Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

———

John sat on the couch in the common room, body stiff and worn from the previous morning’s mission. It was long and drawn out, but nothing they hadn’t done before, nothing he couldn’t handle. But whatever HYDRA weapon he had been hit with had him feeling off ever since. The tiny entrance wound in the middle of his chest was barely bigger than a pin prick, yet it hurt like a gunshot wound anytime it was bumped. He remembered the weapon lighting up like a taser, his lungs and ribs lighting up with pain, burning like they were on fire. It was only a few seconds, and if he hadn’t taken a few extra moments to get back to his feet, he doubted anybody else would have noticed. 

He was back on his feet and functioning normally in less than a minute, waving off Yelena and Bucky’s attempts to check him over. He ignored the pain that spread through his chest like wildfire, but at least that had dissipated slightly since returning to the tower. The pain behind his eyes showed up seconds after he was struck, and hadn’t left since. He felt like someone or something was squeezing his head between their hands, pressing and pushing them closer together as hard as they could, like his head could explode right then and there.

Sure, sitting in the dark tower in front a bright blaring tv screen at 3am probably didn’t help, but if he couldn’t sleep he may as well be up. He was barely paying attention to the screen anyways, his head wouldn’t let him. He winced and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head softly and blinking a few times. It helped for only a few seconds, and then the raging sharp pain came creeping back up his neck and into his brain. He shut his eyes and tilted his head back against the top of the couch, willing himself to sleep, even if it wasn’t for long, he needed it.

He wasn’t sure what time he woke up, the rest of the team was already bustling around in the kitchen around him. He only then realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch. He was thankful nobody had woken him up, they knew sleep was hard for him to come by sometimes. It only took a minute or two for the pain in his head to start dully making itself known. It wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it had been the night before; but still there, still nagging, still leaving him feeling slightly…off? Like his body wasn’t keeping up.

By the afternoon his pain had subsided, but he still just didn’t quite feel like himself. He rarely ever got tired, but he found himself getting almost winded from certain movements. His balance was slightly off. He chalked it up to the bad nights sleep from before. Nobody had noticed any difference in him yet, or if they did they hadn’t said anything, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Dinner time rolled around, John joining the rest of the team as usual. But as he looked around the table, his ears began to ring, and he suddenly wasn’t hungry at all anymore. He was almost…nauseous?

“Walker”, Bucky’s voice came from across the table, the man already eyeing him suspiciously.

“What?”, John spat a little too harsh, not the way he had meant for it to come out at all.

“You ok? You look like you’re in a different universe over there”, Bucky asked, brushing off John’s tone. 

John didn’t know how to answer, because of course he wasn’t fucking ok. He didn’t feel like himself, he felt like he was failing himself, just slowly slowing down until eventually he’d crash from exhaustion. Hell, if he knew what was wrong he’d be a lot happier. He wanted answers, but was too stubborn to ask, he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

“I’m fine”, John said, playing with his fork in front of him; “Just tired, not really hungry.”

Bucky didn’t question any further, and soon the discussion around the table had resumed. John sighed at the attention finally leaving him, well all except for one pair of eyes. Bob was staring at him from two chairs down, his face looked sad and worried, big blue eyes rounder than marbles. John didn’t make direct eye contact. He didn’t want to be seen this way, like he couldn’t handle whatever was going on by himself.

———

For a few weeks after, John started to actually feel good again. His hunger was back, he wasn’t nearly as tired as he had been. He’d been sleeping slightly better. He didn’t feel like something inside him was off or would trigger an explosion at any second. He had his energy back.

So he started jogging early in the mornings again. He missed the fresh air outside and the slight mist that filled the air as the sun rose. He kept up the pace for a good three weeks, but the first day of that third week; everything came to a halt. 

John had just stepped out onto the streets of the city, barely even a few feet away from the entrance doors to the Watchtower when that lingering feeling that something was off came back. He noticed the dull sunlight was bothering his eyes, making him squint in discomfort. They stung and felt heavy in his head, aching just enough that he noticed it. 

Still, he shook his head and jogged in place for a moment before taking a deep breath and starting his run. It felt good, easy. His feet kept a steady rhythm as he moved, taking his regular route that he could probably do with his eyes closed by now. The chilly morning air was starting to warm up, soon he’d feel the burn he chased. He turned around a corner when his ears starting ringing faintly again. He was only two blocks away from the tower.

John shook his head, willing himself to focus on his running. His feet. The ground in front of him. 

Then came the stabbing pain behind his eyes again. It caught him off guard. He stumbled a bit, bracing himself up against a brick wall with his right hand so he didn’t fall completely to the ground. The pain grew stronger. He pinched his brow between his fingers and scrunched his eyes together tight.

“Fuck”, He mumbled to himself. 

He shook his head again, forcing himself to keep moving. But his body protested. The ringing in his ears grew louder and the world around him began to spin. He could hear his heart beating way too fast in his chest, his breathing shallow and forced. He stopped at a stoop and sat down, eyes closed and head hung as he gripped at it again. 

He didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours that he sat there. Nobody paid him any attention. He blinked away tears as he looked around, forcing himself to steady his breathing. Forcing himself to stand. He shakily made it to his feet, wobbling and unsteady. Like his balance had just disappeared. He decided he was done for the morning. He walked the rest of the way back to the tower.

———

John didn’t socialize when he got back home. He grabbed a bottle of water and almost fled back to his room, locking the door behind him. He rummaged through the bathroom cabinet until he found the extra strength pain pills that had been given to himself, Bucky, Alexei, and Bob. They didn’t take away the pain completely, but they made it so much better. It was manageable, ignorable. John popped open the lid and shoved two in his mouth, drinking the entirety of the water bottle he had grabbed in one breath. He gasped when he finished it, his throat was cold and his head was still searing. 

He started the shower behind him, water almost scorching as he climbed in. He didn’t care. He wanted to feel something else, something to distract him from his pain. He stayed in the shower until his skin was bright red and screaming, begging not to be touched by anymore of the water droplets that stung by that point. 

He climbed out of the shower and dried off, pulling a pair of boxers and grey sweats on. He flopped down on his bed, already feeling exhausted. It was barely lunch time, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He wasn’t hungry again, in fact the thought of putting anything else inside his body made him viciously nauseous. He ran his hand through his damp hair, pressing his palm down towards his scalp in the spot it hurt the most. It relieved a little bit of the pressure. 

John flopped back all the way on his bed, pulling the covers over himself and wincing when his head protested against the sudden position change. It was throbbing. Like a heartbeat between his ears. It was pissing him off. He wondered why his serum wasn’t targeting whatever it was that was going on. He tried to convince himself he was overdoing it the past couple weeks, but he had felt good. Great, amazing even. Now that all sat behind him like a distant light in a tunnel. He groaned and shut his eyes, eyebrows furrowing until his body finally decided to drift off. His brow relaxed, and his breathing softened out. He prayed to himself that the pain would be gone the next day. 

It wasn’t. 

———

By the time John woke up it was way past breakfast time. He had slept through the entire afternoon and previous night without knowing it or meaning to. He was surprised none of his teammates had come looking for him or tried to wake him up. Even he knew it was unusual for him to sleep like that. He grabbed the bottle of pain pills on his night stand and shoved two in his mouth again with a swig of water, squeezing his eyes as he swallowed. The pain was slightly more bearable, and with the medicine, should subside even more. 

He needed it to. He couldn’t stop his life or his work. He couldn’t let his team down. So he bottled it up inside, kept it locked away deep down inside himself. He put his best ‘normal’ face on and took a deep breath before slipping out into the hallway. It was already noisy in the common room judging by how quickly and clearly he could hear muffled laughter and people chatting. He had grown fond of the sound, though. It wasn’t so empty and alone now. He just hoped the pills would kick in soon so he could enjoy being with the team.

