@sunamun23 : your requested sequel

@Olivia_123_liv : working in parts of your request

Tony was having the worst week. It was always like that when you were gone for any length of time, as if your presence kept the world around him stable and less likely to piss him off. You had been running around Manhattan with Natasha and Wanda, preparing for your wedding only a few days away, and Tony had barely seen you for more than a minute each day. You had been staying with Maria in the city out of pure convenience, but it also gave your nuptials a feeling of excitement in keeping the two of you apart beforehand. Two days into the idea, Tony was ready to run off and elope just to be done with it all.

Monday, he set the toaster on fire when he ran to the lab after an idea struck him in the middle of getting his breakfast ready.

Tuesday, he broke his little toe on a corner taken too quickly, running from the lab and back to the brand-new toaster before the fire alarms could go off again.

Wednesday, he overslept and missed a very important meeting at Stark HQ because he refused to leave his breakfast to burn again. This one wasn't so bad, actually; he hated meetings and Pepper covered better than he would've anyway.

Thursday, the toast was saved, but he couldn't find his favorite socks. Or, more accurately, he couldn't find both of them. He wanted to wear them for the wedding the next day, but this day had been a complete loss after being consumed by the search.

But Friday...the day of the big event that was supposed to be the happiest of his life, that was the worst of them. It may have been one of his top five worst days ever. No, definitely top two.

"Definitely number one" Tony mumbled to himself. He would gladly rip his chest open again and endure as much torture as anyone could bring, just to make this day end any way other than this. He would take any of his other worst days to make this one stop.

"We'll find her, Tony."

As Tony paced the length of the compound's conference room over and over again, his mind was racing too fast to track the thoughts barraging him, and none of them were good ones. His bowtie was loose, the black silk cloth hanging precariously from his neck and threatening to fall away with any step. He looked down at his hands, useless and bloodied, covered with a mix of his and yours from his failed attempt to hold on as they pulled you away. His brand-new platinum wedding band was dull and covered in a hazy red, dulling its shine beneath the terror. The deep scratches in his palms from your fingernails as you tried to hold on were numb despite the damage; or maybe it was that his heart hurt so much more that he didn't notice. Yep, he'd gladly tear his chest open now, just to make it stop.

"I've been a husband for five hours..." Tony muttered again under his breath, talking to no one. "That's gotta be a record for fuck ups."

"Tony, come on, you should sit down," Steve tried, pulling out a chair from the long table, but his friend waved it away.

"I wanted to have the reception here, but she wouldn't have it. Said we're here enough as it is," he continued on, his voice still barely a whisper. "I wasn't ready. I should've done more."

When Tony was just about within the distance of his reach, Steve tried to give him a hand of support, but instead he was left to hurry forward to steady his teammate as he dropped to his knees with the first sensation of contact. Steve had never seen Tony cry before; maybe a few tears escaping here and there, but never like this. He had never seen the man so fully broken, and it terrified him. "Hey, it's okay...I've got you."

On the other side of the room sat a man nearly as broken but refusing to let anyone see the raging fear that churned inside him. Bucky sat silent on the floor, his back pressed to a wall in the far corner of the room where the light barely reached him, where he could find some comfort in the darkness. He had been saying your name over and over since the moment you were taken, trying desperately to get you to connect. The silence in his mind was driving him mad with each attempt, but that wouldn't stop him from trying. "She won't answer," he finally spoke fully aloud, drawing the attention of everyone around him.

"She's dead," Tony said flatly, taking his head in his hands, "I did this."

"Or she's just knocked out," Steve tried, giving Tony a gentle shake of his shoulders. "We can't start thinking that way, Tony, come on. It's only been an hour. Demands haven't even come in yet to get her back."

"When they do...whatever they want from me," Stark answered sternly now, "don't argue and just hand it over. I don't care if it breaks me. I'll get a job at McDonald's to get by if I have to. You give them everything."

