“Former captain in the Army Rangers, briefly Captain America, and current Avenger, John Walker, was taken this morning by an as-of-yet unidentified man,” host of ZNN, Lindsay Carter, said. “Witnesses say that he went peacefully so that a hostage would be released. Could this be the redemption of America’s resident bad boy? If you have any information, please call our hotline. Tune in at five for more updates.”

Ava angrily shut the TV off, barely keeping herself from throwing the remote against the wall. 

The same people who had been slandering them for the last six months (and Walker got most of the heat because of the “unjust” killing thing that had happened years ago, which was such a load of crap ) and now they were all changing their tunes. It was infuriating. She wanted to beat them all until all the rage was out of her system. She wanted blood.

Her friend was gone. Taken by a man they couldn’t identify, to a place they couldn’t find, even with all of their money and tech. 

She and John were supposed to be watching a movie right about then, a new one that they had been waiting for the release on streaming. They should’ve been making fun of the bad writing of the film, laughing, and eating disgusting junk food, as was their tradition.

But John was gone.

And they couldn’t find him.

Ava had lost enough people in her lifetime. She couldn’t lose another. 

“We’ll find him,” Bucky promised her. 

The group had gathered for a meeting. Once the news had hit social media, it had gone viral. It even made international news. It gave them no room to come up with a plan before they were bombarded from all sides of the world, asking why the hell John, an Avenger, had been buying groceries like a normal person. Why he was alone. Why they let him get taken. 

Suffice to say, everyone had gone nuts for a couple of hours before Bucky rangled them all down.

He was trying to keep them all together, keep them from cracking apart, but he looked an inch away from a breakdown himself. His hair, which was usually styled to perfection, was a ratty mess. His eyes held dark circles that rivalled her own, and his shoulders held an uncharacteristic slump.

“And how exactly will we do that? All we’ve found are dead ends,” Ava snapped. “He’s gone, and we have no leads. What the hell are we supposed to do with that?”

She shouldn’t be mad at Bucky. But she was so pissed off at everything , and he was the easiest target. 

Bucky clenched his jaw before sighing tightly. “We aren’t the only ones investigating this. Mel just messaged me—the US Army has identified the man who kidnapped Walker and is now conducting the rescue efforts.”

Bob frowned, arms crossed. “Why would they investigate this in the first place? John was discharged.”

Bucky scratched the side of his face. “This has something to do with Walker’s military career. Something classified. That’s why.”

Ava bit her lip. John hated talking about his time as a soldier. He would sometimes brag about all his awards, but even then, it was half-hearted. She wasn’t even sure how long he’d served, or why. It had never really clicked with her that he’d been important —someone who knew classified things, state secrets. The kind of stuff that got you kidnapped. 

“Who is the man who took John?” Yelena asked, voice rough. 

Once Yelena had heard the news, she’d cried silently and hid. Ava had been in a blind rage and almost attacked her—because if she just did her damn chores, if she didn’t slack off for the millionth time and make John pick it up for her—but Bob and Bucky had both grabbed her at the same time and hadn’t left her alone until she calmed down.

It wasn’t Yelena’s fault. She knew that. Whatever this was, it was premeditated. It would’ve happened another day, most likely, if she had done her damn job. 

(She wanted to say that meant she forgave her. She wanted to say that she still wasn’t so angry, her vision was red.)

(She couldn’t.)

Bucky’s face was so grim, lips pressed so tight they were white, and brow drawn so close together that it looked like he was having a stroke. “They call him the Doctor…he works for terrorists, warlords, corrupt politicians, you name it. The scum of the earth. They hire him to send a message. To punish.”

Ava’s stomach dropped. She’d heard of the Doctor before in her days as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and a woman on the run. 

She felt bile rise in her throat. 

He destroyed people. Sawed them to the bone, put them back together, and then burned them alive. He was a sadist and a demon. She’d seen pictures of his victims before. They looked more like meat than people. 

And he had John.

Her best friend, John.  

The guy who couldn’t watch WALL-E without crying. The guy who went thirty minutes out of his way whenever he got the groceries to get the special coffee she liked. The guy who held her when she cried. The guy who laughed at all her stupid jokes.

He was with a man who tore apart souls for fun. 

He was with a man who would torture him until he gave up on life and betrayed whatever he believed in. 

She put a hand over her mouth and barely kept from gagging. 

“What?” Yelena said, eyes widening at her reaction. “Who is this man?”

The Doctor had been around a while, but he’d really made his claim to fame during the Blip. He made a fortune and a real name for himself in the chaos. Yelena hadn’t been there for that. She didn’t know. 

“Imagine the devil, and you’ve got a pretty good image in mind,” Ava said, wiping her mouth off. “He’s perverse. He gets off on destroying people's will to live.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah. That’s him.”

No one knew what to say next. The silence was stifling. They all knew what their friend was going through, and all they could do was sit and wait for the Army to get its ass moving and find John. The organization that had dropped John like a hot potato and abandoned him. Slandered him. Yeah, Ava didn’t hold out a lot of hope that they were planning on finding him alive.

“We can’t rely on John’s old employers to find him. We need to keep trying ourselves,” Ava said, determination setting in her bones. “Use every connection and turn over every rock. Every second we waste is another John is at the hands of that scum bag of a man.”

John would be found and saved. If Ava had to scour the entire planet herself, kill the Doctor’s entire network, force her body to its breaking point, she would . 

She would not lose another person. 

She would not lose John .

*

*

*

Ava had phased away the second she’d made her plan known, and the rest had quickly followed suit.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.

The day had gone to hell in a handbasket almost as soon as he’d woken up.

Walker had been kidnapped. Kidnapped. Taken captive by a man so renowned for his skills that it even made Bucky nauseous. The stuff he’d heard about him…Bucky’s skin thrummed with energy—anxiety, anger, he couldn’t really tell—at the thought of him being in the Doctor’s hands. 

Bucky hadn’t been prepared for this. 

He’d always known there was a risk, that one day someone might not come home from a mission, but they were in New York , their home base. It should’ve been safe . It wasn’t a mission or a combat zone, Walker had just been buying groceries . And now he was gone.

If Bucky had known that Walker had secret enemies in his past—and he really should’ve assumed he would have ghosts in his past—he never would’ve let him go out and about alone and unsafe. 

He would’ve done something. 

He would’ve protected him. 

He would’ve—

Bucky took in a deep breath. He needed to get it under control. He needed to find Walker and get him the hell away from the Doctor before he could do any damage. 

He unlocked his phone and dialed an old friend, hoping he’d answer. 

It was answered almost instantly.