Yelena looked up first when he walked in.

“Jesus Walker, you look like hell”, She says, her eyes widening slightly.

John just shrugged his shoulders and found himself a spot on the couch, flopping down softly and crossing his arms.

“What happened yesterday? After breakfast nobody saw you all night”, Ava piped up from her spot in a lounger.

“Just worn out. Run got me good yesterday”, John lied. Well, mostly. The run did get him, but not in the way he wanted it to.

Bucky scoffed; “Really? Mr. Super Soldier over there got worn out just by his normal run?”

John only shrugged again; “I guess so. Happens from time to time.”

He waved off any other questions, the team returning to the board game that sat on the coffee table in front of them. John caught Bob staring at him again, like he knew something. Like he knew something was off with John. He sat in his rocker lounger with his eyes glued to John; like he intended to find out the answer.

John didn’t even realize he was blanking out, just staring off into space as he sat on the couch, watching Alexei beat everyone horribly at the game they were playing. His ears didn’t pick up what they were saying, but as the ringing dissipated so he could; he felt himself relaxing. He could laugh along at Yelena’s jokes towards Bucky. Laugh when someone did something against Bob in the game, Ava and Yelena immediately raining down hellfire on whoever had done it. John pulled the blanket off the arm of the couch next to him, pulling it up to his chin and brushing his skin along the corner. It sent heat through his nerves, a comforting feeling against the coldness he’d been feeling lately with all the pain in his head. 

He joined in the next round of the game, his head clear and not throbbing. But the uneasiness still lingered. He tried to ignore it and pushed it back. Nobody noticed anything. He was again, thankful for that. He was engaged and lively the rest of the day. He cooked dinner, helped clean up. Joined in to watch a movie. Only when he climbed into bed that evening did it all come crashing back to him. He pressed an ice pack to his head and shut his eyes. He found himself using breathing techniques to push through. Whatever it was worked. 

When John woke up the next day he looked even worse than before. The bags under his eyes were more prominent than they had ever been. He looked like he had been punched in the eyes. Purple and blue against his slightly paler complexion. Yet his eyes seemed hollow, he looked exhausted; almost frail, almost weak. He hated that. He forced himself into the shower again. Distracting his mind in the only way he knew how; lighting up his body, scorching water against his barely awake skin turning it red hot. Any non super soldier would’ve broken at the feeling, like knives and needles, tapping away at exposed and now angry looking skin on his back. He barely flinched, barely moved. Just sighed. It felt good. It was an escape for him. A moment of clarity where he was finally comfortable.

If only this feeling could last forever, he thought.

———

John popped two painkillers in his mouth from where he sat on the jet, swigging it down with some water. He could hear Bucky say they were coming up on the drop zone. He watched Yelena and Ava start putting their parachutes on, but as the hatch opened; John decided against one. He figured nothing could hurt more than the pain he was already in. He wanted the risk, the adrenaline. He was reckless. He stuffed his beret in his pocket, thankful that he didn’t have to wear that painful helmet anymore, grabbed his shield, and headed towards the back of the jet. 

He grunted and hyped himself up with a jostle of his shoulders and head, slipping the shield tightly onto his arm.

“Walker what are you-“

But John didn’t stick around to hear Ava finish. He simply saluted the two agents in front of him with a smirk, and took off towards the exit, jumping out into the clouds below. 

Of course, he fell fast. His super soldier body heavy and traveling quickly, the ground below him growing closer and closer. There was no water for him to land in like there had been the few times Steve had done it; just grassy fields and pebble roads. He shut his eyes as he neared the ground, sighing in a moment of complete freedom and euphoria. He opened them just in time to see the landing spot approaching, so he tucked his body in on itself; preparing for impact. He hit the ground with a thud, tucking and rolling as he did. He laid there for a second and laughed at himself, before heaving himself up off the ground. At least he landed on the grass.

He wiped some of the dust and grass off of him, wincing only slightly as he stood with a groan; his shield being the only thing that helped lessen the impact. Still, he felt crazy alive; the adrenaline pumping through his veins at maximum speed. For once, he didn’t immediately feel the pain in his head, didn’t feel it when he was falling. It was just him and gravity.

The rest of the team began landing around him, Bucky throwing off his parachute and practically stomping over to John.

“What the fuck was that, Walker??”, Bucky practically barked at him.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”, Yelena added appearing next to them, her voice stern and a bit angry. 

John just shrugged; “Relax, i’m fine. It was just a bit of fun.”

The pair looked at him like he had three heads.

“Fun?”, Bucky asked; “You call that fun??”

John didn’t answer, just watched Bucky shake his head in disbelief, running a hand down his face and turning to Yelena.

“Right well, now that you’re being reckless you get to pair up with Yelena so she can make sure your dumbass comes out alive and you don’t do anything stupid”, Bucky deadpans, throwing a look that said “I’m sorry” towards Yelena.

Bucky walked away and towards the rest of the group, Yelena eyeing John up and down.

“Put your tiny dick back in your pants, you’re listening to me on this one, got it?”, She pointed her finger in his face, poking his chest once.

John smirked; “Yes ma’am.”

Yelena rolled her eyes as she spun on her heel, heading to rejoin the group; “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you stranded here.”

———

The mission was almost complete, and John could feel the painkillers wearing off. He’d left them on the jet. He really shouldn’t have. They’d been on this mission for a few hours, and he was beyond thrilled it was almost over. He wanted nothing more than to get back to the tower and climb into bed. Maybe even shower first. 

He followed closely behind Yelena as she scouted around a corner, gun held in the air between two hands. 

“Alright, this wing’s clear”, She says into comms.

“This wing too. Meet back at the jet in ten”, Bucky replies.

John was standing with his head resting against the cool metal of the wall, closing his eyes for a moment while he waited for Yelena’s signal. The pain blared through his skull and behind his eyes again, making him gasp and wince as he squeezed the spot between his brows again. 

Yelena spun around at the sudden noise, her face dropping when she saw John’s face.

“Hey…Walker, you ok?”, She asked softly, her hand on his arm now.

John took a deep breath and shook his head; “I’m fine”, He forced a smile; “Let’s just get back to the jet.”

He began moving on his feet first, Yelena worriedly watching behind him for a moment before she too moved on her feet, catching up to the super soldier rather quickly. John was beyond thankful it was dark out when they exited the building, the blaring sun would’ve made him feel so much worse. He brushed Bucky and Ava off when they shot him concerned looks as he boarded the jet. Even Alexei seemed more gentle around him. He could hear Yelena whispering to Bucky about him, but he didn’t have the will to try and make out what it was. He just popped more painkillers and laid down across three seats, before closing his eyes; hoping the buzzing pain in his head would stop soon.

John ended up in training early the next morning, sparring with Bucky. It wasn’t unusual, two super soldiers practicing their best fight moves. His head was a little weary, buzzing slightly. Bucky held up a kick pad in front of him, but when John went to punch it, he missed. 

Bucky tried to suppress a look of shock, he didn’t say anything, just readjusted his grip. John tried again, he barely caught the corner of it. He stumbled a little trying to pull himself together, stand his ground. He was getting pissed off, and without thinking he threw an angry kick towards the pad, his left foot too unsteady to hold him up; he hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

Now his ears were ringing as he winced at the blaring gym lights now shining in his eyes. He blinked for a moment, not even realizing Bucky was already helping him back to his feet, or that he was talking to him.

“Walker”, Bucky said again, bracing his hands against John’s shoulder to keep him upright.

John whipped his head around; dazed, blinking as if he was hearing Bucky for the first time. He wobbled a bit, Bucky immediately tightening his grip.

“Woah, hey big guy…you sure you’re ok?”, Bucky asked.

