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The stabbing itself honestly isn’t even dramatic.
That’s the infuriating part.
No explosion. No collapsing building. No heroic soundtrack.
Just one deeply irritating mercenary with a KA-BAR and terrible aim.
Bucky’s annoyed before the blade even comes out of him.
“Seriously?” he mutters, staring down at the blood spreading through his shirt. “This is why people shouldn’t use bread knives.”
“You got stabbed,” Ava says flatly.
“I noticed.”
Now he’s sitting in the Watchtower med bay while Yelena digs through cabinets with the aggressive energy of someone personally offended by Band-Aids.
John leans against the wall eating french fries with ketchup.
Bob is hovering beside Bucky trying to be emotionally supportive in the way golden retrievers think they’re helping when their owners slip over banana peels, offering him water every three minutes.
Bucky already regrets being alive.
Yelena snaps on gloves. “So. Are we calling Sam?”
Bucky looks up immediately.
“What? No.”
“You were stabbed.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Yes,” Yelena says. “Which is maybe part of the problem.”
She starts disinfecting the wound.
Bucky hisses through his teeth. “Jesus Christ.”
“Jesus is not the answer.”
“No,” Bucky repeats. “Why would I tell him?”
The room goes quiet.
Yelena slowly lowers the gauze.
“…because he is your boyfriend?”
Bucky looks genuinely offended.
“He is not.”
Bob blinks. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re pretty close,” Bob says carefully. “You shared a room during the Thunderbolts team-building retreat. And Sam isn’t even on our team.”
“And I yearned to be your roommate, signifying my intentions for weeks. But there you were, standing in the rain and choosing the handsomely muscular and valiant hero of the skies over me,” Alexei says dejectedly.
“We go way back,” Bucky says immediately. “He’s my comrade.”
John actually chokes on a fry.
“Your comrade?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m pretty sure I saw you two kiss during the Flag Smashers chase in Riga.”
Bucky doesn’t even hesitate.
“I got something in my eye. Your viewing angle was skewed.”
Ava closes her eyes.
Yelena stares at the ceiling like she’s asking God for strength.
Bob whispers, deeply sincere, “I wasn’t there but I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“That is exactly what happened. And you weren’t there.”
“He held your face,” John says.
“Medical reasons.”
“And sighed into it.”
“Only to dislodge debris.”
John points aggressively. “See? This is why nobody likes talking to you.”
Bucky crosses his arms, immediately wincing in pain. “You people are obsessed with gossip and romance.”
“You own matching shirts,” Ava says.
“They were on sale.”
“The prints are literally two half-hearts forming a whole.”
“…they were greatly discounted.”
Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Fine,” she says. “Do not tell fake-not-boyfriend.”
“Thank you.”
“But if you bleed to death, I am telling him anyway because someone has to sign the certificate.”
“I’m not bleeding to death.”
Bucky immediately sways slightly sitting upright.
Everyone gasps.
“… dramatic, much?” he mutters.
The next morning, the Watchtower kitchen is unusually quiet.
Mostly because everyone’s still annoyed at Bucky for pretending getting stabbed in the torso is equivalent to stubbing your toe.
John’s making coffee.
Ava’s reading mission reports.
Alexei’s combing his mustache.
Bob is eating cereal directly out of the box because apparently bowls are oppressive now.
Then—
The elevator dings.
Sam Wilson walks out carrying a paper bag and two drinks.
“Morning, murder bunch.”
Everyone freezes.
Bucky visibly straightens.
Which is already suspicious.
Sam spots him immediately and grins. Easy. Automatic.
“There you are.”
“Hey, Sam.”
Too soft.
Way too soft.
Yelena narrows her eyes instantly.
Sam walks over and hands him the bag. “Brought you lunch.”
John looks at the clock.
“It’s eight in the morning.”
“Preparedness,” Sam says.
Bucky opens the bag.
“…from Jollibee?”
“You like Chickenjoy with rice. And pineapple juice."
“You went to Times Square all the way from D.C. for a Chickenjoy?” Yelena says.
Sam shrugs casually. “So what? I got him a chicken. As a friend.”
The entire room groans in perfect unison.
“Oh my God,” Ava mutters.
“Friend,” Alexei repeats, deadpan.
Bob looks emotionally devastated by the lying.
“You are the worst secret couple I’ve ever seen,” John says.
“We’re not a couple,” Bucky says automatically.
Sam nods, glaring at John. “How dare you say that.”
Yelena points between them. “You arrived here with food before nine a.m.”
“And?”
“You know his favorite order.”
“So?”
“You brought extra gravy.”
Sam falters.
“…that doesn’t mean anything.”
Bucky quietly says, “Thanks.”
And somehow that’s worse.
Because Sam’s whole face softens.
Not dramatically.
Not obviously.
Just enough that everyone in the room immediately looks away like they accidentally walked into something private.
John physically recoils.
“Oh, that’s disgusting.”
Sam flips him off without looking.
Then Sam notices the way Bucky’s sitting.
Too careful.
Too stiff.
His eyes narrow immediately.
“…why are you sitting like a propped-up corpse?”
Bucky goes extra still.
“No reason.”
“Barnes.”
“I’m fine.”
Yelena suddenly becomes very interested in her coffee.
Ava quietly exits the kitchen.
Cowards.
Sam crosses his arms slowly.
“What happened?”
“Nothing interesting.”
John snorts directly into his mug.
Sam’s head whips around.
“…John.”
John points at Bucky immediately. “He got stabbed.”
Traitor.
The room explodes instantly.
“YOU GOT STABBED?”
Bucky cringes.
“You’re screaming.”
Sam rounds on him so fast the entire team collectively leans back.
“You got STABBED and nobody told me?!”
“It wasn’t serious.”
“You were bleeding!”
“I’m healing.”
“That is not the point!”
Bucky looks almost comically unbothered now that Sam’s here.
Which somehow makes Sam angrier.
“You got stabbed and decided not to call me?”
“I didn’t wanna bother you.”
The room goes silent.
Because that—
That sounded so married.
Sam stares at him like he’s lost his mind.
“Bother me,” he repeats.
Bucky shrinks approximately three inches.
“Well when you say it like that—”
“When I say it like WHAT, Bucky?!”
“You’re doing the voice.”
“The voice?!”
“The disappointed friend voice.”
“I AM disappointed!”
“There it is again.”
John slowly whispers to Bob, “They are absolutely dating.”
Bob whispers back, “I think they might be engaged.”
Alexei interjects, “No, they’re on the brink of divorce. I’ve been there before with my beloved fake wife, Melina.”
Sam points furiously at Bucky.
“You do not get stabbed and hide it from me!”
“It was just a small perforation.”
“You look like death personified.”
Bucky scratches his head. “I’m running out of defenses.”
Sam throws his hands up.
“You could’ve died!”
“I’m hard to kill.”
“You are impossible.”
Bucky mutters, quieter now, “But you’re here.”
Sam stops.
The room collectively goes dead silent again.
Bucky’s expression softens just slightly around the edges.
Not smug.
Not teasing.
Just honest.
“You brought me lunch.”
Sam’s entire face changes instantly.
Like all the anger got abruptly body slammed by affection.
“…yeah, well,” he mutters. “You’re stupid.”
Bucky’s mouth twitches.
“Absolutely. I’m an idiot.”
John looks physically ill.
“Oh my God. Get a room, you two.”
“We are in a room,” Yelena says. “Unfortunately.”