“Bucky, I heard the news,” Sam said. 

Some of the tension was released in his shoulders. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s not good, Sam. I don’t know what to do.”

“Whatever help you need, man, I’m there.”

Things had been uncertain between them in the past couple of months. Sam was trying to cobble his own team together and didn’t understand what Bucky was doing with the New Avengers. He saw it as a betrayal of some sort, Bucky guessed. He hadn’t exactly given Bucky a chance to explain the finer details of the whole fiasco. 

But, no questions asked, he was ready to help him. 

“Thanks, Sam. We’re trying to track him down. Any help you could give on that front would be a godsend.”

“You got it,” Sam said. “Joaquin and I can fly up tomorrow if you need us. Just hang in there, we’ll find him. Walker is too stubborn to die.”

Bucky chuckled weakly. “I know you two don’t have the warmest relationship, but we really messed up with him. He’s a good guy when you give him a chance.”

Looking back at when he had first met Walker, he had a lot of regrets. He’d been so full of rage and lost because Steve and everyone else he’d ever known were dead, and he’d taken it out on him. And while Walker was completely responsible for his own actions, Bucky couldn’t help but feel things would’ve played out differently if he and Sam had played nice.

“I guess I’ll have to give him another shot when we find him. Maybe we’ll catch a beer together, or a football game,” Sam proposed. 

“I think he’d like that.”

It would be good for everyone if they finally put the past behind them. Righted their wrongs. 

Bucky just hoped he got the chance to do so.

*

*

*

“It’s out of our hands,” Val said, and Yelena had to keep herself from jumping her. 

John was gone , taken , and she couldn’t even be bothered to fake looking sad. In fact, there was almost glee in her expression, like she saw this as a marketing opportunity. 

“What the hell does that mean?” She asked, her voice low and threatening. Bob was tense at her side, also glaring at Val. 

Val sighed, pinching her nose. “That man who took John? He’s on about fifty separate government watch lists. This doesn’t have anything to do with the New Avengers—it’s Army business. They’ll be the ones leading the investigation. And they want us to stay out of it.”

Yelena scoffed. “Doesn’t have anything to do with us! John is a member of our team! How much more involved could we get?”

“Why wouldn’t they want us to help? We’re the Avengers,” Bob said, arms crossed. “And John isn’t a part of the Army anymore. They shouldn’t be the ones leading the investigation.”

She hadn’t even thought of that. It was odd that they would be leading the investigation since they had kicked John out. 

“Let me put it to you softly, kids,” Val said, tone completely bored. “John is as good as dead. Or maybe even worse—he’s alive, and that man will torture him until he dies. They don’t want you to come in and get all emotional and blow the operation. This is all connected to John’s military career, thus the investigation. They aren’t looking for him, they’re looking for the man who killed him.”

No.

John wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. They were going to save him, and he was going to be fine. Everything would be fine. John always got back up when he got hit, no matter how hard. He would make it through this. He had to. 

They just had to find him.

“John isn’t dead,” Bob said, his voice tense. “Say that again, and you’ll regret it.”

Yelena turned towards him. 

Shit.

His eyes were golden.

“Bob,” she said, voice as calm as she could make it. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

His head tilted towards her. “She’s not even going to try and help us save John. She doesn’t care .”

Yelena grabbed one of his hands. “She doesn’t care about anything. That’s her whole thing. We don’t need her help to find John.”

“But—”

She tugged on his hand. “Let’s go, Bob. We don’t need her.”

She dragged him out of the room, and the gold started to fade from him. She let out a sharp breath. 

Bob stumbled against the wall. “I’m sorry. I just—how can she talk that way? She and John worked together for years , and she doesn’t care at all. She said all that stuff without even blinking…she couldn’t care less if John is tortured or dead or worse.”

Yelena gripped his hand tightly. “Val is a narcissistic sociopath. She doesn’t care for anyone but herself. It’s infuriating, but we have to keep it together. For John.”

Bob nodded weakly. “Okay. I’ll try. For John.”

*

*

*

“We can handle finding Captain Walker on our own. It’ll just complicate matters if you are involved,” Colonel Sheppard said, hands behind his back and shoulders straight in military precision. 

He was their liaison with the Army (and other Government agencies that were running the investigation), and he wasn’t very welcoming. Bob wasn’t sure what the point was of sending him if he was just going to tell them to pack up and shut up.

John had been missing for almost a week, and they had no leads. Bucky had reached out to all his contacts (even Pepper freaking Potts), Ava had disappeared multiple times on recon missions but had shown up with nothing, Yelena had also asked some of her contacts (including Hawk Eye) and Alexei had been doing whatever it was he did. Nothing.  

It was like John had never even existed. 

Bucky had gathered Bob and Yelena to meet with him (Ava and Alexei were MIA).

John was their friend, their brother. They’d be the ones to find him. 

“We are the Avengers, surely we can only help you find him?” Yelena said, her voice borderline disdainful. 

“Captain Walker is our responsibility,” Sheppard said. “We’ve given you your chance to handle the rescue operation, and it has led nowhere. Once he is back in the States, he can decide what he wants to do with you.”

There was something in his tone that set Bob off. It was almost resentment or disgust. 

And he kept calling him Captain.

“He is no longer a captain. Why do you keep calling him that?” Bob asked.

Sheppard’s gaze turned towards him. It was hard. “He is a captain. He always will be. His discharge was a sham trial to cover some politcians asses” He paused, and his voice sharpened. “ Do you have a problem with me calling him captain?”

“N-no,” Bob said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was just wondering. You talk about him differently than most people.”

Sheppard's gaze lost a little of the hostility it had. “I knew him. He saved my ass around fifteen years ago. He was a good soldier. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. Was a shame what happened to Lemar.”

A good soldier . The way the press talked about him, it sounded like he was the worst Army Ranger to ever serve. Like he was evil since birth, tainted in some way. A shame to the country he gave his life to. 

(Not that Bob ever believed that. John was weird in that he said asshole-ish things all the time, but his actions were always kind. He always looked out for the people around him, even if they hated him. Almost like his words were a defense mechanism—a way to keep people from getting too close.)

But the Colonel talked about him with reverence. The complete opposite of what Bob was used to hearing about John’s military career. 

And who the hell was Lemar?

Bucky grimaced at the name, so he clearly knew who he was. Did it have something to do with Bucky and John’s mysterious first meeting that they refused to talk about? Was he dead?

“We don’t want to get in the way, we just want to help. You and your people can lead the investigation for all I care, but we will be there when you find him,” Bucky said, voice brokering no argument. “And no offense, Colonel, but your people abandoned him first. Don’t act like you’re better than us. You may have been friends with him fifteen years ago, but we are his family now.”