John shrugged it off, his voice breathy, dismissing Bucky with a hand; “I’m fine. Just gonna go shower.”

Bucky watched John hobble out of the room. His balance off like the floor was tilting. A feeling of worry pinched in Bucky’s chest as he watched him leave.

John didn’t head for the showers though, no he had decided he’d had enough. He headed into the elevator and found himself walking into medbay before he could change his mind. He wanted the pain in his head to stop, he wanted to be able to run or walk without the world tilting underneath him. He wanted to be himself again. He didn’t see Bob watching him with pure worry on his face from the other end of the hallway.

———

John found himself sitting on one of the hospital beds, bouncing his knee up and down. He’d probably had a million tests done by now, or at least it felt like that to him. He’d lowered the lights in the room to ease the strain in his eyes, the darkness helping a bit. It was quiet, too quiet for his liking. Everything around him smelled sterile and rubbery. He didn’t like it. 

He remembered the last time he was here, a few broken ribs from a mission. Not the one where he jumped from the plane with no parachute; no he enjoyed that. The memory of the adrenaline lived in his veins, swimming under his skin. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He wanted to feel alive like that again.

The ringing in his ears got louder, his vision blurring and hearing became muffled, like he was in a tunnel. He laid back on the hospital bed and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and inhaling a deep breath; holding it for longer than he probably needed to. The bed underneath him grounded him, the room around him tilting back into a steady image now, as it should be. But the pain didn’t subside. He’d left the painkillers upstairs. Stupid mistake.

He knew the rest of the team was catching onto him, noticing him slowing down or acting off in some aspects. He’d have to come up with an excuse for that later. “I’m fine” was starting to get old. Less and less believable. John squeezed his hands against both sides of his head as a sharp pain shot through his skull. Pressure building like a balloon that might pop.

He finally heard the door to the room open after he laid there for what felt like hours. He sat up, his knee immediately bouncing in anticipation again. The curtain around him was pulled back, a different doctor from before now standing in front of him.

“Mr. Walker?”, The man said.

John nodded.

“I’m Dr. Robbins, I’ll be going over your test results with you today.”

The man reached out to shake John’s hand, John hesitated for a moment before he shook it. The man was being way too friendly, it made John more anxious than he should be. John listened as the man read over results from his bloodwork and x-rays. Different and various tests that had been done on him in the past few hours. They’d all come back pretty normal, well normal for a super soldier that is. Then John saw the look on the doctor’s face change. He listened as he started going over his MRI results. John’s breath caught in his throat as he did…Was it that bad?

Dr. Robbins opened his mouth and John’s entire world froze; his body running cold.

“John, you have a brain tumor.”

———

Chapter Text

———

“John, you have a brain tumor.”

John felt the entire world stop around him. Like his mind was moving so fast that everything else slowed in comparison. His eyes pricked with tears, but they were quickly replaced with anger. Why wasn’t the serum preventing this? How did this happen in the first place? Why wasn’t he healing?

His mouth was dry when he spoke;

“How?”, Was all John could muster. It came out softer than he intended, voice gravely and quiet.

Dr. Robbins sighed in front of him. He placed an image of John’s brain against the box on the wall, flicking the light on inside it; the mri imagine lighting up.

“Our best guess is this started before you took the serum”, Dr. Robbins tells him.

John remembers the headaches he’d get during the fight with the flag smashers. How tired he felt towards the end. The serum had taken that all away. Why wasn’t it stopping it now?

“For some reason, the serum isn’t fighting it the way it should. In fact it’s just pretty much containing it, not healing it. We’ll have to run more tests to see if we can figure out why.”

John didn’t speak, he barely moved. What was he supposed to do now?

“What’s uh”, John swallowed hard; “What about long term?”

Dr Robbins sighed; “Unfortunately chemo won’t do anything because of your serum, even if it did it would probably just put a thicker shell around the tumor. There’s experimental treatments we can try, but there’s no guarantee.”

John opened his mouth to say something but the doctor beat him to it.

“Prognosis could be anywhere between six weeks to six years.”

The anger inside John bubbled up higher. How was this happening to him?

“As far as the pain management goes, keep using the pills from before, ice packs can help. I’ll put in an order for a stronger medication for you that will hopefully beat out the serum trying to stop it.”

———

John left medbay with his body almost shaking beneath him. It didn’t make sense, none of it did. How was he supposed to just live with this information? He couldn’t tell anyone, he’d be seen as weak, a liability. He’d be benched for sure. Missions were all he had that kept him sane. U.S. Agent was all he had. He’d lose his mind if he had to rot away in the halls of the tower. Sure the team was there for him no matter what, but he didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want them to worry. He was supposed to protect them. Not the other way around.

John didn’t leave his room for dinner. He just sat on his bed staring at the wall next to the tv. It was on, but he wasn’t paying attention. It was just static to him. The noise of the city below had grown quieter, even the common room seemed quiet. He couldn’t hear any arguing or banter, not even Alexei’s voice came echoing down the halls. It was like they unconsciously knew.

Then, a soft knock came from his bedroom door.

It startled him. Gripped him and pulled him out of the quiet trance he was in. It came again after a few seconds. Then a voice.

“John? Are you in there?”, Bob’s soft voice came from the other side of the door.

John sighed and pushed himself out of bed. He couldn’t shut out Bob. Not when he was so nice to him. John opened the door and was hit with Bob’s surprised smile as soon as he saw him. Like Bob hadn’t expected him to answer.

“Oh uh, hey! I brought you some leftovers from dinner…in case you were hungry”, Bob said, then shrugged his shoulders lightly.

John gave his best and smallest smile, moving aside to let Bob in. The brunette happily took the invitation and walked in, his body always looked like he was bouncing when he walked. He set the tray of food down on John’s desk before turning to him.

“Geez it’s freezing in here”, Bob chuckled, rubbing dramatically at his own arm.

John didn’t say anything, just poked around at the food on the tray, forcing himself to take a bite. He could feel Bob watching him intently. Those deep ocean blues staring into his soul.

“Hey, are you doing ok?”, Bob finally asked, rubbing the back of his neck like he shouldn’t have.

John froze.

“I’m fine, Bobby”, John pushed out.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”, Bob asked, his eyes wide with sincerity.

John hesitated for a moment; “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

John realized then that he could tell Bob. Just not now. Not yet. Not while the news was so fresh. The wound was still open and bleeding. But maybe someday soon. He could trust Bob. When he got tired of keeping it a secret, he’d be the first person John told. He didn’t deny that.

———

“John what the fuck were you thinking?”, Yelena practically hissed into his ear.

Bucky and Alexei were hoisting him onto the small medical table inside the jet, Ava and Yelena trailing behind them as John hit the smooth surface with a groan. The burns up his entire left arm stung worse than anything. But it took away the pain in his head. As long as he felt pain somewhere else, his head didn’t bother him as much.

So he started being reckless. On missions and in everyday life. He’d punch a bag while training until his knuckles split and bled, not even bothering to tape them up. He’d jump in front of bullets or a blast even though he knew he was too big to completely hide behind his now taco-shaped shield. But he didn’t care. It burned and hurt somewhere else besides his head, and that’s all he cared about.

John’s arm practically sizzled as Bucky did his best to bandage it up and treat the wound. There was only so much he could do on the jet without taking him to medbay after. Bucky grumbled something to himself under his breath as he worked; he’d noticed John’s growing recklessness and lack of care for his own body.

“Just because you’re a super soldier doesn’t mean you’re invincible. When are you going to get that through your thick skull??”, Bucky scolds him as he wraps his arm up.

Clearly not, John thought. If he was invincible he wouldn’t have this stupid tumor growing in his head. Slowly eating away at him. It wasn’t fair. None of it was, not to him. He’d done a lot of stuff in his life he regretted, but he never expected having to go through something as challenging as what he was facing now.

