Work Text:
Tony wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened.
He remembered the before, easily enough; the discovery of the HYDRA base in Canada, and the meeting with the team about it afterwards. The decision to let Tony do a quick flyby for recon before the whole team went in, and then the actual flight to the base. After that, though, everything was a blurry, pain-and-agony filled blank…
Until waking up in a strange bed with the goddamn freaking Winter Soldier looming over him. Then there was yelling, more pain and agony, and a gentle, soothing voice telling Tony to breathe and to stop struggling, because he was going to pull his stitches.
Tony fought anyway, panic clawing up his throat, because the last time he’d woken up in a strange place on a strange cot with someone looming over him, said someone had been digging shrapnel out of a hole in chest. The memory made him claw at his chest, though he was stopped by arms that were too strong to be Yinsen’s, and the fact that his right arm wasn’t moving properly anyway.
“Shhh, you’re okay,” someone murmured, as something cool and hard touched Tony’s forehead. “Just relax and go back to sleep - the pain medicine should kick in soon.”
Tony wanted to protest, because there had never been any pain meds in the cave. Then he remembered he wasn’t in the cave, and realized the thing on his forehead was actually a hand, and -
Then he passed out again.
~
When Tony became aware of things the second time, he made more of an effort to remain calm, despite the fact that he seemed to be in the same bed he’d been in before.
It was a little harder to do, however, once he a) tried to move and realized both his right arm and leg were immobilized, and b) looked to the right and saw the Winter Soldier again, this time sitting in a chair right next to the bed.
“What the fuck,” Tony gasped, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
The Soldier furrowed his brow and leaned forward, making Tony tense until he realized he was reaching for the side-table next to the bed and not Tony. When he leaned back, there was a cup in his hand.
“Do you think you can drink if I help you, or do you want me to get some more ice?” the Soldier asked, scooting closer to the bed and holding out the cup.
Tony stared at him. Then it registered that Soldier was actually talking to him, and he opened his mouth - only to realize how dry it felt.
“Water,” Tony choked, and tried to sit up, only to wince and fall back against the pillows. Then the Soldier was there, sliding an arm around Tony’s back and gingerly helping him to sit up, the cup carefully tilted towards Tony’s lips. Tony got three good swallows in before the cup was taken away and he was gently pushed back against the pillows, which would have pissed Tony off more if his back hadn’t been screaming at him to lay down again anyway.
“Okay, let’s try this again,” Tony said, after a few deep breaths through his nose. He turned his head and glared at the Soldier, who didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the expression. “What. The. Fuck?”
The Soldier cocked his head, then set the cup down. “Are you hungry? I have some broth simmering on the stove,” he said, which was still not an answer to Tony’s question.
Tony scowled, which pulled at the sore skin above his right eye and made his face hurt. “I don’t think you heard me. I said -”
“‘What the fuck’, yeah, I know, I heard you the first time,” the Soldier said patiently. “Hungry, yes or no?”
“I don’t want food,” Tony snapped, even though, just like with the water, now that he was aware of the option his stomach felt uncomfortably empty. “I want to know what the hell I’m doing here, and what I’m doing here with you!”
The Soldier sighed. “I’m not HYDRA, and I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, sitting back down and crossing his arms.
“I know who you are,” Tony retorted, and noticed the other man tense. “And I didn’t ask about HYDRA, I asked what I’m doing here with you.”
The Soldier - Barnes, Tony supposed he should call him - looked wary. Then Tony’s stomach chose that moment to betray him and let out a loud grumble, which seemed to flip some kind of switch in Barnes’s head.
“I’ll tell you while you eat,” he said decisively, his wariness suddenly replaced with what looked like determination.
~
Apparently, Tony had been shot down by one of HYDRA’s new missiles while flying near the base. The Winter Soldier, who’d been keeping a wary eye on the HYDRA base, had seen it happen, and then gotten to Tony before HYDRA could, prying him out of his suit and carrying him back to… wherever they were now, where he had then patched Tony up.
Which had been roughly a week ago.
“A week?” Tony repeated weakly, once Barnes was done laying out all the facts.
Barnes nodded. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness, but this is the first time you’ve really been aware enough to talk.” He paused, then bit the inside of his cheek. “Other than the time you woke up enough to tell me to shove the broth I was feeding you up my ass.”
“If it tasted anything like this, then I think I was justified,” Tony replied, wrinkling his nose at the cup of plain soup that was shaking in his left hand. Barnes had helped him take the first few sips, like with the water, before Tony had snatched it away and told him he could feed himself. Barnes clearly hadn’t believed him, but had let Tony try, though he’d continued to hover while he’d filled Tony in on what happened.
“Your leg’s broken, but set - the wrist’s a little trickier, but it seems to be just a sprain. Your cuts are all stitched up, and I don’t think any ribs are busted,” Barnes said, ignoring the remark about his cooking. “I was worried about your chest, because you kept clutching at it in your sleep, but I think you’re just all bruised up. Is it hurting?”