Yelena had a smug look on her face, and Bob choked on his own spit. 

No subtlety or tact at all—just a punch to the face telling him that he had to work with them. It was the only way anyone on the team knew how to talk. 

He was right. 

John was theirs. They’d be the ones to get him back. 

Sheppard gave Bucky an assessing look, sizing him. “Very well, Sergeant Barnes. I guess we both have sins we have to ask forgiveness for.” Bob glanced at Bucky, because what did that mean? “I’ll have one of my men send you all the information we have over. We have a briefing tomorrow at 0900, be prepared, or don’t expect further cooperation.”

And with that, Colonel Sheppard left. 

“Who is Lemar?” Yelena asked, her eyes fixed on Bucky.

“He was a good man.”

Was.

Bob’s heart fell for the man he didn’t even know. Yelena’s expression also fell, her eyes distraught and lips slightly open and pointed downwards. 

“The rest is up for Walker to tell you. It’s not my story to tell.”

There always seemed to be ghosts surrounding John. He’d get this faraway stare sometimes, or glance to his left like he expected someone to be there. His face would fall every time he looked because no one—or least not the person he was looking for—was there. 

Was Lemar one of his ghosts?

“We’re going to find him,” Bucky said firmly. “We just need to keep looking.”

Bob knew they would find him. They would never rest until they did, and now they had the US Government on their side. 

But would John survive. 

Every second that went by that he was with the Doctor was one he was being tortured. He was in hell, from what Bob had gathered. 

Bob had this sinking feeling in his gut that even when they found him, be it in two hours or two weeks, the John they found would not be the man they knew. He never would be again. The thought made him nauseous because it was John. He was a big doufous with a big heart. He was like the older brother that Bob had never had—he’d taught Bob how to tie a tie for a gala, watched football religiously with him every week, sparred with him on occasion, and looked out for him always. 

The thought that that man was gone made the Void want to come out.

He wanted to destroy everything. He wanted them to feel his pain— John’s pain.

But he kept a tight hold on it. John wouldn’t want him to hurt people. He’d want him to move on, to be happy and Void-free. 

But that feeling didn’t leave his gut. It was constantly rolling and waiting for things to get worse. 

He hoped he was wrong.

But he didn’t think he would be.

*

*

*

Alexei was of no use in finding John, his comrade. 

He had no connections, no power, unless they went back to Mother Russia. But even then, he had more enemies than allies. 

It was shameful.

It was almost like he was failing his children again. Two weeks, and they had made no progress in finding him besides hitting a couple of bases that were decoys. The Doctor was playing with them.

To make it worse, they had to call on Captain America for help. The man who had been trying to rip apart his team. Tried to sue them. But he put aside his grievances. Anything to find John would be worth it. 

Captain America and Falcon moved into the Watchtower and helped with the search. It was not a pleasant experience for any parties involved, except perhaps Bucky. He greatly enjoyed the comfort of his traitorous friend. 

Falcon was tolerable. He was like baby bird—fluffy and huggable. Alexei liked him. He was already working on plan to get him to join their team. They needed someone who could fly, and he was very nice. 

“Does he hate me or something?” Sam Wilson whispered not so quietly to Bucky.

Bucky grunted. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure he’s planning on killing you once we find Walker.”

Alexei groaned. “Why you give away plans? They won’t work now.”

Sam balked. “What? You were serious?”

Bucky took a sip of his coffee, eyes a million miles away. “Deadly.”

“Why?” The captain asked, eyes wide.

Alexei glared. “You attack my team. I attack you. Simple.” 

It was no personal vendetta—though he would love to spar with him and destroy him physically—it was his resentment and disdain for his team and family that set him off. No one was allowed to attack his team without retribution. 

“You mean the lawsuit?” The captain said slowly.

“Yes.” He paused. “But it does not matter now. We must find John before we settle this matter. He would not want to be left out, you see.”

John was his number one supporter in keeping the title. Alexei was not sure if it was because he thought it was funny or because he believed in it like Alexei did; either way, the support was appreciated. 

“Of course,” the captain nodded solemnly. 

The absence of his friend was gaping. He was loud and brash and filled a room with his spirit, like a true Russian did. Without him in the Tower…it was empty. 

Alexei knew his friend would be missing a few of his favorite things, so he took notes on all his favorite shows and saved them for him for when he got back. He also went ahead and purchased his usual snacks and drinks. He would need them once he returned. 

He held out hope for his friend's safe return. It was all he could do.

*

*

*

Meeting Bucky’s team was a surreal experience. Yelena and Bob watched him distrustfully, Ava straight up threatened him to his face, and Alexei had plans to kill him, apparently. 

(He was a little jealous about how well Joaquin fit in with them. They didn’t trust him, but they definitely liked him more than Sam. He was slightly worried about the way Alexei eyed him.)

But when they were together (and not watching him suspiciously), they moved efficiently as a unit and worked together seamlessly. They all had an intense sadness about them. Something that was exacerbated by Walker’s disappearance, but definitely had some underlying causes. 

From what Bucky had told him, which was next to nothing, they all had skeletons in their closets and some messed-up lives. They were like mirrors of a younger Bucky. 

It was harder to resent them when he lived with them and got to know them slightly as real people. They were just trying to get by and help people. Their goals weren’t so different than Sam’s. 

There was something of an idea forming in his head, but he didn’t dare voice it. 

If they didn’t find Walker, if he died, the team wouldn’t survive. It would crack and crumble to dust under that loss. It was already starting to. The team wasn’t really a team ; it was a family, that much was clear to Sam. It wouldn’t be able to take losing a brother.

John Walker brought a series of complex emotions to Sam’s mind. That year hadn’t been his best. He’d given up the shield when he shouldn’t have. He’d helped break an international criminal out of prison. He’d taken the shield back, but had destroyed a man in doing so. That man had been a little bit of an asshole, but still. 

He wanted to hate him. Maybe did a little. He’d bloodied Steve’s legacy in public—but had that been a justified killing? Had he been a danger to the people around him, and needed to be taken out of the picture before he could hurt more people? 

And he remembered when Riley died. His best friend. He remembered the pain and the horror and the emptiness. Like the world had gone gray and nothing mattered. It had taken him years to heal from that. 

So he could understand why Walker was so out of it. He knew firsthand just how disorientating it was to lose someone like that. 

But he didn’t regret taking the shield back. That was his responsibility. His job. 

It was confusing. 