He knew Bucky didn’t mean to be harsh with his words, didn’t mean the sharp tone that came out of his mouth. He was just frustrated? John knew it wasn’t fair to make his team worry about him like that. So he kept quiet. Just mumbled something about an ‘i’m sorry’ and promised he’d try to think more before he acts on missions. But the thrill of the pain being anywhere else but his head was too strong.

When the florescent lights of medbay hung over him from where he sat on one of the beds watching his arm being properly taken care of, the pain in his head started to grow again. The stinging in his arm that was slowly subsiding wasn’t enough. Soon he’d find his way back into his room and pop more pain killers. He just had to get through the day. It was movie night, he wasn’t allowed to skip that. He’d feel like a giant ass if he did. It was part of the team’s routine.

———

As John sat on the couch with his head tilted back and his eyes closed, he prayed the drugs would kick in soon. His arms were folded across his chest, a soft sigh escaping from his nose. The couch shifted when someone sat next to him, it was Bob; of course it was Bob. John didn’t mind the man’s presence, he’d actually grown quite fond of it since moving into the tower; but now with the thumping inside his head he didn’t really want to be around anyone.

Bob turned to face him anyways, the smell of rain and vanilla wafting up John’s nose as he did. He could feel the brunette smiling at him. He peeked one eye open, closing it just as quickly as he had opened it once he got a look at Bob.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”, John scoffs, making sure to keep his tone playful and not be an ass for no reason.

Bob’s eyes widened and his mouth opened to say something, but he quickly closed it.

John laughed softly; “I’m just messing with you, Bobby.”

Bob’s face softened then, turning his back to sit leaning against the couch cushions as Yelena put a movie on the tv. Everyone was there, Bucky in his recliner and Alexei in his own. They’d both be asleep before the credits rolled. Ava huddled up under a blanket with Yelena, they’d grown quite close in the months they’d all been living together. John forced himself to at least pretend to watch the movie, he just hoped nobody asked him any questions; he wouldn’t have an answer.

The pain killers finally kicked in about forty-five minutes later, the sharp throb becoming more dull, enough he could pay attention now. He could feel Bob glancing at him occasionally, but he pretended not to notice. He knew Bob was catching on, but he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to be seen like that, not now, not by him. Bob was practically invincible. John wished he had some of that to fix his head, or at least that his serum would start working properly again.

Yelena and Alexei were arguing in the background, something in Russian that John couldn’t understand. He made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, hovering by the kitchen island for a few moments before returning to his seat. The movement of sitting down was too swift; his ears starting ringing again and his head pulsed. He gripped his temple with his free hand, closing his eyes as a small groan left his lips. His body practically hunching in on itself as he steadied himself with his elbows on his knees. He hoped nobody noticed. His luck wasn’t that good though. Not with a bunch of trained assassins and super soldiers sitting all around him.

“John? You alright?”, Bucky spoke up first. John knew he was serious when he used his first name; he was always Walker to them. All eyes were on him now.

John squeezed his temple a little harder and shook his head, letting the ringing pass.

“Yeah”, John spoke, voice gravely; “Just a headache.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, neither did anyone else around him. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught John wincing like that. But none of them pressed any further. John sighed a quiet breath of relief when everyone moved their gazes off of him. Well all except one. Bob’s gaze lingered a little longer, it had been lately.

———

John ended up in the gym when the movie was over. He wasn’t tired enough yet, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. So he figured he’d tire himself out. He was alone in the gym, and he hoped it would stay that way. The ceiling lights were too fluorescent and bright, the subtle buzz hitting inside his head in a way he didn’t like. So he turned the lights down.

He lined himself up with a punching bag, his feet firmly in position on the mat below him. He didn’t bother wrapping his knuckles; he wanted the pain. He wanted to feel something other than his head. He swung his fists forward once, then twice; each hit harder than the last. The punching bag swung with a growing ferocity.

John could hear the chains holding it up clinking together. He could hear them squeak slightly with every hit, but he ignored it. He punched harder. His mind was reminding him of every mistake he’d made that night. How he screwed up his image, screwed up with Lemar, screwed up with Olivia, screwed up as Captain America. He saw himself as a failure. No matter how much the team told him that this was their redemption; he still tore himself down.

He felt the blood running down his knuckles as his skin split, but he didn’t care. He just punched harder and harder, leaving small marks of blood on the punching bag where his knuckles hit it. The gym was quiet except for his grunting and heavy breathing; the sound of knuckles against the punching bag taking over. His head thumped. So he punched even harder.

He hit the same spot over and over, his head reeling with frustration. He was angry. Angry at himself, at the serum for not destroying this stupid tumor. He wanted it to all go away. John’s fists collided with the punching bag in one last obliterating punch; breaking the chains and sending it flying across the room.

John stood up straight and dropped his fists, breathing heavily as he stared at the now ruined punching bag. It wasn’t the first one he’d broken, and it wouldn’t be the last. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pushing it out of his face. He found himself by one of the various benches, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. He drank down the rest of his water and sighed.

Then everything changed. John’s ears rung even louder, almost buzzing. Pain shot through his head like a bolt of lightning, making him squeeze his eyes shut; his hand going up to grip at his head. His vision started tilting, so he shook his head, trying to regain control. John forced himself to take a few steps, but the world tilted more. Before he knew it he was falling to the mat below his feet, hitting with a loud thud as everything went black.

———

Chapter Text

———

When John opened his eyes everything was on its side. The rack of weights in front of him, the mirror; even the mat below him looked like it was standing straight up.

His head buzzed, and he felt abnormally heavy. His body felt like it weighed a million pounds. He carefully rolled himself over onto his back, the drool on the mat from where he’d landed separated from his mouth, leaving a small wet spot where he’d been. He shut his eyes and caught his breath.

I’m screwed, he thought. Hiding the pain he could handle. But now he was passing out too? What if someone had found him like that? What if it happens again, and what if he’s not alone? He’d have to come clean. No, he told himself; he wouldn’t allow himself to be that weak.

John pushed himself up off the mat, sitting there for a moment before he forced himself to his feet. He steadied himself on one of the benches again, sighing before he grabbed his stuff and headed to the elevator. He was exhausted now. The elevator ride felt slow, opening carefully onto a now empty common room, the only light being the moon and light from the time on the stove and microwave clocks.

John trudged to his room, limbs heavy and sore. He barely managed to get undressed when he shut the door behind him; his clothes landing scattered on the floor as he pulled them off. He didn’t bother showering; he didn’t have the strength or energy for it. He’d make sure he showered in the morning.

John climbed, or more flopped, into bed, pulling the covers over himself quietly. His heavy eyes shut almost instantly. The dark room around him swallowed him whole, the coolness of his pillow dulling the ache in his head ever so slightly; pulling him into a deep sleep that he so badly longed for and needed.

———

John was startled awake the next morning by an almost siren like noise; the smoke alarm in the kitchen going off. One inhale and smell of the air was enough for him to know Alexei was attempting to cook again. The whole floor smelled like burnt bacon and toast. John wasn’t really hungry anyway; a protein shake would do.

He forced himself to shower, enjoying the slow drum of the water against his sore neck. He knew the headache would return soon enough, so he made the best of the time he had. He pulled on some sweatpants and an old t-shirt that probably had more tears in the hem than was worth trying to save. But he kept it anyway.

“Walker, ya got a minute?”, Bucky stopped him just as his feet barely hit the hallway floor.

John mentally sighed, but nodded his head; “No yeah…sure.”

He found himself following Bucky into one of the conference rooms, the door shutting behind them automatically as he took a seat. It swiveled slightly under the suddenness of John’s weight, creaking as John flung his left ankle up to rest on his right kneecap. His chin automatically rested in his hand, trying his best not to look tired. Not to look completely exhausted.

