later this afternoon to explain the situation and go through some documentation with you. After that, we'd be happy to let you hold a press conference. Alone."

Alone? If they thought Tony would keep his mouth shut, they had another thing coming. Of course, by then, his assistant would be in to help smooth down his rough edges and to keep him from getting too angry. He was seething, though, by the time that he and Bucky were alone.

“What is this? Embarrassment? What are they covering up? You’re a god damned hero,” Tony grunted, wheezing a little. The more worked up he became, the harder it was for him to breathe. He wasn’t even worried about that, however.

If he pooped a stitch, they’d put a new one in.

Conspiracy theories reigned in his head as he tried to find a comfortable place to lay and tried not to think of ways to McGuyver a bomb to totally destroy this building.

“No offense, Barnes, but I’m sticking to Air Force from now on.”

Bucky wasn't feeling in a much better mood, and the only thing keeping him from snarling and punching people was that they couldn't force him to sign the damn papers and he wasn't about to let them keep him away from his family.

"They don't care either, Tony, open your eyes. They want you to come on TV and thank them for saving you, give them a big cheque to build more weapons, and then shut up and go away. They don't care that you're actually alive, and they're mad as hell that I'm alive."

He sat up slowly, painfully. Tony would see that his whole torso was bandaged, and what had been left of the stump of his arm was gone right up to the socket of his shoulder, just a blank nothingness.

"If I had a cell phone, I'd already have called my people and let them know."

A quick scan of the room revealed that there wasn’t a phone in here either. It would have been simple to get an outside line. Tony didn’t have a cell. His assistant might, and even if not, he’d just pass along phone numbers Bucky wanted called.

They couldn’t keep them in a black hole for long.

“My weapons days are over,” Tony said, his anger leaving him exhausted to the point where he could barely speak. He just needed to heal, and Bucky did too, though Tony thought he looked much better without the stump. It would just be more difficult to fit s prosthetic on later and limit his control.

Then again, it would likely launch a new part of Tony’s career if he could figure out what to do about that. His lips pursed together, design schematics forming on his eyelids.

“This is going to sound crazy, but it’s weird to have you over there.” They'd spent most of their nights close together to ward off the cold.

Bucky wasn't a naturally tactile person, especially not after being captured twice and held as a prisoner, but with Tony it had been a matter for survival and he kind of got that it would have been comforting. They were bonded now in a way that he thought would last forever, even if he knew Tony well enough by now to know that the idiot would assume Bucky wouldn't want to know him now they were free.

"Sorry, pal, but we're both hooked up to too much shit for any relocation, guess you're going to have to live without my firm butt next to you."

He smiled, something half hearted.

"...this wasn't how I pictured us getting out, you know? I thought I'd at least get to see my family, I didn't think I'd be treated like a goddamn criminal for surviving."

“Your butt isn’t as firm as you seem to think it is, Sarg,” Tony grinned. It was easier to tease than it was to just lay here and feel sorry for themselves. “And I didn’t know your people were such absolute dicks. Should have guessed, judging by you, but I thought you were a one off.”

Tony himself didn’t like to be touched. He hadn’t before being left for dead in the Middle East and there was no way that was going to change now, but he’d just grown used to having Bucky right next to him every time he shut his eyes that it was honestly difficult to relax with just some steel bars keeping him in place.

Man. He just really hated all of this.

“You’re going to see your family again. Soon. You’re going to owe me another drink.” People tended to be dismissive of Tony Stark. It didn’t matter how often he showed his genius, he was still just Howard’s kid.

But it was odd that Rhodey hadn’t been here. Or Happy. Or even Obadiah.

Little did Tony know that Obadiah had been working under the assumption that Stark wouldn't return, he wasn't supposed to return, and now he was doing some fast thinking and some damage control so that he could maintain his image as that one kindly friend of Howard's who had Tony's affection and confidence.

Damn it.

Happy was actually there, in the waiting room, but had been denied entrance about fifteen times thanks to security protocols, and Rhodey was currently on a deployment that meant he wasn't yet free to come to California. Not that either of them knew any of this.

"We're both gonna see our people again, we just need to find a phone. Come on, Tony, I thought you were some kind of genius, can't you jimmy a phone out of what we have in here or something?"

“Isn’t what I’ve already done for you enough?” He snorted, cracking one eye open just to double check that Bucky was still there. It was crazy how attached he had gotten and the numbing thought that this wouldn’t last forever was just starting to seep in. Buck would go home. And that would be that.