But it didn’t matter because—

“Positive identification—the Doctor was spotted in Germany leaving a warehouse. We’ve got him,” Colonel Sheppard informed them. “We leave in five. Be there or be left behind.”

*

*

*

(Ava phased in and out of existence in place. John was found. They were going to save him. And she was going to kill that evil rat bastard who’d kidnapped him, and then kill the people who’d hired him. 

But that could come later because— John was found. )

(Yelena would’ve cried with joy if she hadn’t been so pumped up with adrenaline. They were going to save him. He was going to be back, and finally everything would be right again.)

(Bob bit his fingers anxiously. He didn’t get to come on the rescue mission. He was a liability. He had to stay behind and wait for the news on whether or not his friend was alive. Whether his mind was still whole.

He prayed that the John who was coming home was theirs. But he didn’t think it would be.)

(Alexei paced up and down the Quinjet, muttering in Russian under his breath. He would not fail his friend—his comrade, his son. This time, he would do things right. He wouldn’t fail as a father.)

*

*

*


Bucky and Sam led the infiltration team. Along with the Avengers, there were twenty Army Rangers storming the building. All points of entry were covered. It was time. They’d either find John there alive, or they would be burying a friend in the morning.

It was a blur to Bucky. He took down every man he saw and watched Sam’s back, eyes searching every room for his friend. 

The further down they went, the more it smelled. It reeked of blood and death and waste. It reminded him of his days as the Winter Soldier—being tortured in those labs so that he could be controlled. It made his skin crawl.

“Ah, it has come to this. What a dreadfully boring end. I wanted to have more fun with you…But there is simply nothing left for you to give,” a man said in the room to Bucky’s left. He signalled Sam and they turned there. “But I have to give it to you, Captain, you are the only one I ever failed to break. No one else ever resisted as you have.”

Bucky’s heart rate spiked, and his vision tunneled into that moment. Sounds became sharper, colors brighter. It was like all his senses had been dialed up to twenty. 

They slammed the door open. The room was a grotesque lab filled with all sorts of torture equipment. In the center was a chair covered in dried old blood, but there was no one in it. 

A tall dark dark-haired man stood to the left, his back to them. “It would seem we have company, Captain. They did indeed come for you.”

The man turned around. His dead gray eyes surveyed them. “He was so sure you would not come. I almost believed him myself.”

“Shut up and move away, unless you want to die,” Bucky growled, gun pointed at him. He really should just shoot him. Kill him and get it over with. 

The man tutted and revealed his left hand. He had a gun pointing at the dark lump that Bucky assumed was Walker. “I don’t think so. Unless you want your friend to die, you’ll—”

Sam threw his shield at his hand, and the gun dropped to the ground as his hand made a sickening cracking noise. 

The man groaned through his teeth. “How utterly barbaric.”

Before Bucky could finally shoot the guy, Ava phased through Bucky and Sam, walking past them like they were nothing. She didn’t wait for any reaction—she simply phased her hand into his chest and ripped his heart out. He fell to the ground with a wet thud.

“Rest in hell, you evil bastard.”

She stood there, still beating heart in hand, bloodied and grinning ferally. Bucky was glad she was on their side. 

“Bucky, get over here now,” Sam said, kneeling in front of Walker’s still body. 

Bucky ghosted over there and paused by Sam’s shoulder at the sight of his friend, almost throwing up on the spot. John’s clothes were dirty and torn, his shirt completely gone. Bucky could count his ribs through his scarred-up skin that looked infected. His fingers were all going at odd angles and were purple and inflamed. His legs didn’t look much better. The way he held his neck looked painful just looking at it. And his face—

The entire left side of his face was swollen and inflamed. His jaw looked like it was barely holding onto his face. He looked like a different person. He looked dead.

 And his eyes were hazy and unseeing, the blue dulled to almost nothing. 

If the Doctor hadn’t already been dead, he would’ve finished the job himself and shown him some of the courtesy that he’d given to John. 

He could feel Ava’s presence by his shoulder, could vaguely hear her cries of horror, but he ignored them.

He unfroze and approached John’s still body, putting a hand on his bony, scarred shoulder. “John. We’re here. We’ve got you. Just hold on for us.”

He hadn’t been expecting much, but for a second, John’s eyes snapped towards his face. Not quite his eye line, but he had reacted. But it had quickly disappeared, his eyes drifted shut, and his body slumped. 

“Ava, call the MEDEVAC and tell them to get ready. We need to get John out of here and into a hospital as soon as possible,” he ordered. 

He had to separate himself from the situation or else he’d lose any control he had. If he took a second to really look at John, consider how bad it was, how likely he’d survive, he’d blackout. 

With an anchoring breath, he picked up John, careful to mind his injuries. He was light. To light. And there was no reaction whatsoever to being jostled. 

He let out a sharp breath. 

He hoped they got there soon enough. John didn’t have much time.

Chapter 3: Recovery

John was floating. 

There was no pain. It was more disturbing than comforting. It had been so, so long since he had no pain. 

He could sense people around him—moving in and out of his awareness. He couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge them. He was done. He was ready for it all to be over. Hadn’t he given enough? Lost enough? Didn’t he get to rest now?

Why didn’t he ever get to rest.

*

*

*

Sam had never had warm feelings towards Walker—but seeing him in that state was not something that would ever leave his mind. Walker was a massive presence wherever he went, filling up a room with the flip of a switch, and now he wasn’t. It felt wrong seeing him like that, as if the person they had found wasn’t John Walker in the slightest but someone else entirely. 

Sam was transported to memories he’d much rather not relive—dead friends so destroyed he couldn’t even recognize their bodies from a pile of meat. Friends so far damaged that they were barely even human even more, let alone the person he had once known.

(So many dead friends killed right in front of him. Bodies he’d had to scrape up himself and send back to mourning families, but never being able to mourn himself.)

It set him on edge. Everything felt like it was off two inches and he was stumbling around. 

Maybe it was guilt. Sam hadn’t been at his best all those years ago—he was actually at his worst. He never apologized, or tried to set it right, and now all he could feel was disgust. At himself. At the Doctor. At everyone.

“He’ll be okay,” Bucky said, sitting in the chair beside him. “He’ll be okay.”

His friend was holding his hands between his knees and leaning heavily on his elbows, almost as if he were praying. He looked like death warmed over—dark circles worse than usual, hair sweaty and matted. 

He was desperate. That much was obvious to Sam. Walker was one of the few he called friend, and had been a better one than Sam for the last few months. If Sam knew Bucky at all, this might just be the straw that broke the camel's back. 

Because he’d seen Walker—the gaunt cheeks, face so battered he looked like a different person, the blood that covered his body, the odd angle in which every bone turned…

Even for a super soldier, that looked like a death sentence.