Bucky sat down across from him, wheeling closer to the table and sighing.

“Listen I’m just going to get straight to it. We’ve got a big mission coming up tomorrow. Are you up to it?”, Bucky states, not beating around the bush.

John’s face drops and his eyes widen, but he forces a smile that Bucky can probably tell is fake.

“What do you mean ‘am I up to it?’ Of course I’m up to it”, John defends, his voice stern but slightly higher than usual.

Bucky adjusts his posture in his chair; “John. We’ve all noticed a change in you recently. Bob said-“

“Bob put you up to this?”, John cuts him off.

Bucky shakes his head; “No. He just…had some concerns. We all do. You’re not yourself, man. Just…” Bucky sighs and runs a hand down his face; “You sure you’re ok? There’s nothing going on?”

No he wasn’t ok, his mind immediately screamed. ‘Yeah oh by the way, I’m slowly being killed by a tumor in my head because my serum doesn’t want to get rid of it, how’s that for ok?’ John’s jaw tightened. He ground his teeth together a little harder than he wanted to. A jolt of pain shot his temple, making him close his eyes and grip the chair of the arm rest with his free hand.

“I’m fine, Barnes. All good”, John tells him, jaw still slightly tightened.

Bucky stares at him for a moment, but he doesn’t press any further, doesn’t ask anymore questions. He just stands, still looking at John; “Alright. Then be ready bright and early tomorrow.”

Then Bucky leaves the room. John doesn’t stand. His head falls into both of his hands as soon as Bucky is out of sight. He felt bad for lying. But the last thing he wanted was to be seen as weak, didn’t want to be a burden or a liability. John stayed with his head in his hands for a few moments, breathing through the discomfort in his temple that was slowly dissipating. He was thankful for that, at least. He forced himself to focus on the upcoming mission, at least that would give him something to put all his attention onto, something he was good at.

———

The next morning when the mission rolled around John was running late. He took too long in the shower waiting for his painkillers to kick in. He dragged his feet putting his suit on and pulling on his boots. When he finally arrived in the common room, all eyes were on him. He immediately caught Bucky’s glance that screamed concern. ‘You look awful’, was surely what Bucky was thinking. But he didn’t ask him any questions, didn’t pry; even if he felt like he should. The rest of the team didn’t ask any questions either, they just filed onto the jet, taking off quickly after they boarded.

John realized he had gravitated towards a chair immediately after boarding, something he rarely ever did. He sighed as the weight shifted off his feet upon sitting down, but his moment of quiet was brief.

“Late night, princess?”, Yelena asks him, hovering above him.

John scoffed; “Oh yeah, waiting for prince charming, ya know?”

John saw Yelena’s eyes drift to Bob who was sitting on the other side of the jet, flicking through a book. Tactical suit snug on his body.

“What?”, John asked, furrowing his brows.

Yelena only smirked, shaking her head; “Nothing. Go back to your tower, Walker.”

John rolled his eyes as she walked away, but briefly caught Bob’s gaze as he did. The brunette smiled awkwardly at him, offering a small wave that John returned. He found himself wondering what Yelena was implying, and if he was honest, he was kind of scared to pull at that particular thread. So he focused on the mission briefing in his lap. He’d probably read it at least six times now, almost had it memorized. But, it was keeping him busy and not letting his mind wander deep into that new, unexplored territory.

They landed smoothly, most of the team; Yelena, Alexei, Bucky, and John himself, exiting soon after going over the mission one more time. Ava and Bob stayed behind on the jet, running comms and being prepared for a quick getaway if need be. They scaled up the building they’d landed on, climbing higher onto the roof beside it. The ground below them was far. John would be lying if he said it didn’t make him a little nervous. It almost made him laugh, a super soldier, afraid of heights?

John was in the lead as they quietly made their way across the rooftop, each of them in a single file behind him; weapons in hand and ready for use. Everything was going as planned, each step in time with each other, so far no threats to the mission or anyone they had to fight. But when John stepped up to the very edge of the roof, things went sideways.

The blinding pain in his head suddenly came back full force, making him grunt to himself and squeeze his eyes shut tight. He reached up towards his left temple with his hand, his head starting to spin and ears ringing. His legs felt weak, like his knees would give out at any second. He tried to shake the feeling away, but it wouldn’t budge.

Before he knew what was happening, John had become too out of it to know how close to the edge he was, too dizzy and blinded by pain to keep himself stable and upright. His body started leaning sideways; he was falling.

He could almost make out the city line below him, growing closer by the second, blurring underneath him. ‘Fuck not this,’ he thought; ‘not here, not now.’ He was using everything in him to keep himself from tipping over; but it wasn’t working. A pair of strong arms reached out around him; the cool metal arm using all its strength to keep John on the roof. Bucky grunted behind him, his feet planted hard against the ground beneath him, pulling with all his might to get John back from the ledge. Behind him; Alexei grabbed onto Bucky and pulled them both, the extra set of hands finally being enough to move John backwards and keep him from falling twelve stories.

John was sitting up against a wall when he finally regained enough of his awareness to know what was happening more than just the stabbing pain in his head. Yelena was crouched in front of him, looking more worried than he’d ever seen her; at least towards him.

“Walker? Walker are you ok?”, Yelena’s voice came, slightly muffled by the fading ringing in John’s ears.

Above them Bucky and Alexei stood, Bucky’s arms crossed but the worry on his face gave him away.

“What was that?”, Bucky asked, it came out breathy like he was still trying to draw air in normally again.

John only shook his head once more, willing the pain to leave. His chest was heaving, he was sweating, but mostly, he was embarrassed.

“Just didn’t eat enough today I guess”, John finally responded.

But by the looks on his teammates faces, he could tell they weren’t buying it.

“Yelena, take him back to the jet. Alexei and I will finish this”, Bucky says.

John protests; “Bucky, no. I’m fine. I can-“

“You’re not fine! You almost just fell off a twelve story building to your death!”, Bucky cuts him off, sighing and pointing to where they had all just came from; “Back to the jet, now. That’s not a suggestion.”

John had only seen Bucky this stern a few times before, he knew with that tone he meant business. John wanted to argue more, but gave up as the ringing in his ears grew slightly louder as he tried to stand. He didn’t say anything, just finally looked at Bucky and nodded, allowing Yelena to keep her arm around his waist for balance as she pulled him to his feet, making sure to walk carefully back to the jet.

John could hear the collective confusion from Ava and Bob when he and Yelena reached the jet; it was muffled, but it was there. He didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as he was set down on one of the long benches and forced to lay down. The cool seat on the back of his head did something to relieve the pain, he was thankful for that at least. He felt his eyelids drooping, and fought against it. He fought so hard to make himself focus on the people in front of him; Bob’s worried expression especially stuck out to him. He didn’t want to be the reason that Bob looked like that.

It all became too much as the final bits of hearing in his ears faded away.

“Walker? John!”, Ava, Yelena and Bob’s collective voices filled his ears before everything went black.

———

When John eventually opened his eyes he immediately knew he wasn’t in his room. The sheets were different, the pillows obnoxiously soft. The scent of mint and rain surrounded him. He felt like he should jump up and flee, but god, he was so comfy.

He suddenly realized he wasn’t alone when someone shifted next to him. His eyes blew wide as he looked up and found the person’s face; Bob was staring softly back at him.

Shit. This was Bob’s room.

“Hey”, Bob spoke softly, “You’re awake.”

John forced himself to lean on his elbows, looking around the room and blinking the grogginess from his eyes.

“Yeah, I mean I think so”, John replied.

He swore he heard the faintest choke of a laugh escape Bob’s mouth, but when he looked at him, all he saw was worry. The expression he hated seeing on the man’s face.

