thearena | The remains of what's left of our past, of a future yet to come

Bucky hasn't stopped since the arena started. His friend is out here somewhere, avoiding Bucky for some reason and that can't stand. Steve's going to be in trouble sooner than later in his de-serumed state if they can't find him and the idea chills him to the core.

He doesn't know what he's done, or what else the Capitol has done to Steve to make him run, but he won't stop until he finds Steve and drags him back to the group. After that Bucky would happily leave knowing Steve was with friends; what with the burning light hanging over his head and in the sky making him a liability to everyone around him. It'll be better if he avoids everyone if that's the cost of being a super-soldier in this arena.

Of course, in terms of derailing Bucky from his course, Aang has always been a special case.

"Aang." Bucky stares a little as he approaches, conscious of how much a beacon he is to everyone in the arena. "What are you doing out here?"

Aang has a constant beacon over his head as well. He cares much less than Bucky does, and it may be evident in the way he looks and moves. If possible, he's even more bendy and energetic than before, just as much as he was in the last powers arena. His skin is a healthier, more vibrant color, and there's a hum of energy all around him, oozing with health and joy. Without his bending, he can never be truly healthy, but he can be here.

"I'm doing cartwheels! This place is even better for bending than the metal base! Well, minus the animals that attack you for bending."

There's an extra bounce to his step when Aang approaches. He laughs, and it feels like the wind is laughing with him. "I feel everything again! I could feel you coming before I saw you! I--are you okay?" He only just now notices that there seems to be something up. His excitement can run away with him sometimes, but at least he can catch himself.

"Don't you think that means you shouldn't be using your bending?" Bucky points out, glancing around them as he does. His eyes flicker round the courtyard to the gate, then up around the walls and the windows of the castle. There are so many vantage points where a threat could be hiding here, it makes him nervous.

He's been refraining from making any overt use of his superhuman abilities for that reason, uncertain what it would take him doing to trigger an attack. It's not just the animals, he's seen the Capitol send lightning down from the sky against powered Tribute's.

"What?" Aang's question pulls him back and he looks down at the kid. "I'm fine. That's good that you can feel people approaching." Now if only Bucky could convince him should hide when he does.

"I've been good, don't worry." Sort of.

Aang eyes Bucky suspiciously, not quite buying that he's completely fine, but he's ready to tentatively let that go. He tries not to needle too hard at Bucky, since he wants to respect his privacy despite his (sometimes burning) curiosity. "Yeah. I've always been able to feel shifts in the wind tell me when something's wrong, but wind is pretty fickle and it can be hard to really feel a person. My earthbending teacher taught me how to feel vibrations in the ground, so I can feel footsteps."

He likes explaining things like this. It gives another piece of his world some kind of validation. His bending and his tattoos feel like they're all that he has left of home.

He's not fine, it's a lie to say he is and he feels bad for it. The things that are making him not fine though are things he doesn't want Aang worrying about. It's not hard for him to read the suspicion in Aang's eyes though when the kid wears his heart on his sleeve all the time.

"Sounds real handy." Bucky would like to have an ability like that. His senses are pretty finely attuned to his surroundings and he knows what to look for, sure, but it probably doesn't compare to what Aang can do. "Wish I could do that."

Maybe then he could know where Steve was even more accurately, he could find him just like that. Bucky almost winces at the thought. He knows better than to entertain thoughts like that. "Must be why you're lit up too."

Passive abilities, that's the cause for a constant flame. He worked it out earlier that week from careful observation of other Tribute's attempting to use their powers.

Aang very much wears his heart on his sleeve. He has the capability to hide his feelings--he's done it for Koh the Face-Stealer or Admiral Zhao--but he doesn't see why he should make a rule of it. He is full of feeling and life and why should he conceal any of that from the world?

It's gotten him in trouble before, but it's not in his nature to hide things. "It is. It wasn't fun learning it, though. My earthbending teacher is blind, so she'd blindfold me while we were learning so I'd be blind too. Then she'd throw rocks at me and I'd have to block them without seeing." Toph's lessons were rarely fun, but he can't deny she's been effective.

"Yeah, I can't turn off that, so I get a fire." Aang looks above Bucky's head. "You have one too. What can't you turn off?" The strength? The speed? He remembers Bucky's displays of power in the last powered arena.

That sounds like -- no, he's not going to think down that route. "Couldn't she have thrown anything softer?" he says with concern. Of course it's in the past for Aang and nothing about it can be changed now. Throwing something that would hurt leant a certain imperative to learning he was sure, but rocks seemed a step too far to Bucky.

Aang's question has him flicking his eyes upwards at the flame above his head for a moment. He didn't have to think for the answer, he already heavily suspected what it was but answering would lead more questions; one's that could be upsetting for Aang to hear the answers to.