“I hope so,” he said instead. He didn’t want to be the one to tell him that Walker was dying. That he was probably already dead. That they’d been too late.

“You don’t think he’s going to make it,” Bucky said after a moment. “I can see it on your face.”

Sam grimaced. So much for sparing his feelings.

Bucky continued before he could get a word in. “But you don’t know John. He always gets back up, no matter how hard he gets hit. Even when you think he’s down for the count, he finds a way to hit back.” Bucky shook his head with a snort. “Sometimes…sometimes I’d wish he’d stay down. That way he’d stop getting hit, because we could pick up the slack. Because we’re supposed to be a team. But we failed him, Sam. We failed.”

The raw emotion in his voice was startling. Sam put an arm over his shoulders. “You did everything you could, Bucky. There wasn’t anything else you could possibly have done.”

Bucky shook his head. “Doesn’t change the fact that John—” he cut himself off. “I can’t lose another one, Sam.”

And Sam wanted to tell him that he could, that eventually time would heal all wounds, but he wasn’t sure he could. Bucky had gone through so much, lost so many, it was hard to fathom. To lose a person he thought was family…

“Whatever happens, we go through it together,” Sam said, steel in his voice. “I’m with you, buddy, till the end of the line. I’m not leaving your side again.”

It wasn’t much, it wasn’t big words promising that everything would be alright, but it was all he could give. 

*

*

*

Calling John’s family was one of the hardest things Ava had ever done. They’d been in contact indirectly though the whole kidnapping ordeal, but Ava had never talked to them personaly. With Bucky in a state of shock and the rest of their team still on their way, it was laid upon Ava to give them the news so they could hopefully get the first flight out.

“Did you find our boy?” Mrs. Hoskins asked. Her voice was unwavering, no anger or sadness tainting it.

“He’s been recovered,” she confirmed. “But…he’s not in good shape. The doctors are saying that he might, uh.” She wiped her eyes off, and fought to keep in a sob. “He might not last the night. You and anyone who wants to say good—goodbye should fly out as soon as possible.”

She couldn’t stop the tears by the end, and really, she should’ve been better than that. They were his family—Ava was just a coworker, a teammate. She shouldn’t be putting that on them. 

“My boy,” Mrs. Hoskins muttered, voice thick. “I always knew this day was coming, ever since Lemar died. I thought I could delude myself into thinking he’d come home some day, but I knew. A mother always knows.”

“I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough. I’m sorry I was strong enough. I’m sorry I failed.

There was a pause.

“Did you get the man who did it?” She offered no forgiveness.

She thought of the blood on her hands. “Yes. He’s dead.”

“Good.” There was shuffling over the other end of the line. “Thank you for informing me. I have to go tell the others.”

There were words stuck on the tip of her tongue, before she blurted, “Before you go—I just want you to know that John loved you all so much. He talked about you all the time and said nothing but good things. He didn’t like talking about himself but he loved talking about his momma’s cooking and all these stories from when he was a kid.” She paused, taking in a deep breath. “I just need you to know that.”

“Thank you—that-that means a lot,” Mrs. Hoskins sniffled. “He always was a sweet boy. God, I’m going to miss him. I already lost one son, I didn’t need to lose another.”

The pain in her voice was palpable—a weapon stabbing Ava right between the ribs and twisting painfully. This woman had lost more than most ever would. 

There was nothing she could say to comfort her. There were no words for this.

After a few more murmured words, Mrs. Hoskins hung up, and Ava was left alone in a random hospital corridor covered in blood and tears.

In her heart, she knew that John was dead. The doctors said he wasn’t going to make it—and she’d seen him. She knew how bad it was. How much had been broken and destroyed. 

But something in her wouldn’t accept it until he was in the ground. He was John. He didn’t die. He couldn’t.

She slid down the wall until she had her knees pulled up to her chest and tried to wipe away her tears. She’d hadn’t had anyone to lose in a long, long time. And now she did and she felt like she was dying herself. 

“Don’t die, John, please,” she begged. “Please.” 

*

*

*

Oliva didn’t know what to think when she got the news. They’d finally found him. 

But it was too late. 

She’d always known this day was coming. That some day she’d be a widow wearing all black. She’d tried to distance herself from the fallout, tried to minimize the damage that would be done to her heart when John finally met that end he kept searching for, but all she had done was lose time with one of the most important people in her life.

Momma had come in person to deliver the news, Daisy had taken Junior with her and started packing their bags. 

“He’s not long for this world. He’ll be with Lemar soon,” Momma said, clasping her hand as she cried. “Now, we have to help him meet his end with dignity. Be by his side.”

Momma didn’t say anything about the last year she and John had been separated. About all their fights and cruel words. They didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. 

She thought of the future. She’d have to plan the funeral. Make sure it wasn’t big and obnoxious, but small and private like John had wanted. She’d have to deal with those vultures in the press again. Have to stay up at night wondering if any of those death threats were real. 

And Junior…

Junior would have to grow up without a father. 

“I can’t do this,” she said, breath coming out in fast hiccups. “I can’t do this without John.”

They’d been separated and bitter, but John had always been there. If she asked for anything in the world, he wouldn’t have hesitated to get it for her. Even on their worst days, he still answered her three AM calls when she just needed to make sure he was still alive. 

He was always there. 

Now he wouldn’t ever be again.

Momma drew her into a hug, holding her tightly. “We’ll be with you, dear.”

Olivia wanted to break into a million pieces in her arms, cry until she couldn’t anymore. But she couldn’t. Not yet. John was waiting for her one last time. He needed her to be the strong one when he couldn’t. 

With a shuddering breath, she untangled herself from Momma Hoskins, and wiped away her tears. “John needs us.”

Momma nodded. “We have a flight to catch.”

*

*

*


Arriving at the hospital was chaotic—the whole place had to be sealed off by the German authorities and the Army Rangers and then Yelena had to try and find her team and get an update on John’s condition. 

Bob and Alexei trailed behind her, just as lost as her. 

“What do you mean you don’t think he’ll survive the night?” She demanded. “He is a super soldier, do you know what that means?”

“His condition—”

“Yes, yes, his condition. I want to know if you actually know how to treat him, or if you’re just about to let him die.” She was nose to nose with him at this point, a second away from all out violence. Because this sounded wrong—this sounded like something John had told her about a long time ago.

“Miss, please, we are doing all that we can.”

But there was something in his eyes—something scared. 

She spun on her feet. “Where is Colonel Sheppard? I need to speak with him right now.”