It stayed quiet for a moment, as if neither one of them knew what to say, before Bob eventually spoke up.

“You had us all worried to death”, He says solemnly, sadness in his eyes and worry etched on his face.

John’s expression drops, his eyes wide as he looks at the brunette in front of him. So sad looking John felt his heart crack a little in his chest.

“You blacked out one the flight home…We couldn’t get you to wake up”, Bob fills in the blanks for him, already being able to sense John wasn’t exactly sure what happened.

“I did?”, John asks, brow furrowed, slightly confused.

Bob nods; “Yeah. Right after you almost fell off a twelve story building.”

Suddenly it all comes rushing back to John and hits him like a truck. He remembered the ground being way too close in his view. Bucky’s metal arm grabbing him as tight as he could. He’d fucked up. He was making his condition too well known.

“Fuck, sorry”, John apologizes with a sigh; “Don’t know what came over me.”

Bob’s playing with his sleeves now; “Lena said you didn’t eat this morning?”, It’s more of a question than a statement; “…I don’t really know if I believe that.”

John’s looking at him again. He didn’t expect Bob to confront him, not like this. What the fuck was he supposed to say? ‘Oh yeah I lied, I’m actually slowly being wrecked by a brain tumor in my head that can’t be operated on?’ No, that seemed just as unlikely as Bob confronting him.

John again opened his mouth to say something, but Bob was already shaking his head and pulling him back down against the pillows.

“We can talk about it later”, Bob tells him, pulling the covers up; “Right now you need to rest.”

John wants to argue, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t have the strength or the energy. He doesn’t know when Bob put his arm around his head, but it was there; fingers running softly through his hair, scratching his scalp so gently that John couldn’t keep his eyes open, he had to bite back the moan of content that teased at his lips.

He knew Bob wanted to ask if he was ok, as he had many times before, but something in the blue eyed man told himself not to. Like his mind was whispering: ‘not right now.’

Neither of them spoke, Bob just curled up next to John, his legs touching the blonde’s, almost nuzzled into his armpit. Normally, John would protest, he wouldn’t let anyone this close. He wouldn’t let his feelings rise to the surface. But there was something different about Bob. Something so undeniably and overwhelmingly gentle and honest about the shorter man, something that made John feel so safe.

“I’ve got you”, Bob’s voice said softly into the darkness, his cheeks resting against one side of Walker’s head, his hand still gently stroking the strands of blonde hair on the other side of his head;

“You’re safe here”, was the last thing John heard before he drifted off again.

———

Chapter Text

-

John was the first to wake up the next morning, still lying next to Bob. Somehow, the brunette had managed to scoot even closer to him, his hand and head on John’s chest. John didn’t know what to think, it made a sudden vibrant feeling appear in his chest. It was fuzzy, almost yellow sunshine and all butterflies. Strong enough to knock the wind from his lungs. He didn’t move, didn’t dare disturb Bob, not when he was so comfortable, so peaceful; not when he looked so beautiful.

So John stayed put. He tried his best not to move, but eventually he had to carefully pull himself away from Bob, replacing his own body with another pillow in an attempt to keep from waking him.

John quietly slipped out of the bed, the scent of rain and mint lingering on his skin, his chest still tingling where Bob had been lying against him. He found himself grazing over the spot with his own fingers, gently touching as if his own skin would ruin it. He pushed himself up, searching the semi-dark room for his socks that he’d discarded the night before.

He didn’t dare sit on the bed to put them on, the shift in weight would surely wake the younger man lying there. So he balanced himself on one foot, wobbling a little and reaching out for Bob’s nightstand to steady himself. You’d think a super soldier would have better balance. But then again, John had always been clumsy; now it was like the serum enhanced that in him too.

John heard the rustling of blankets as he finally slipped his left sock onto his foot, turning his head to find Bob peering up at him with sleepy lidded eyes. So dark blue and stormy John swore he could dive in them and never reach the bottom.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you”, John said softly, standing straight on his own two feet again.

Bob yawned softly; “S’Okay.”

John wanted to thank him for letting him stay, wanted to tell him how much it had actually meant to him, how he hadn’t slept that peacefully in weeks. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. That was too vulnerable. Too much like everything was ok when it wasn’t.

“Where you off to so early?”, Bob asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

John ran his fingers through his bed headed hair once, sighing softly when he realized there was no dull ache there yet.

“Just got some things to do today”, John says, sitting back down next to Bob; “I’ll be back this afternoon.”

Bob nodded, just staring at John. The blonde felt the pink heat rising up his neck under Bob’s gaze, not used to that kind of attention; especially from him. Bob reached out and grabbed John’s wrist, rubbing a circle softly into the back of his hand; the simple touch relaxed John way more than he’d ever like to admit.

“Just be safe, ok?”, Bob said, worry evident in his voice.

Bob knew John wasn’t ok. The feeling in the back of his mind only grew after the events of the previous day’s mission.

“I will”, John tells him as he stands.

For a moment, Bob doesn’t let go of John’s hand. He holds it like it’s a lifeline, like it’s giving him the courage to be saying these things, to express his concern. Like John’s skin against his own was completely powering him at such an early hour. Then he squeezes John’s hand gently, not hard, just enough to make sure they both knew it happened, and then he lets go.

John hesitated for a moment, truthfully not wanting to leave Bob at all if he was honest. He’d climb back into that warm bed in a heartbeat if he could. But they were just friends, right? It didn’t meananything. It was just Bob being Bob, being protective and loving.

John tried not to think about it long as he left Bob’s room, quietly closing the door behind him.

The sun was barely up, just staring to coat the walls and floor in a soft gold. Thankfully, no one else was up yet, so he slipped away from Bob’s room unnoticed. He found himself leaning up against the wall as he waited for the elevator, closing his eyes and tilting his head back; a long sigh escaping his lips. What am I going to do? He thought.

———

John found himself sitting on the all too familiar medbay exam bed, the sheet of paper crinkling underneath him each time he moved. The exam gown hung from his shoulders way too heavily for how light it actually was; maybe it just felt heavy like the weight of the entire situation.

Dr. Robbins stood in front of John, explaining something to him that he felt like he’d heard a million times at this point; his ears automatically tuned the spiel out. Only when the doctor’s tone shifted did John force himself to pay attention.

“So with that in mind, we’d like to start you on two different types of injections”, Dr. Robbins tells him, sitting down a wheeled stool in front of him.

“Injections?”, John asked.

“One every two to three weeks that will be made of some of your extracted immune cells, administered here. We’ll treat them in the lab and then inject them back into your body with the hopes that the rejuvenated cells will fight better against the tumor”, Robbins says, stopping to inhale deeply; “The second is basically just a morphine injection at this point for your pain. You can administer it yourself, up to three times a week, nothing more.”

John only nods, barely noticeable, but it’s there.

“Your tumor unfortunately has grown slightly bigger. The injections will hopefully help contain that growth and stop it,” Robbins explains, ripping off the sheet from his clipboard and handing it to John.

John takes it, keeping his eyes trained on the paper out of fear that if he looked up it would be all the more real.

“Any questions?”

John shakes his head, and soon finds himself standing in the hallway outside medbay waiting for the elevator. A bag of pain medicine injections in one hand, the paper in his other.

The back of his head found the cool metal wall of the elevator again once he stepped inside, sighing through his nose at the slightest bit of relief. The sound of his teammates met his ears as the doors opened, but this time it oddly comforted John. He hadn’t seen much of the team all together in a while.

“Bucky, tell your cat my guinea pig is not a toy!!”, Yelena called out.

Bucky scoffed; “Tell your guinea pig to stay out of Alpine’s food.”

John slipped past them, a soft smile on his lips as he dropped the stuff in his hands off in his room. He found himself walking back into the common room, everyone’s eyes turning to him.