Tony grunted and hunched in on himself. Well, yes, but his entire body hurt, like one giant bruise. Apparently, HYDRA didn’t dick around with heavy artillery.
“No more than anything else,” he said evasively, which only made Barnes frown. “Look, Barnes -” Barnes flinched. “- I appreciate the first-aid, but if experience is anything to go by then my absence is probably causing a stir. I need to get back.”
Barnes hesitated. “I could take you to a hospital,” he said finally, after a few seconds of biting the inside of his cheek again. “I couldn’t take you to the one in town, because I figured that’d be one of the first places HYDRA would look. But I could get a car, take you to one of the ones a few towns over, and you could get in contact with your people there.”
“Or,” Tony suggested, tilting his cup towards Barnes and immediately regretting it when the cup almost slid out of his grasp. “I could call my team, get them to come here…”
‘And see you, too,’ Tony didn’t say, though he figured Barnes got the message anyway, if his scowl was anything to go by.
“No,” Barnes said, jaw clenched. “You’re not healthy enough to leave on your own for very long, and I’m not hanging around for - them,” he said quickly, and looked away.
Tony figured the ‘them’ was probably code for a certain blond in a patriotic outfit.
“Look, I know you’re not exactly into people, right now, and with what’s happened to you, I don’t blame you,” Tony said, leaning forward and trying not to wince when the move pulled at his back. “But you seem fine, to me - very un-murdery, which I thank you for, by the way - and I promise you, if you meet with my team, nobody - and that includes stubborn flag-wearing super soldiers - is going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?”
Barnes clenched and unclenched his jaw again, then crossed his arms. “He won’t like that,” he muttered, scowl back in full force.
Tony snorted. “Cap can deal,” he sniffed, and crossed his arms as well. Or, well, he tried to - the splint and bandages Barnes had put on his right arm kept him from actually moving it.
A fraction of a smile ghosted across Barnes’s lips before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
“You underestimate just how stubborn he is,” he said, before clearing his throat. “Tell you what - we’ll give you a few more days to heal, and if I think you’ll be okay to leave alone for a little while, we’ll call your team so they can pick you up. Deal?”
Tony squinted at him. “Does that mean you’re going to take off?”
Barnes raised his eyebrows, which was answer enough. “Do we have a deal?” he repeated.
Tony narrowed his eyes. Then he gave Barnes a quick nod, and leaned back against his pillows.
Maybe a few days would give Tony enough time to convince Barnes to come back with him, anyway.
~
“I am not drinking this,” Tony said, wrinkling his nose at the cup of tea on the tray before him. “And I’m definitely not eating that,” he added, and pointed at the bowl of… oatmeal? Porridge? Whatever if was, it looked like paste in a bowl, and Tony wasn’t touching it.
Barnes rolled his eyes. “It’s that or the broth,” he said, adding a napkin and a spoon to the tray. “And I already told you you couldn’t have coffee.”
Tony scowled up at him. “This is worse than hospital food,” he grumbled, looking down at the bowl of goop again and shuddering. “At least at the hospital, they give you jello.”
“I don’t have any jello. But If you eat it all, you can have an apple for dessert,” Barnes said, nodding seriously. “Now, do you need help, or can you feed yourself?”
Tony glowered at him. “I am not being fed like a giant baby,” he said, picking up the spoon with his left hand and dipping it into the bowl.
The first two spoonfuls ended up on the tray and in his lap, but he managed to get the third one to his mouth. It tasted as bad as Tony had expected, but Tony still shoveled a few more bites in just to prove to Barnes that he could, interspacing it with swings of the awful tea to help wash it down.
Tony had finished three quarters of the bowl and all of his tea when he noticed Barnes’s smug expression, and realized he’d been played.
“You…!” he sputtered, and pointed at Barnes with his spoon.
“I’ll get your apple,” Barnes said as he stood up, turning his head to hide the smile Tony saw anyway.
~
The wrist was a pain in the ass, and the cuts and bruises all hurt, but by far the worst part had to have been the leg.
“I can go by myself.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Just get me a cane, or a crutch, or -”
“No.”
“It’s five steps, Barnes -”
“And your leg is broken, Stark,” Barnes sighed, before tugging Tony’s good arm over his shoulders and supporting Tony’s weight.
They were making one of their many - and much hated, at least by Tony - bathroom trips, which was easily one of the most embarrassing things about the whole ordeal (aside from the incident when Barnes had presented Tony with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water, which Tony had made Barnes promise to never speak of again). Barnes didn’t seem to care, but it irked Tony, because it was only five steps, and he was pretty sure he could get there on his own if he leaned against the wall the whole way. Barnes, though, wouldn’t have it.
“If you fall or step wrong, you could hurt yourself even worse, and then where would you be?” Barnes continued as Tony hobbled along, which was what he always said whenever Tony complained about it.
“Able to take a leak on my own,” Tony griped, mostly to himself, since Barnes ignored him.
~
“I don’t want to hear a fucking word,” Tony said the next day, when Barnes came back from a grocery run and found Tony lying on the floor between his bed and the bathroom.