A soldier near her  waved her towards him. “I’ll take you to him.”

“These doctors are not treating John,” Yelena said once she found the Colonel. “We need to either get him to another hospital or find better doctors.”

The man leaned back, arms crossed. “On what grounds do you say that?”

“John doesn’t get the best treatment from doctors,” she said through gritted teeth. “After the Flagsmasher incident, people started holding it against him.”

On a mission back when they were first starting out John had flat out refused to go to the hospital after almost completely destroying left arm, no matter how hard they badgered him he wouldn’t budge. The only answer he’d give her was, I’d rather risk maybe ruining my arm than someone definitely trying to ruin it. 

Sheppard frowned, eyes sharpening. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. 

Sheppard stood up straighter. “Captain! Get in here. I want you to get one of our medics to get an eye on the operation—don’t leave Captain Walker alone for a second with the Germans. I don’t care what they say, just do it.”

The man saluted before running off. 

“I’m going to make some calls. I know some people that could be trusted, we just have to make sure John stays alive long enough for them to get here,” Sheppard said, already dialing a number. 

“Thank you.”

She’d expected to fight for this—if he were Val, she’d have to scream at her for an hour before she got off her ass and did something. No one ever cared about their well being, especially John’s.

“I told you, John is a friend of mine. I’d do anything for him.”

And in that moment, she believed him. 

*

*

*

Bob bit his finger, almost drawing blood. Well, if his skin was penetrable he would’ve. John was maybe dying, but Yelena didn’t think so and had run off, Ava and Bucky were MIA, and he couldn’t do jack shit to help anyone. 

“Everything will be fine! John is strong. He will fight another day,” Alexei said.

Bob glanced at him. He was the picture of peace sitting in a chair trying to figure out how the waiting room tv worked. 

How could he be so confident that everything was going to be okay? How did he have such faith that everything would work?

In Bob’s experience, everything that could go wrong did. The Void was pressing in on the edges of his mind, chipping away at the cracks forming in him, but he ignored him best he could. He felt like he was suffocating. The good days had finally come to an end. The little family they’d made was about to die with someone who was like a brother to him. 

But John wouldn’t want him to give up. Give in to the Void—the darkness. 

Keep your chin up, Bobert. You’ve got this. 

The punches always keep coming—the key is to punch back. 

Never—and I mean never—give up. There’s only one thing between you and what you want, Bob, and that’s you. And I happen to believe in you. 

At the end of the day, all you can do is try. And that has to be enough. You do your best and then you move on. You don’t hold onto the past. 

Bob had a feeling he knew exactly what John would want him to do. Forget him. Move on. Stay strong. 

He just wasn’t so sure he could. 

*

*

*

John awoke on a grassy field. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure the only grassy place near him had eternal smog and depression surrounding it, but the sun shone brightly there and the air smelled fresh. 

He pushed off from the ground, eyes searching the area surrounding him. 

He knew where he was. 

There had been this field back in Georgia that had been between his, Lemar’s, and Olivia’s houses where they’d met up when they were kids. He’d proposed there, right under the huge willow tree that they used to climb and pretend to be pirates. 

This…

This wasn’t right.

“Didn’t think I’d see you soon.”

John whipped around and almost fell back on his feet. His heart hammered in his chest. No. It couldn’t be.

“I know, I’m pretty, but do try to breathe around me,” Lemar smiled. 

Before John could even register what he was doing he was tackling him. He felt solid. Real. He smelled just like he remembered—that weird ass cologne that was scented like wood and paint. 

“Lemar.”

John had been a dead man walking ever since he’d lost his brother. It’d been like someone had ripped out his soul and threw it into fire, burning it away and leaving nothing but an empty shell. There wasn’t really a John without Lemar. And no one understood that, couldn’t really. He was his best friend and other half. The only one that ever truly understood him. 

And he was here. 

It was like he could finally breathe again. 

“I missed you too, buddy,” Lemar sighed. “It’s been a little lonely without you.”

I’ve been alone since you died, he wanted to say.

(But that wasn’t quite true.

Things were hazy, blurry. 

They’d come for him.

Bucky, Sam, Ava. They were there. 

He hadn’t been alone at the end.)

“And as much as I love the company, and your terrible lack of personal space, I need you to hold on. Not to me, but to them,” Lemar stressed. 

John hissed, moving away slightly from Lemar. No. Never.

“You’re needed down there. As much as you like to pretend otherwise, you’re a hero, a good one. And with things that are coming down the line…let’s just say they’ll need all hands on deck, and call me biased, but they can’t lose one of their first string players,” Lemar said with a chuckle. “And there are people down there that need you. Yeah, you. Think about our parents, they need you. Our siblings need you. Olivia and your kid need you. You have so many people that love you down there…including that team of yours. All those outsiders and oddballs need you. Just like I needed you once.” Lemar paused. “You need to go back there and be the man I know you are, and then some day, I’ll see you again.”

Did they need him? Really? John doubted it. He knew his family would be sad. Devastated, even, but they’d be fine after a while. Maybe that was selfish to think. To put them through losing another brother, another son. But John was tired. It was nonstop punches 24/7 since Lemar died and he never got a second of rest. There was always someone gunning for him, someone threatening him, someone who wanted him gone. 

And the team…

They were adaptable. They’d be able to get through it.

(John used to be adaptable to. Able to get through anything.

Then Lemar died.

But that wasn’t the same. 

It wasn’t.)

John shook his head. “I’m tired, Lemar. Here…here is nice. It has you. Can’t I rest now? Haven’t I given enough?”

“I know you’re tired. I hate it. I hate to ask this of you, after all you’ve done. But I’m asking you to be Captain John Walker again. Not Captain America, or US Agent. You. You don’t have to be the savior of the universe or whatever the hell Val tells you to be…just the man I know. And if you do that, I promise things won’t be so hard anymore,” Lemar touched his forehead to his. “And I’ll be watching over you like always—just from a further position. And that team of yours, they’ll help you. You won’t even have to ask, they’ll have your six. I just need you to trust me this one last time.”

Captain John Walker had been a good man. A great one to some. But he’d been killed along with Lemar. He’d been killed when he’d been dishonorably discharged and spit in the face by the very people he’d given his life for. 

Or he’d thought so. 

Lemar was saying something else…and Lemar had always been the smarter of the two. 

“I don’t know if I can.” I don’t want to go back. I don’t know how to be him anymore.

“You’re Captain John Walker, one of the most decorated service members to serve our country, of course you can. You just forgot that you could.”

“I was Captain John Walker with you. I can’t be him without you.”

He died with you.