“Hey John”, Bob was the first to greet him, voice and face soft, eyes big and round.

John nodded his way, finding an empty spot on the couch and flopping down onto the soft cushions.

“Where’ve you been all morning?”, Ava asks, barely clocking John tensing up at the question.

John shrugged, taking a beer from Bucky’s outstretched hand.

“Just ran some errands. Figured i’d get them done before dinner”, John tells them.

The group collectively sips their drinks almost in sync, each of them nodding softly and staring at the space in front of them.

“Speaking of”, Alexei says, “What is dinner?”

John catches himself chuckling at the Russian’s forwardness as the topic quickly changes to various ideas of food to get. Ultimately they end up deciding on the corner takeout place down the street.

John wanders his way back to his room while they wait for Bucky to return, turning the water in his shower up the hottest it can go. Steam filled his bathroom within a minute, dew drops appearing on his back as he removed his clothes. The heat and warmth made him sigh. The water always did the truck to ease his aching head. Though he found his mind drifting to Bob and how he ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and he found himself wishing he had the soft touch of Bob’s fingers instead. The thought of the sensation made John feel all the tension in his body ease, relaxation taking over.

———-

John slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before pulling on his pajama pants, slipping a white tee over his head. He found a pair of his slippers and headed back towards the common room, the sound of his teammates once again filling his ears as he got closer. He could smell food, and for once he was actually looking forward to a decent meal for the first time in a while.

He happily joined his teammates around the kitchen island, staying somewhat quiet but finding himself laughing way more than he had in a long time. The banter seemed effortless, like they all belonged together; and John liked to think they did. The dinner discussions developed into sitting around the coffee table, and before John knew it; suddenly a movie was playing on the tv.

This was the first movie night John had been a part of in a while.

He found himself looking around the room with a soft smile tugging on his lips; he was happy. The brunette to his left must have noticed his gaze; and was reaching out to rub a small circle on the back of John’s hand again, offering a light squeeze. John’s smile widened. He was present, he felt important; he felt loved.

He found himself watching how Bucky tried to hide a smirk on his lips when someone said something funny or something funny happened on the tv. The way Yelena and Ava instinctively leaned into each other under the blanket they shared. The way Alexei’s laugh bounced off the walls, and his snores when he’d start to drift off, only for Yelena to throw popcorn at him to wake him up.

Then there was Bob, sweet and shy Bob, who kept looking back at John like he hung the moon.

That’s when John realized he probably looks at Bob the same way. To him, just a boy from a small town in Georgia, Bob probably could’ve, at least in John’s mind. Bob was everything to him.

Even more so, he didn’t want to deny it anymore. He was scared of getting close and ruining everything, scared of the stupid tumor in his head, but none of that mattered when it came to Bob.

———

That evening John tried to administer one of his injections by himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. His hands shook too much; sure he was a super soldier, but he was also afraid of needles.

He eventually gave up with a loud grunt, tossing the syringe down for a moment before grabbing it again and leaving his room. He knocked softly on the now familiar door, trying to find his composure as he heard rustling inside.

Bob stood in front of him a moment later, inviting John in with a shake of his head.

“John? Everything ok?”, Bob asked softly.

John grunted again, sighing and holding up the hand with the syringe; “I uh…I need some help.”

Bob didn’t say anything, only nodded and took it from John’s grasp, allowing the blonde to lift his shirt just enough that the roundness of his hip was exposed.

“Probably gonna sting a little”, Bob warned him, watching John inhale deeply before he stuck the needle in.

John winced, the prick of a needle way different than any knife or bullet wound. He’d never get used to it, not that he was used to the others either.

“All done”, Bob tells him, smiling softly up at him before putting a small band-aid over the spot and tossing the syringe in the trash.

John only lowers his shirt and nods, following Bob with his eyes before going to sit next to him when Bob pats the spot beside him.

“Aren’t you going to ask?”, John finally asks him after a moment of silence.

Bob shakes his head; “No.”

John eyes him curiously.

“Figured if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me”, Bob replies.

That’s all John needs to hear.

John once again found himself in Bob’s bed again that night, curled up underneath his comforter; the younger man’s head on his chest again and hand over his heart, fingers massaging his head and running through his hair.

———

It was two in the morning when John woke up, a slight ache behind his eyes. He carefully untangled himself from Bob’s limbs and slipped out of the room.

He trudged to the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey, and found refuge in one of the recliners in the common room. He didn’t bother setting down his glass, knowing it would be empty soon, and brought the rest of the bottle with him.

He stretched his neck out as he sat down, feeling the muscles in his shoulders that were so tight and tense loosen a bit. He tilted his head back and sighed through his nose again before bringing the glass in his hand up to his lips.

He didn’t know how long he’d sat there with his eyes closed, but soft feet and one of the lamps being turned on made him peel his eyes open.

Bob was standing across the room from him by the far end of the couch, sleepily looking down at John with a concerned look on his face.

“Can’t sleep?”, Bob asks, plopping himself down on the end of the couch closest to John, a glass of water now in his hands.

John shakes his head.

“Me neither…my bed buddy left me. Got cold”, Bob tries with a small laugh.

John only nods, a small smile on his lips, but doesn’t speak, trying his best the will the pain out of his head.

“Wanna talk about it?”, Bob asks him.

John shakes his head again, sipping at his whiskey.

“You know when we first moved in here I spent a lot of nights out on the balcony because of that”, Bob starts.

John can see his lips moving now, trying his best to listen to the words leaving Bob’s mouth. He catches a few, but most of the story fades to muffled sentences as the ringing in his ears returns.

Still he watches Bob talk, so passionate and wide eyed; laughing at himself and shaking his own head when he found something funny. He looked so pretty in the moonlight, so soft and gentle, delicate almost. That almost made John laugh to himself, the Sentry, more powerful than all the Avengers combined; he found delicate.

As Bob finished his story and a silence grew between them again, Bob looking at John with those soft blue eyes again; John thought screw it.

He was tired of fighting alone, tired of being weak and forcing himself to suffer and adapt while no one else knew. He could knock at least one wall down, right? Especially if it was his wall towards Bob; which wasn’t very strong to begin with.

Just as Bob was starting another sentence, John took a deep breath and let the words out. He was finally confessing why he’d been so weird lately, silencing the brunette across from him;

“I have a brain tumor.”

———

Chapter Text

———

“I have a brain tumor.”

The words linger in the air like smoke. Heavy, resilient, suffocating.

Bob’s glass slips from his hands, spilling down the side of the couch; but neither of them care.

Bob’s face is almost completely white, his normal rosy complexion was nonexistent now; like all the blood had been drained from his body.

John can hear him swallow hard, licking his lips like he hadn’t had a drink in days. John could see the glassiness take over the brunette’s deep blue eyes, and god that hurt him more than anything.

“How-“, Bob says one word before stopping, searching John’s face frantically. There are no words.

“Doctor says it must’ve been there before the serum. Now the serum’s just encasing it…protecting it in some twisted way”, John fills in the blank for him, eyes trained on his almost empty whiskey glass.

John can hear Bob shifting on the couch, he holds his whiskey glass tighter, almost to the point it would shatter if he squeezed any harder. His fingernails dug into his palm, but he ignored the pain, ignored the blood. All he could focus on was Bob. The only other person who knew his secret. The only person he could ever be this vulnerable with. The only person he trusted with this huge weight, that should’ve felt like it was lifted off his shoulders; but remained the same.

Nothing could’ve prepared John for Bob’s reaction. He never wanted to hurt the younger man, seeing Bob upset; hurt more than anything he’d felt the last couple months. It struck him deep in the chest like knives and fire. The smoke of words in the air felt thicker to him; heavier.