"We're not going to let it come to that," Steve tried to reassure him. He gave him one more gentle shake and a supportive tap on the shoulder to prove his determination, turning away to begin planning for how they were going to find you. But Steve was a realist, and he knew this was a long shot with so little to go on. In the midst of explosions and screams, he struggled to put it all together in the moment, his focus being to protect you and Tony. In a flash of confusion, you were torn away, with no trace of who the mastermind could have been. The best he could do now was to follow protocol, and to pray.

"Nat, watch all of the hospitals in the tri-state area, and expand the perimeter every hour," he whispered, out of Tony's earshot. "Clint...watch the morgues."

Clint's eyes widened in pure shock of what was being asked of him, looking at Steve as if he had just spoken in tongues like it was nothing. "Cap, you can't be serious? You said so yourself, it's only been an hour."

"It's an hour that we've lost, and the clock keeps ticking. Move."

~~~

"(Y/N), come on. Just a whisper, that's all I'm lookin' for here, doll. Give me somethin'."

Bucky was doing his best to hold it together, only because he wanted his mind to be fully present when you finally connected; he believed that you would, and that it was just a matter of time. He was barely more optimistic than Tony was, and the two men had yet to speak to each other about what had happened. It was all bubbling under the surface, and it wouldn't take much to create an explosion not unlike the ones they had just survived.

"Honey, please, wake up. I know you're just sleeping. You have to be just sleeping."

"Buck..."

"(Y/N)?! (Y/N), is that you?" Bucky was practically screaming, his voice carrying your name with a billowing echo that got everyone's immediate attention. The room began to fill again with those who had left to begin their search, every one of them now staring at him with excitement and expectation. He stood and looked from face to face, and one was glaringly missing. The only one who really needed to hear this. "Someone get Stark."

"On it," Sam nodded, hurrying from the room.

"Doll, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay?" He waited for a few seconds to pass, but nothing more came. "Honey, I know you're there. Please, let me see where you are. I know it might be hard to do, but you gotta try. Tony needs you." Bucky hoped that the mention of your new husband's name might surge some energy through you enough to let him fully connect. His own body was so filled with anxious energy that he would gladly send it all your way if he could. "(Y/N), please..."

Steve held his breath in anticipation, his gaze locked with his best friend, the communication happening between them obvious to everyone nearby. The tension in the room was palpable after you wouldn't answer again, and Bucky started to think that what he heard was a product of his fear in an overactive imagination. Maybe he just wanted to hear that sound so much that his mind finally gave in just to salvage some of his sanity. He sat back on the floor with a heavy thud of his exhausted form, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. He considered not trying again, for just the tiniest moment of time, and he regretted his lack of faith immediately. His head began to swim and his stomach flipped into familiar knots; it was the best feeling in the world. It was the feeling of you trying to reach him. It was the feeling of you being alive.

"That's right, Doll, you can do it. Open those beautiful eyes for me so I can see. Help me find you."

At that moment, Tony hurried into the room again, looking nothing like the devastated form that had left it not long before. He had a renewed energy and dare he think a little bit of faith. His eyes locked with Steve first, but an audible gasp from your soulmate had him rushing to stand over him, waiting for the only words he wanted to hear. "Barnes? Tell me something I want to hear."

Bucky's entire body was shaking, his skin pale and sweaty as he looked up at the man, "I know where she is."

With only that, Tony gave a few taps to the casing held at the center of his chest and he was enveloped by his suit within seconds, stepping quickly to the door to push it open and ready to fly. But the unspoken question hung heavy in the room, and Tony was a man with no patience for waiting for it to clear. "Barnes, now. Tell me."

Bucky tried to push himself up to stand, to say the words that choked in his throat and left him with an unabating nausea fed by guilt like he had never known. He put his hand to the wall to guide himself up, only to stumble and drop back to the floor just as quickly when his sweaty palm slid to break his balance. He heard Steve move to try to help, but he didn't want anyone touching him; he didn't want any compassion at all.

"Tony...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he finally spoke, his voice trembling and cracked, "but they didn't take her because of you. They took her because of me."