“And who says I’m not with you,” Lemar grinned wickedly. “I’m always with you. I never left, man. I just moved to a higher recon position.”

John laughed wetly. 

“Time’s running out, man. I love having you here, and I really wish you could stay, but you have some people waiting for you that need you more than I do at the moment.”

John wished he could stay there forever. Catch Lemar up on all the stupid things he’d done without him and laugh about it. Learn what Lemar had been doing while he’d been gone. He wanted to stay there forever and soak up Lemar’s presence like a dry sponge. 

But he couldn’t.

Olivia. Junior.

Momma. Pops.

Daisy. Leon.

Ava. Bob. Yelena. Bucky. Alexei.

John thought about just how bad Lemar’s death had wrecked him. He’d been in a haze for years, hadn’t really come out of the funk until he’d joined the team, and even then it was on a day-by-day basis. How could he willingly do that to other people? And it probably wasn’t all of them, or to the extent to what had happened to him, but how could he inflict the same kind of pain that had destroyed him? His family and his team had already been through so much pain, who was he to add to that?

No. 

He wouldn’t.

Even if it hurt.

“I really wish I could stay.”

“I wish you could too. More than anything in the world.”

But they both knew that that couldn’t be. They were soldiers, at the end of the day. They always did what was best for the greater good—that was their job. Their purpose.

“I’ll be back though. Don’t get too comfortable without me,” John said with a weak smile.

“Oh, I’ll be waiting. We’ve got so much to talk about.”

It was a promise between the both of them. 

John closed his eyes, and faded away.

*

*

*

“New Avenger, John Walker, was recovered earlier this morning by German authorities along with the US Army Rangers division. All reports are saying that Captain Walker is seriously injured and quite possibly won’t make it through the night.”

“We have some images of him arriving to a private medical facility that we are about to show. Viewer discretion is advised, the images are disturbing.”

“It looks like America and the world may be losing another hero soon. What does this spell for the future of the New Avengers, and more? We will be watching the situation closely. Keep this American hero and his family in your thoughts and prayers.”

*

*

*

“What do you mean the doctors weren’t treating him,” Ava fumed. 

Yelena was glaring furiously at every person that walked past John’s door that she was leaning against. “I mean exactly that. They were waiting for him to die. These people…they hate him. They do not understand the brutality of war. And they wanted him to pay for that.”

Ava was going to hunt down every single person who had seen John suffering and done nothing to help and end them. It’d be easy. She had the resources, the intelligence, and the means to get to them without ever being seen. 

“Colonel Sheppard is already dealing with them, and the German authorities are none too pleased that they’d been about to let an American citizen die. Nobody likes to piss off the Americans.” Yelena said, an evil smile on her face. “They will regret this dearly.”

Ava clenched her hands, fingers biting harshly into her palms. Everywhere John went, there was someone who hated him. There was someone who wanted to hurt him. And she couldn’t protect him from every person on the planet. She’d already failed horribly and he’d reaped the consequences of that. 

Yelena laid a hand on her arm. “He will be fine. He is strong.”

But that wasn’t it. John was always strong. They needed to be strong. Better. They could never let anything like this happen again. Ever. 

“How did you know they weren’t treating him?” She deflected. 

Yelena hummed. “He mentioned it before. I never thought he was being serious…I should’ve. I was talking to that shit bag of a doctor, and I saw it in his eyes. I could see it.”

How many times had this happened before? How many times had a doctor purposefully ignored his injuries, or even worse, mistreated them?

When John woke up, and it was when, she’d never be leaving his side again.

*

*

*

“This is a great opportunity for the team. All that bad publicity John received is forgotten—if I’d known all we needed was him saving some kid, I’d’ve done it ages ago,” Val said with a tinkering laugh. “We can use this to our advantage—”

If they’d been on the phone, Bucky would have already broken it in his hand. But he didn’t have that luxury, they were talking over Zoom on his laptop.

“Shut up. John is still in the operating room and you’re talking about—” She was talking about PR. How they could get ahead of the other Avenger’s team while the public was on their side. She was talking about how their merch sales were up. She was talking about anything other than John. She hadn’t asked about his condition, about what he was being treated for. Hadn’t offered any condolences, or offered to help get his family over before things went worse (Pepper Potts had, and she was already sending over the entire family on one of her private jets.)

She didn’t care at all. Couldn’t even pretend to.

“Bucky, mind your tone.”

But Bucky was done with Val and her manipulations and her lying and her sociopathic tendencies. 

He should’ve been done a long, long time ago. 

“That’s it, Val. We're over. The New Avengers are taking employment elsewhere, so you can shove your plans right up your ass.” He slammed the laptop down, and it shut with a sickening crunch. He’d broken yet another one.

“That went well,” Sam said on his right. 

He’d been sitting through the meeting the whole time just out of frame. Bucky had wanted him to see what they’d been putting up with for the last couple of months. It probably made him look like even more of an idiot for agreeing to do anything with that woman, but he needed Sam to know everything if they were going to be a team again.

“It went better than I thought it would.” He’d half expected death threats to be thrown off by both sides.

“I am so glad I never had to deal with her and that you won’t have to anymore,” Sam said, slumping in his chair. “It’ll be nice to have this civil war be over.”

“Yeah.”

Him and Sam had been sitting around while John was in surgery and had started talking. Pepper Potts was agreeing to fund Sam’s Avengers (seriously, the woman was a saint) and Sam had proposed that they simply combine their teams. They’d have their own home bases and everything (Sam wanted to stay on the West Coast, and Bucky could never leave New York) but they’d be working together. They wouldn’t be enemies and suing each other and having public meltdowns that went viral on tik tok.

What they’d been doing for the last few months had been stupid. And with everything that was happening…Bucky needed to make it right. 

When John woke up (and he would, he had to) there wouldn’t be infighting or blood feuds. There would be peace, and stability, something he’d need when he was recovering.

He’d managed to tell the rest of the team, and it had been unanimous. Alexei still had that look in his eyes that meant he was plotting something, but he didn’t outright threaten anybody. Ava and Yelena weren’t happy about joining who they’d designated the enemy, but were overjoyed to be leaving Val behind. Bob wanted to get a cake to celebrate once John was better.

Bucky had to believe no matter what that John would get better. 

The alternative was an unthinkable future. 

John is going to survive. He’s too stubborn not to.

*

*

*

The door to the meeting room slammed open and Bob stood there out of breath. “John’s out of surgery. He made it.”

*

*

*

Germany was cold. Olivia hated it. She snuggled Junior closer to her and hid him under her coat as they entered the hospital. Dozens of cameras were watching them as they entered. Some were screaming at her, trying to get the newest scoop for their story, but she ignored them. They’d already gone through this after the Flagsmashers debacle. 