"My healing ability."

Aang giggles, like Bucky just made a joke. Oh, classic Bucky, fretting over something as little as children being blindfolded and told to block the giant boulders thrown at them. "It was earthbending training. It's not earthbending if you're not bending rocks and dirt." Admittedly, Toph probably enjoyed the process more than necessary, but he definitely learned how to earthbend. "And Toph feels that the threat of pain helps the learning process."

Aang's smile falls a little when he hears that, his eyes going to the beacon again as he chews the inside of his cheek. "What's healing?"

Bucky just shakes his head at Aang's giggling. "It does, but..." there's no point in arguing it, really. "So long as you weren't seriously injured."

It still makes him inwardly wince to think about.

He can lie here, make out there's some small injury Aang can't see but lying to this kid just tastes sour in his mouth. Bucky has a feeling Aang can read him when he lies well enough. He draws in a breath to steady himself before leading Aang towards one of the walls. The cover doesn't really help when there's a beacon over your head but it still makes Bucky feel better to have.

"Do you remember how I told you the people who I -- who controlled me before took my memories away?" He didn't work for them, he was enslaved by them. The distinction is important. "The way they did it," Breathe, keep breathing. His hands clench into fists at his sides. "They had a... machine, it caused damage to my brain. That's what my body's trying to heal."

"I wasn't hurt. And if I ever was, I had my waterbending teacher around to help fix it." Katara had grown to be an excellent healer in the short time she practiced, probably because their merry little group had been so prone to bumps and bruises (and the occasional more serious 'bump and bruise.') For a bunch of children, they were a very self-sufficient bunch.

Not that it occurs to Aang to tell Bucky that all his teachers--all the people who were helping him every day to save the world--were children like him.

Aang does his best to keep from visibly tensing when he sees the shift in Bucky's demeanor, and again when Bucky starts to talk. Instead, he follows Bucky to the wall. Bucky doesn't talk about what happened to him much, and it's because every little new piece of it he reveals is horrifying. Damage his brain? How? Did the machine hit him on the head over and over until he couldn't remember anything? Why would they keep hurting him like that when he didn't do anything to them?

It's upsetting because Aang can't understand it. He can't understand what would drive someone to that kind of cruelty. Even at his angriest, he can't imagine taking a man apart and enslaving him like that. It's not right. It's not right and it shouldn't have happened and it shouldn't have happened to Bucky, and Aang doesn't know if there's any way to fix it.

He can't fix it... but maybe he can help. Just this one time, after all the times Bucky helped him. Aang keeps most of the horror from his face--he doesn't want to make this worse for Bucky than it is--and the pain and confusion that are visible in his eyes are undercut by a sudden stubborn set in his jaw. "Do things get better when your brain heals? Like, do you remember things again or feel better?" he asks cautiously, already thinking about how he might give something back to his friend for everything he's done.

He expected questions on how the machine worked, what it was. He'd been trying to prepare himself to explain the crackling electricity that burned the thoughts out of his head, leaving the scent of ozone and agony in its wake. Bucky would admit that, he would admit that it hurt, but not how much. He wouldn't tell Aang how he screamed himself voiceless each time because no child should have to carry that thought.

In retrospect he should have known Aang better by now that it wouldn't be the first thing he asked.

Prying himself away from the dark thoughts in his head took Bucky a moment and he breathed in deep before answering. It was in the past and HYDRA couldn't touch him now.

"It's easier to remember." He starts, though that's not all it is, "Makes it easier to think."

That's why it hurt so much when he died and they reset his body; he kept his memories but thinking, feeling took a step backwards, like he was fighting his way through a fog.

Aang can imagine answers to questions like that. He can imagine that anything that broke parts of a person's brain would hurt to go through. He doesn't know the extent, but he knows it must have hurt, and it must be horrible.

The stubborn set in the jaw etched itself deeper in his face. "I can help."

He's never healed a brain before. He's never even healed something worse than a scratch before. His healing experience is solely from what little Korra showed him and what he managed to teach himself. Despite this, he knows deep in his gut that he's done things like this in past lives, and he can help.

He reaches out to take Bucky's hand tightly, holding his gaze with eyes that are far more old and serious than they should be. "I can help heal it with waterbending. Let me help you."

"What?" Bucky's surprise flits over his face. "How can you--"

It makes him wonder if there's much that can't be done with this bending power of Aang's when he says that he can heal his mind. Of course his first reaction, even with the fear of the horrors that lurked still undiscovered inside his mind, is to say yes.

By this point his trust in Aang is absolute. He knows that if Aang tried to help him he would really mean to help him. Trust isn't the problem, the arena around them is.

"You can't. Not here."