Tony was still yelled at and called a moron in five different languages, but dinner was slightly better that evening (Barnes had apparently taken Tony’s request for a hamburger to heart), and even included a jello cup Barnes had bought at the store.
~
Things got much worse when Tony caught a cold.
“It’s because you don’t eat enough,” Barnes grumbled, digging through the bag of supplies he’d just brought in. “And because you don’t cover up - I told you to keep those blankets on, but nooo…” He gave a little aha as he found what he’d been looking for, and pulled out a heavy, bulky-looking sweater. “Here,” he said, coming closer and holding the sweater up, as though he planned on putting it on Tony himself. “Put this on.”
“No,” Tony huffed, sitting up and swinging his good leg off the bed.
Barnes was undeterred. “You need to keep warm,” he said fretfully, eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he looked between the sweater and Tony.
Tony, knowing there was a very real chance Barnes was considering wrestling Tony into the sweater anyway, sighed, then motioned for Barnes to toss the thing to him.
“It’s a goddamn cold, Barnes, people catch them all the time,” he griped as he struggled to put it on, his bad arm giving him trouble. When Barnes moved to help him, Tony tried to bat his hands away, and nearly fell of the bed.
Barnes sighed. “Just lay down and get under the covers, Stark. I’ll make you some soup.”
“I don’t want soup,” Tony grumbled petulantly as he did what Barnes had ordered and got under the blankets. He actually was cold, and the sweater was warm and comfy, but he’d sooner stick his own finger in an electric outlet than admit either to Barnes.
Barnes stared heavenward. “What would you like, then?” he asked, with a surprising lack of sarcasm despite his expression.
Tony blinked at him, because Barnes had never actually asked him before now. “A grilled cheese sandwich,” he said finally, after wracking his brain for a few seconds.
Barnes raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “That’s it?”
Tony nodded and hunched under the blankets. He also wanted to ask for more tea, because it had felt good going down his sore throat earlier, but didn’t want Barnes knowing he was actually starting to like it.
Later, after Tony had eaten two grilled cheese sandwiches and lost an argument over his refusal to take cold medicine, Barnes stood up from the chair beside Tony’s bed and ran a hand through his hair.
“You are the second-most stubborn man-child I have ever had to take care of,” he said tiredly.
“I don’t need to be taken care of,” Tony sniffed. Even he knew better than to argue about the man-child remark. “I get by just fine on my own at home, I don’t need a damn babysitter.”
Barnes, who’d already turned around to head towards the little kitchenette across the room, paused. “You live by yourself?” he asked, turning around with an expression of - was that alarm? “I thought… doesn’t your team live you?”
“No, they live at the Avengers Compound,” Tony replied, blinking away the sudden drowsiness the stupid cold medicine he hadn’t even wanted to take had caused. “I live at the tower. By myself, now, since Pepper moved out.”
Tony thought the medicine must really be messing with him, because he could have sworn he saw Barnes grimace.
“What?” Tony asked around a jaw-cracking yawn.
Barnes shook his head. “Nothing, just… go to sleep, Stark.”
~
The next morning, after breakfast - fruit and a veggie omelet, because Barnes was still trying to get Tony to eat healthy - Barnes sat at the end of Tony’s bed and cleared his throat.
“I think I should take you back home,” he said, staring intently at what was left of Tony’s fruit. “If you think you feel well enough to go, that is.”
Tony paused, his cup of tea halfway to his mouth. “What happened to calling my team and taking off?” he asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously as he set his cup back down.
Barnes shrugged. “Well, I just thought…” He coughed. “That tower of yours got room for one more?”
Tony opened his mouth, then shut it. “Wait… are you asking if…?”
Barnes shrugged again. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to die without someone there to take care of you, and I can’t have that on my conscience on top of everything else,” he said, completely ignoring Tony’s indignant squawk and popping a leftover strawberry in his mouth.
Tony glared at him. Then he took another sip of his tea, which had more sugar in it today, because one of Tony’s many complaints about it had been the bitterness. Tony hadn’t actually asked Barnes to add the sugar, he’d just done it; just like he’d added extra blueberries to the fruit salad without Tony asking, because he’d noticed Tony picking them out and eating them first before.
“You’re going to come back with me whether I want you there or not, aren’t you?” Tony asked finally, swatting Barnes’s hand when he reached for another one of Tony’s strawberries.
Barnes was wearing his smug expression again, which didn’t tick Tony off as much as it probably should have. “Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tony protested, even though he was already planning things out in his head. Barnes could take Cap’s old floor, if he wanted, though Tony suspected he’d probably find it too much.
Barnes patted Tony’s hand and picked up his tray. “If you say so,” he said, mouth twitching.
“I’m a grown-ass man!”
“Are you going to see an actual doctor when we get back?”
“…why would I need to?”
Barnes made a face, and while Tony wasn’t sure, it sounded like he muttered, “Why do I always like the high-maintenance ones?” as he turned to walk the tray back.