Warning: Pregnancy complications

We've got two down, we're ten minutes out.

"He didn't say who it was," you muttered, looking over the tray of your emergency supplies laid out on the table before you. Bruce was only a few feet away, standing ready with his eyes on the hangar bay, anxiously waiting for the door to open so that the two of you could respond. "Steve didn't say who the two injured were, did he?"

"No, he didn't."

"Smart," you nodded, "one of them has to be Buck. Otherwise he would have told us. He's trying to keep from scaring me. That's smart."

"Hey, we don't know that yet, (Y/N). He probably just didn't have time to send more information than that. But yeah, let's try to stay calm, okay? The last thing you need is stress like this, but I can't do it by myself if they're both critical. You're the actual medical doctor here, so you've got the advantage."

"Right." With a deep breath, walking from one table to the next, your hand laid gently over your barely-there baby belly, you took one final inventory of equipment and medications, keeping your mind occupied to keep from envisioning your fiancé as the one you would have to work on. "Steve's a smart guy. Don't scare the pregnant lady."

"Here we go," Bruce announced, jolting you from your trance, slamming the doors open and pushing one gurney through as you pushed the other. The hangar bay doors finished opening and the quinjet came in for a landing, its own door beginning to open before the wheels had even touched the floor. He pushed forward first, calling out to Steve at the first sign of the Captain's form coming into sight. "Who do we have?"

You held your breath for the answer, seeing Tony and Steve beginning to emerge, each of them carrying someone but they were only shadows yet. As they stepped onto the ramp and towards you, allowing the lights of the hangar to hit them, your heart dropped into your stomach before they had a chance to answer Bruce's query.

"Romanoff and Barnes."

~~~

"I'll take Buck," you commanded, pushing your gurney forward to accept him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Bruce broke in, a hand up to stop Steve from setting him there, "(Y/N), you're compromised."

"Put him on the goddamn gurney, Steve," you snapped, throwing Bruce a glare with a fire in your eyes that would make even the Hulk take a step back. "I've got this." With a harsh pull back, the wheels rolled easily for you to bring him into the infirmary and to your station where you began to look at where to even start. He wasn't conscious, thankfully, and there was blood...everywhere.

"Steve, I need you," you called out to the Captain, who looked pale himself, worried about his best friend just as much as you were. "Help me get this uniform cut away. I need to see where the injuries are and he's too heavy to move him on my own."

The sounds of tearing material filled the space around you, and with a few grunts and sharp pulls, Bucky's shirt had been all but shredded in Steve's panic to help. "Okay," you sighed, pushing your stethoscope to his chest, "there's internal bleeding." You moved down to his abdomen, again listening and pressing in several areas, thankful to see him grimace in pain even in his unconsciousness; it meant that Bucky was still in there. "I need to get him into surgery. Bruce, how's...Nat..." you gasped, sucking in a harsh breath and grabbing your side at the sudden stabbing pain that gripped you.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asked, rushing to stand next to you. "What's happening?"

"Nothing...just a cramp, I'm fine."

"(Y/N)?" Bruce approached cautiously. "What kind of a cramp? Like something is wrong with the baby kind of cramp?"

"No, I said I'm fine," you waved them off harshly, returning your focus to Bucky. "Steve, help me push him to the surgical area. I'm right behind you, I just...I have to scrub in," you stalled, turning to go to the bathroom while he took his friend away. Once you were out of their sight, you doubled over and tried to slow your breathing, trying to focus on staying quiet under the pain. "It's just stress," you whispered to yourself, "just calm down, (Y/N). He's going to be okay. You have to do this. It's just stress."

"(Y/N)," Steve appeared suddenly next to you, taking your arm gently to help you stand, "tell me."

"I can't lose them both today, Steve," you answered in a whisper, your voice shaking as much as his hand on you was now, "so I'm going to need you in there with me. Suit up."

~~~

It could have been days, or even weeks that Bucky had been out after Steve had brought his broken body home to you to repair, but he had no way to know for sure when his eyes finally opened. The room around him was filled with monitors beeping and the smell of antiseptics and medications stinging his nostrils; he was also feeling very terrifyingly alone.

"(Y/N)?" he groaned, his voice scratchy and barely audible after days without speaking. "Steve?"

"Hey, man," Steve answered, "you finally decided to join us." He gave Natasha a quick kiss to her forehead before turning his chair to face Bucky instead, "how ya feelin'?"

"Like hell. Where's (Y/N)?"

Steve's smile fell just slightly, but not so little that his friend didn't take notice. He cleared his throat nervously and glanced over his shoulder to Bruce, who looked away just as quickly as if to bring his attention to Natasha instead and avoiding the topic all together. "We've kind of...confined her to her room. She needed a break after all of this."

"Is she okay?"

"She'll be fine, Buck."

"Meaning no," he answered angrily now, reaching up to rip the IV from his arm, tossing monitor cords aside and sitting up abruptly with a grimace and a sharp wince in pain. He didn't let it slow him for more than a second, pushing past Steve on his way to see you for himself. Bruce was next to try to stop him, putting himself into Bucky's direct path.

"Barnes, lay down. You're in no shape to leave this room."

"Move, Doc."

"You're going to undo all of the work that (Y/N) did to save you. Are you really going to take that risk of her seeing you do it? Are you going to be that ungrateful?"

"That's not what I'm doing," he growled in reply. His metal hand closed tightly in response to his anger and the plates of his arm began to shift, a detail not lost on Banner as his eyes drifted to it to watch. "Doc, please move before I do something that I don't want to do."

"I could say the same," Bruce countered, allowing his eyes to take on the familiar green glow as they looked back, pleading his teammate to stop. "I'll win, Bucky, and she'll just have to come back to fix you all over again. Please, just go lay down. I'll get her here, alright?"

