Chapter Text
James knew it was a bad idea to come here, but when had that ever stopped him. His heart stutters, stops, stutters again.
Require 5ccs of blue to maintain stability, says the ghost in his head.
You and I both know there isn't any left, he tells it.
“Shit,” says Sophie again, leaping out of her chair. “Shit shit shit shit shit.”
She reaches him as he stumbles, reaching around his waist to brace him.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“We’re just...we’re just gonna go find somewhere quiet. Please don’t pass out yet, I really don’t want the attention.”
Sophie maneuvers them to a corner and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. Her dog gives them an assessing look before turning around and assuming a guarding position.
“What is it?” Sophie asks. Her face is sliding in and out of focus. James knows his breathing is shallow, and his skin even paler than before, but the pain is a body thing and he’s good at ignoring those.
“‘M having a heart attack, pretty sure,” he says. He sounds nonchalant about it and feels obscurely proud.
“ What .” says Sophie.
“Sorry. Thought I’d have a few more hours.”
“What the fucking shit, Barnes,” says Steve’s wife. He doesn’t answer. Trust Steve to marry a girl who swears like a sailor. She reaches up and presses her earring.
“We have a situation. Mari, get the car please. Kevin, I need you here, I’m in a corner behind the table I was at. No, I’m fine, it’s not me. I don’t know, we never came up with a code for ‘I’ve found my husband’s dead best friend.’ Yes, I am serious. Now please.”
A bossy girl who swears like a sailor. James likes her immediately. She drops her hand and looks at him.
“Don’t die.”
“No promises,” he answers. It’s too late anyway. He feels bad about his miscalculation. If everything had gone the way it should, he’d be dying in nice and quiet in the tunnels right now, not practically in the lap of a stranger.
“Ahahaha,” says Sophie, dropping her head to her knees. “I can’t deal with this. Leif!”
The dog turns around to look.
“Purse.”
Leif bounds off and returns with the purse, dropping it on Sophie’s lap.
“Good boy,” she said. She upends the bag on the floor and paws through the contents.
“You ok?” James manages.
“Ha. No. I am having a panic attack. But I will take these nice pink pills and then I won’t be having a panic attack, and I will deal with this until I can make someone else deal with this. Just...concentrate on not dying please.”
Hands shaking, she manages to get a small bottle open and shakes out a few pills, swallowing them down dry. A black man in a suit who might as well have BODYGUARD tattooed on his forehead approaches. He exchanges a look with the Leif before relieving him of the guard position. The dog comes over and lays down half in Sophie’s lap. James leans his head back against the wall, and closes his eyes. The pain comes in waves and he focuses on ignoring it.
Require the blue. Abort mission. Return to base. Abort mission, says the ghost. It sounds like a computer alarm from a bad sci-fi show.
Oh my god, shut up, he thinks at it.
Return to base.
I would literally rather die. Which I am doing. So there.
The ghost stops its alarm loop.
This is an ineffective use of resources , it says. It sounds judgemental. James ignores it.
“Bucky?” comes Sophie’s voice again. She sounds far away. “I don’t need you to talk, but can you nod if you hear me?”
He nods.
“Our ride’s here. Kevin’s going to help you to the car and then we’re going to go somewhere safe. Ok?”
He manages to open his eyes to see Sophie and the suited man. He nods again.
The trip through the convention center is the stuff of stumbling painful nightmares, but he feels almost cheerful. After all, he’ll be dead in an hour or so, so what does it matter. He’s half carried, half slid into the back seat of a nondescript sedan. The dog had taken the middle seat. The bodyguard is up front and a small woman with curly hair is driving. Sophie is in the other window seat, apparently talking into her necklace. James wonders if every piece of jewelry was a walkie talkie these days.
“Steve?” she was saying. “You might want to sit down.”
ABORT yells the ghost.
Go to hell , thinks James, and finally passes out.