“Is he still alive?”

“What are your thoughts on your husband's actions from three and a half years ago?”

“Is it true that you divorced your husband?”

“Do you have any comment on the New Avengers and their involvement—”

“How does it feel to be married to a murderer?”

The hospital doors slammed shut behind her and she finally unclenched her jaw. Momma and Pops and Lemar’s siblings with her, all just as tense. Reporters were the rats of the world. For weeks after John’s discharge she couldn’t leave the house without fear of being harassed or assaulted just for new information on an already decided narrative. And now it was happening again. 

“You must be John’s family.”

Oliva glanced to her right. One of the people from John’s new team—Ava, if she remembered correctly. She was still in her superhero get up, covered in dirt and what looked like dried blood. From her and John’s brief talks, she knew that Ava and him were close on the team, as much as he tried to deny it. 

“There’s been some…developments while you were on your way that we didn’t want to communicate over the phone. We’ve had some problems with eaves droppers, and we wanted this information kept private,” Ava said, biting her lip. 

“And what are the developments?” Oliva asked, voice hard. Junior stirred against her chest but didn’t wake. 

Ava grimaced, and then Olivia finally noticed all the odd things going on around them. The hallway was lined with Army Rangers (she even recognized a few of them) and what she guessed were German police officers. Every time a nurse or doctor walked by, they glared at them and held their weapons tighter. Ava herself leaned away whenever one got near her.

“Oh. It happened again,” Olivia said. 

When that man (that inconsiderate, selfish, childish—) Sam Wilson had broken John’s arm, the treatment they’d gotten had been subpar to say the least. The broken bones had healed all wrong to the point that John could barely use it most days. The doctors hadn’t set it right, and, according to the surgeons they’d had to contact, they probably deliberately set it wrong. It had taken multiple surgeries and weeks of healing for him to be free from most of the pain. There were still some days though that the arm spasmed and wouldn’t cooperate, as much as John tried to deny it.

And it happened again. 

Even after all these years, even after John became an Avenger, people still wanted him dead for doing his job. But this time it was worse, so much worse. 

They might’ve truly killed him this time.

“Is John alright?” Momma Hoskins asked. “Is my boy alright?”

Ava settled into an almost military stance, which was odd because Olivia knew for a fact that she’d never served, because John would’ve mentioned it. All Olivia knew about Ava, and all that was public knowledge, was that she used to be a S.H.I.E.L.D operative. 

“Colonel Sheppard secured trusted medical professionals to handle John’s care. He’s still in the ICU, but his situation isn’t so dire now,” Ava said softly. “And we’re working with German authorities to prosecute those involved in the failure to render treatment.”

Olivia could’ve cried. 

The last time something this bad had happened, everyone had abandoned him. They’d sucked all they could out of John Walker, and when they couldn’t use the once bright eyed man anymore, they’d thrown him to the curb. Even the ones that Olivia never would’ve expected—the CO’s that had been to her house, eaten her food, had practically spit in their faces. 

No one had stood by them. No one had cared 

But this time…

This time he had people on his side. He hadn’t been left behind. 

They’d probably saved his life. 

“Thank you.”

Ava nodded hesitantly, like she didn’t know what to do with that. “John’s my friend. There’s no need for thanks.”

John used to have a lot of friends. Almost none of them would’ve done what the New Avengers had done.

“Can we see John?” Pops asked. 

Ava shook herself out of her stupor. “I can take you to him. The doctors are being pretty strict on who can see him, so you’ll have to talk to them.” She started walking down the hallway, nodding at the soldiers that seemed to pop up everywhere. “But I have to warn you…his injuries—they’re bad. Until he heals up…I would keep the kid away. John wouldn’t want him to see him like that.”

Dread curled in Olivia’s gut. 

Ten minutes ago, she’d thought John was dead. 

This shouldn’t phase her. But it did. Seeing John hurt always made her nauseous. She used to wish that he chose a different path to follow, one that didn’t leave scars and bruises and ghosts all around them. But it had become clear that John had been made for it. He was a natural leader, and loved strategy and the bonds made there. She knew he wouldn’t be happy anywhere else than in the fire. 

But she never got used to seeing him hurt. She learned how to tough it out, how to best be there for him, but whenever she saw him—a man who seemed invincible since the second she’d met him when they were teenagers—hurt, it was like reality shifted. Because he wasn’t bullet proof or indestructible when he left the comfort of their home. Those people who wanted to hurt him could. 

And John wouldn’t want Junior to see him like that. Wouldn’t want their son to fear what could—and did—happen to his father. 

“Daisy, would you take Junior?” Oliva asked. 

Daisy came up without a word and took the sleeping toddler from her. For the millionth time, she thanked God for the Hoskins family. They were here even when her and John's biological families weren’t. They’d always been more like family than anyone blood related to them. 

“Take us to him.”

*

*

*

It was hard to keep a straight face when she saw John through the windows to his room. He looked nothing like the man she loved. His face was destroyed—swollen and purple. His hair had been shaved off and a large incision was left on the right side of his skull (they’d had to operate on his brain.) Every inch of him was covered in some sort of wound, his hands were set in painful metal instruments, because his fingers had been broken so many times they’d need to surgically operate on them. His shoulder and leg had both been horrendously injured and would soon be operated on. 

Once, back during the Blip when everything had been chaos and terror, John had been captured. Tortured. But it hadn’t been close to this brutality at all. She didn’t think she’d ever seen anything close to the level of inhumanity that was on display—that someone had done this that they had wanted to.

Olivia was the only one allowed in the room with him. She had to disinfect and put on a gown and mask to even sit by his side. She couldn’t even give him the comfort of holding his hand or touching his arm. 

“I really miss you, John,” she said softly. “I miss the way you always have a football game on, the way you make an omelet, the way you always made sure I was safe. I miss the way you would play with Junior on your good days—and he misses you just as much. He is always asking about his daddy and always wants to see you. And he’s just like you, just the other day he laughed and I swear it sounded just like you. And he loves that dumb cartoon that you used to watch all the time.” She wiped away a silent tear that had managed to escape her. “We’ll be here when you wake up, I promise. I’m not leaving your side again.”

There was so much wasted time. 

No more.

*

*

*

ONE WEEK LATER.

The journey back to living was a lonely one. It was dark and dirty and almost hateful. But he was Captain John Walker, and he never gave up without a fight. And he had Lemar on overhead watch, how could he lose?

It took what seemed like forever, fighting against the darkness that consumed him but John. Woke. Up.

TBC