The silence hung heavy over the room, John moving his almost empty glass enough that the mostly melted ice cube moved around inside, clinking against the edges of it. His gaze wasn’t on Bob, but he knew Bob’s was on him. He tried to shift in his seat, but that only made the silence worse. Eventually he had enough and stood, making his way to the kitchen to refill his whiskey glass; empty bottle going with him.

John thought that would be the end of it. Maybe Bob would just slip out of the common room quietly, maybe he wouldn’t say anything else. Maybe he wouldn’t even acknowledge it.

Then, there in the achingly quiet kitchen, only lit up by the moon; a pair of hands wrapped around John, arms pulling him in tight. John froze, he didn’t blink. He turned around in the other man’s grip and looked down; wet, deep blue, stormy eyes looked back up at him.

Bob’s face was now pressed against John’s chest, the warmth of their bodies melting together in a way neither of them had really felt before. Normally, extra heat would cause their serum-ridden bodies to overheat, but this? This felt right. It felt just warm enough, cozy; safe.

“You’re not alone in this, John”, Bob finally spoke, voice so soft and hoarse; “Not anymore.”

John found himself sighing a breath of relief he didn’t know he’d been holding long enough his lungs burned. His body relaxed, allowing his chin to rest ontop of the brunette’s curly mess of hair, his arms finally returning the gesture and pulling Bob closer to him.

“Whatever you need, I’ll…I’ll be there. No matter what”, Bob tells him, eyes still wide and trained on the blonde’s face.

John still doesn’t say anything, just lets Bob squeeze him tightly once more, before the shorter man makes his way back towards the dimly lit hallway, only stopping to turn around for a moment.

“Oh uh, and don’t worry. This’ll stay between us”, Bob reassures him.

John relaxed even more, he hadn’t even had to ask, Bob just knew. Something about Bob being able to read him so easily had his mouth going dry, but he didn’t know what to call the feeling.

The pain in John’s head danced slightly away as he took another big swig of his glass, emptying it completely. His eyes were trained in the same spot they had been, his gaze unable to leave the hallway where the person running through his mind had just been standing moments before.

———

After that night, something shifted between John and Bob. It wasn’t intentional by any means, yet still it happened. They’d hardly talked in weeks, never letting themselves be alone together. Neither of them really knew what to say.

They weren’t purposely trying to avoid each other but, John hadn’t asked for help, so Bob didn’t pry. Yet still their gazes met across the room, lingering longer than they probably should. Bob’s eyes looked stormy again across the common room, making John shift on his feet.

“You got all that, Walker?”, Yelena asks, eying him suspiciously from where her elbows were propped on the countertop.

John’s head suddenly snapped towards her; “Yeah, got it.” But he didn’t.

Mission briefs had become a blur to him. He was worried he’d lose it again, pass out, or worse; let his secret out. He knew Bob would keep it. Bob would never do anything like that, he wouldn’t tell, not when John had asked so seriously.

It hurt Bob a little when he saw John slip out of the common room seconds after Yelena had wrapped up. The others didn’t say anything, maybe they didn’t notice or just figured it was John being himself; but Bob noticed. Bob knew John wasn’t himself.

His feet were carrying him back the hallway before he could change his mind.

John’s door was slightly ajar, so Bob just let himself slip in, he didn’t knock, and let the door close softly behind him. John’s eyes widened when he saw him, his mouth parting to speak, but Bob doesn’t give him a chance.

“What’s the deal, Walker??”, Bob spats, tone harsher than he meant it to be; “You drop this big secret on me and then avoid me for weeks? Am I suddenly not good enough anymore?”

“Bobby…”

“No! Don’t give me that. Don’t try to make an excuse!”, Bob huffs a big breath towards the end; “…I said I was going to be there for you…I intend to keep that promise.”

John doesn’t know what to say, he’s dropping down to sit on his bed before he even realizes he’s moving. Something about Bob’s words hit him deep in the chest in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

John sighs, looking up to meet Bob’s gaze;

“I’m sorry, Bob. I just…”, His hands run aggressively through his hair again, “I don’t know how to do this.”

Bob scoffs a laugh; “You think I do?”

Bob lowers himself to kneel in front of John now, elbows resting on the soldier’s knees. He’s looking at John like he created the universe, like he was the greatest thing to ever exist; to Bob, he was.

“I’m scared”, John finally admits, voice so low Bob would’ve missed it if it wasn’t for his enhanced hearing.

Bob instantly cups John’s cheek with his hand, instinct telling him to comfort the blonde;

“I know you are.”

John leans into the warm touch, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he closes his eyes, all the air in his lungs exiting through his nose in one big sigh. His forehead drops, and suddenly it’s pressed against Bob’s.

“I’ve got you”, Bob tells him, eyes wandering John’s face.

The few freckles he has are more prominent now, the bags under his eyes still purple. The curve of his nose nudges against Bob’s own. Mole’s scatter up his neck and around his ears, a few going into the short strawberry blonde beard framing his face; like little constellations if they were all to be connected.

Their breath intermingles in the air, pressing against each other’s faces until neither of them can take it anymore, and the gap between them finally closes.

It’s soft, needy and messy in a way only pent up desire and want could be, but not rough enough to ruin the moment between them. Bob’s lips are soft, cherry chapstick transferring over to John’s slightly cracked lips, soothing the wounds he’d chewed open so many times. Bob’s hand cupped the back of John’s neck, and when John returned the action, tugging at the soft curls at Bob’s nape? Well Bob almost melted right there, the soft noise that escaped his lips had John’s mind reeling.

Eventually they broke apart for air, stormy blue and foggy sky blue eyes met, searching for anything they could find, even if they didn’t know what they were looking for.

Neither of them spoke, but once again something between them shifted as John pulled Bob up onto the bed with him, laying the brunette’s head on his chest, mirroring the way they had been so many nights ago.

Bob’s hand found its way to gently rub at John’s scalp, his instincts kicking in again, wanting to soothe away any pain the blonde might have. His other hand was over John’s chest, feeling the pace pick up slightly as they touched, just enough to make John’s cheeks pink up when he realized Bob could feel it.

“Can you stay?”, John asks softly.

“Always.”

———

Bob and John were stuck together like glue after that. They walked side by side like they were joined at the hip. Anywhere John went, Bob wasn’t far behind. Anything John needs, Bob’s already there doing it or helping him.

If John winces or sneezes, Bob is by his side in seconds, checking the soldier over like he might break. Any appointment? Bob’s there waking John up an hour early, making sure he eats before and has plenty of water (even if John swears whiskey is just fine.)

Bob helps John with his shots each time he needs it, smacking him playfully when the blonde fakes an over exaggerated wince.

Now; as they wait for John’s results in medbay, Bob hands John his clothes to change out of the hospital gown he’s in. Bob only returning to his seat when John sits down too.

“Bobby, stop that, you’re gonna put a dent in the floor”, John says, eyebrow raised in an amused arch.

Bob’s leg suddenly stops bouncing, his eyes flicking over to John at the sound of his voice, making himself sit up straight in his chair.

“Sorry”, Bob sighs, making John chuckle softly.

He reaches over and grabs Bob’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand; “I think you’re worse at this than I am.

“Of course I am, it’s about you”, Bob tells him, letting a beat go by; “Just need you safe.”

John almost lets the effect those words have on him show, but the door opening in front of them silences him.

It’s good news; the tumor hasn’t grown any. It fills them with relief, but the underlying feeling of dread is still there. It wasn’t going away.

Bob grabbed John’s hand again as they walked out of medbay and into the elevator. He bumps his shoulder against John’s softly but playfully, the blonde smiling back at him.

“Hungry?”, Bob asks him, chin resting on John’s shoulder as he holds his hand with both of his.

John smiles even wider; “You read my mind.”

———