"Buck, he's right," Steve added, slowly moving across the room and taking a place just behind him, "come on. I'll go get her myself."

Bucky looked from Bruce and to Steve, considering his next move; they were both right, he was too weak yet to fight, but the voice in his head was so loud and hard to ignore; it wanted him to push through, the only goal being to see you with his own eyes. He considered the outcome if he reinjured himself just to see you and the berating you would have ready. He definitely didn't want that, and ultimately, he decided to relent; his shoulders dropped as he let out a loud sigh, turning to Steve to allow his friend to give him a hand back onto his gurney.

~~~

"Bump," Steve said quietly, pushing you along in a wheelchair through the halls of the compound, moving slowly over the rough entry to the elevator. He was being so diligently careful and so gentle with every movement; so much so that even his voice was softer than you had ever heard it in all of your years of knowing him. Being with his best friend had made you his family too, and he wasn't about to be the cause of even the smallest pain for you.

"I'm not going to break, Steve."

"You don't know that."

"Actually, I do," you smiled to yourself, allowing a small laugh to escape your lips. "I can show you my degree if it helps to convince you."

"Hey now, I became a Captain by wearing tights and carrying an aluminum shield. How do I know that you didn't just put your name on some fancy paper?"

"I really hope that you're trying to be funny," you groaned, hearing him laugh behind you. "You also had your hand inside Bucky's chest a few days ago, but that doesn't mean you just get to be a doctor, sorry."

"Yeah," he coughed, his tone growing serious again, "about that. Let's keep that between you and me, alright? I don't think he would want to know that I was your assistant for that."

"No, can't see that he would."

You could hear him take a deep breath behind you as he turned the last corner, crossing the threshold of the infirmary unceremoniously, but still drawing Bucky's attention nonetheless. He raised a hand to stop Bucky from getting up to greet you, taking his steps longer and quicker to close the gap between the two of you before he could stand. "Hey, man, told ya. Here she is."

"Doll," he sighed in relief, his eyes searching you up and down to convince himself that you were really there and really okay like everyone had said, "I'm sorry that I worried you so much. I'm sorry you had to be here when I came in."

"I'm not, Buck. I'd rather treat you myself than worry about what anyone else was doing."

He pushed himself up slowly, his hand splinting his side where the incision that you had made was nearly healed. He grimaced just enough to still catch your attention, making you stand to meet him, pulling up his shirt so you could see for yourself how he was doing. "Hey, sit back down," he ordered, pushing your hand away.

"Let me look," you scolded in reply, moving your hand back into place. "That's an order."

Bucky's hand reluctantly slid away, much to Steve's amazement and stare as he watched with his mouth agape, "how did you do that?"

"Don't worry, Steve, you'll get your own bossy lady someday. Hey," Bucky gasped, "ouch! What was that?"

"Don't call me bossy. I'll make it hurt worse next time."

The three of you sat in silence after that, Bucky's gaze finding its way to Natasha as she talked with Bruce and looking so much better than even a few hours before. He was injured trying to get to her, but he didn't want to tell you that; he had promised to not get into harm's way if he could help it, but when he saw her in trouble, all of that went right out of his head and he had to act. Now he worried that his momentary lapse in his promise had been more damaging than if he had just held steady. "(Y/N)," he began softly and unable to wait any longer, "are you okay?"

"Yep," you replied quickly, your hands continuing their work, keeping your eyes on them and deliberately avoiding his.

"And the baby?"

"Fine."

"So why did they confine you to your room then? You're in your pajamas and you look like you were asleep. He brought you down here in a wheelchair," he persisted, "so don't lie to me."

"I'm not. We're okay. It...it was just stress," you finally admitted. "I thought I was losing you, and there was a lot going on. I had a few complications, but they passed. My doctor came out here and forced me onto bedrest for a while until everything settles down. We're fine."

"I'm sorry, it's my fault." Bucky pushed your hands away again and stood, despite your renewed efforts to keep him down. "I took the hit for Natasha, and I could hear your voice in my head telling me to stop the whole time. I wouldn't listen to it, and now you're paying for my stupidity. You could've lost...I don't know what I would've done..." his voice cracked, leaning his head down against your shoulder as he pulled you to him, "I'm supposed to protect you."

"You protected Nat, that's good. I'm proud of you, Buck."

"You are?" he sniffled quietly, lifting his head to wipe a quick swipe of his sleeve over his nose before returning to his safe, nuzzled spot against your neck.

"Every day," you reassured him, pushing back so that he would stand and you could see his face, "and our son will always know how much of a hero his dad really is."

"Son?" The tears that had been threatening to spill dried almost immediately, and the sadness was gone from his expression with a wide smile replacing the pout that had been on his lips only seconds before. "We're having a boy?"

"I found out right before you left," you nodded, "I was going to tell you when you got back, but you kept me a little too busy to get around to it with the whole unconscious, trying to die thing you were doing."

"Again, very sorry," he mumbled before turning to Steve. "Did you hear that, Steve? A boy!"

"I did, Buck, congratulations! And you, (Y/N), I sure hope you're ready," he smirked, crossing the room to stand next to his friend and dropping a heavy arm over his shoulders, "this kid here was a holy terror back in the day. You've got your work cut out for you twice over."

The look Steve was giving you let you know that he had only shared maybe a small part of the stories he had about Buck, and you were now afraid to ask to know any more. It wasn't only Bucky and your son that you had to worry about; Uncle Steve was quite the troublemaker himself, and you suddenly began to feel the overwhelming nerves and sense of being completely outnumbered.

"You know what," you sighed, turning to leave, "bedrest has never sounded better. I need to get as much sleep now as I can."