Maybe he could offer him a job? Tony tended to solve friendship matters with employment. People stayed for the money and he got their friendship out of it.

It seemed like a good plan to him.

“Tell you what. Start working that boyish charm on one of the nurses and get yourself a phone. No one leaves them in their lockers. They all have them in their back pockets. Maybe you’ll even get a number out of it?” Tony was still strapped down to keep him from moving too much so his arms were no longer in service. And Bucky still had at least one.

"I saved your life too, pal. Pretty sure you owe me at least one crappy phone, tell them you need to call your bank to prepare them for the massive cheque you're gonna write or something."

He wasn't interested in the nurses even if they would be keen to look in on him, and that was doubtful given that he hadn't had anything other than a sponge bath in literal months and was down an arm.

"How about you start pulling your weight around here, huh, Stark?" He grinned, because it was easier to joke. Easier for them both, it was just something they had got used to. "Such a damn slacker, acting like you have a right to slob around just because you've had open heart surgery."

“And you lost an arm? Big. Deal. You have another perfectly good one. You didn’t even lose your jacking arm so i have no idea why you’re throwing such a damned fit.” Anyone watching this would very likely be utterly appalled. “Best I can do with just a heart monitor and IV drip is wait until these idiots let me out or try to get me to build a missile for them.”

Not to sugar coat things but they were still stuck here under the whim of someone else. That was the worst part really.

Tony had expected at least a little bit of autonomy. This was by and large ridiculous.

“A few days won’t make a difference,” he murmured. “Take a god damned nap already and let me think.”

It made a difference, but Bucky didn't want to articulate why. Some things were just too personal and awkward, but he was worried about how his sisters were coping with finances - Becca was the next oldest and she was still in high school, what if she dropped out so she could support them all? What if his sisters were in foster care now because his money wasn't coming in any more to let them be semi-independent?

And Steve, too. He had no idea how Steve would have reacted to the news that he was dead, but he was damn sure it wouldn't have been well. He needed to see them all again, he needed to make his absence right.

"...you know why I enlisted?" Maybe he did need to talk about it a bit. "To support my sisters. I couldn't go to college and earn money to keep them out of foster care, but to be a legal guardian I had to be able to support them all. The army gave me a place to earn money where all of it could go to them, room and board paid for, and they'd pay for me to go to college after. I did everything the damn army asked of me. I got caught, fucking twice, and I never told anyone anything, I never broke, I just-- I don't get it. What the fuck did I do wrong? Why the fuck won't they let me call my family, why are they treating me like a criminal?"

Oops, that was a bit much, but once he started it just seemed to keep coming, voice tight and a bit thick. He had given everything for his country, he had fought as hard as he could and lost so much, and they were acting like they'd rather he'd died.

"I just want a damn phone call."

“We had four months and you never told me this?” Tony asked, eyes staying closed because he didn’t need to see Bucky’s face. He knew the man must be totally heartbroken just from the way his voice cracked.

He exhaled slowly, biding his time, and not making an offer he already knew that Bucky would accept because he had no choice. He’d be proud but this was for his family.

“I owe you more than the welfare of your siblings. You didn’t do anything wrong. The world is just a shitty place and then you die.” He didn’t like to hear the sudden frantic pressure from the mouth of the guy who had been holding him sane for months now. “I’m getting you that phone. I’m finding your sisters. You trusted me once so keep on doing that.”

"I didn't tell you because it was too hard. I didn't know if we were really gonna make it out of there, and talking about them hurt too much."

His voice was still thick, but also muffled in a way that might tell Tony that he was trying to surreptitiously wipe his face on his sheet so there was no trace left of any unmanly tears.

"It's not that I didn't want you to know, and I do trust you. Hell, it's pretty much you, Steve, Becca, Beth, and Lizzie. That's it. Jesus, it's been months since they said I was dead, do you think they gave them any kind of compensation payment? Steve's medical insurance was being paid for by my salary too."

Bucky had kept literally nothing of his pay for himself, he was kind of a moron that way. When he went all in for someone, he was loyal til the end, no matter what.

"But, I mean-- yeah, okay. If you say you can get me the phone, I believe you. Just don't leave it too long, slacker."

It was a poor attempt to get back to the lightness of teasing, spoiled by the way his voice was still wavering a bit.

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