"I just... can. Something about manipulating chi in your body. A Water Tribe healer would be able to explain better."

Really, it doesn't matter now. All he knows is that he can do it. He can help Bucky, just a little bit of help to repay all the times he'd been good and kind to Aang over the past ten months. He tightens his grip on Bucky's hand as his jaw just gets more stubborn and his heels dig into the ground. Unwittingly, he's taken an earthbending posture, the sort that not even a rock can move.

"Yes, I can. Who knows when we get a chance like this again? And if you win the arena, that means that you're that much closer to having your brain all healed. Trust me, I'll be safe."

"You'll try and there'll be a lightning strike, or an attack by the mutt's in the arena." Bucky tries to reason with the kid, even as the thought of getting pieces of himself back even faster hammers at the inside of his head insistently. He wanted it but not if it cost Aang his life or wellbeing. "You could be killed or hurt."

Sure, that death probably wouldn't last, but he knows how hard it hits Aang each time he dies and is pulled back. Bucky's sat with the kid in the aftermath, watching him try to come to terms with it. He never wants to be the cause of Aang having to go through that again.

He already knows that look that the kids wearing though, the one that's the steel underneath the bubbly exuberant exterior.

"I can take care of myself, especially with my bending. And if I can't? So what? I'll wake up back in the Capitol feeling kind of sick, and you'll be able to remember things better! Maybe it'll even stay that way if you win."

He can deal with pain. He doesn't like it, but he's familiar with it, and he knows how to endure. He's ready to do that--no, he wants to do that for Bucky, because Bucky's worth it to him.

"We don't need to do anything. We just need to sit down where the rain can hit us. Please let me help you."

You should win, not me. Bucky thinks. Aang deserves to get out of this cycle of death and murder, not him, he will if Bucky has anything to say about it. He can't voice that though, no one likes it when he talks that way.

His teeth sink into his lip, the flicker of pain a good sharp shock to the senses. Stay in the present, focus on what's happening now.

"I don't want you getting killed on my account, that's what." Bucky blow air out his nose, before turning his eyes upwards in almost beseeching gesture. There's no help from up above, that's for sure, he's not even sure he still believes in God at this point. "You're a stubborn kid."

God won't help you, Bucky. No one can tame Aang, not even divinity. It's been tried before.

On some level, Aang understands. He understands the urge to put one's friends before oneself. He also understands that Bucky is devoted to the people he cares about and he would probably prefer Aang win the games over him. He just hasn't made the connection in his head yet to realize how much Bucky would be ready to sacrifice for his sake.

"I'm only stubborn when there's something worth being stubborn about," he says earnestly. He glances around the courtyard, looking for something that they can sit on to avoid attacks from rats.

"Here." Aang keeps his grip tight on Bucky's hand as he attempts to drag the much bigger man towards a stone table, presumably used for merchant wares or to hold weapons once upon a time. It's covered with lichen, but it's tall and its legs are smooth enough to make it hard for a small animal to climb up. Not foolproof, but something. "We'll sit on this." Hopefully, it will hold Bucky's weight.

Bucky finds himself being pulled along.

For a moments he thinks about running but reflecting back on the space arena he's pretty sure he couldn't outpace Aang anyway. It looks like he better make himself resigned to this fate.

The best thing he can do now, he decides, is be ready to save Aang when the inevitable comes. He'll shield him with his own body if that's what it takes. The kid'll be mad at him but that's something Bucky will be able to live with.

"Fine." Bucky does so reluctantly. He shifts himself to be comfortable, lifting his eyes and tracking their surroundings as best he can. He can't see or hear anything to be worried about yet.

Aang noticeably brightens when Bucky allows himself to be dragged. Excellent, he can help.

When Bucky sits down on the table, Aang doesn't immediately follow. Instead, he glances around the courtyard. It's raining lightly, and all the water in the pots is stagnant and diseased. That's okay. He can work with the rain.

"I'd tell you to close your eyes, but I don't think you'll do that, so try meditating with your eyes open. Healing of the brain starts with a calm mind!"

He takes a deep breath, moving into a more centered position, as if he will begin a kata. There's a strange humming energy in the air, like everything around them, from the stone beneath their feet to the air and heat around them to the water falling from the sky is preparing itself.

He gracefully moves his arms outward, and the rain just... stops. In the courtyard, the raindrops are suddenly suspended in air. Immediately, there's a scratching sound as rats begin to get agitated.

"This might feel a little weird, but all you have to do is relax." The individual raindrops all begin flying towards Aang, converging on his hands, making thick watery gloves that cling and ripple over his skin as he dances away before rats can get him and sits on the table, legs crossed in front of Bucky.

Aang closes his eyes, ignoring the squeaks of the increasingly agitated rats and the flaring of his beacon. Instead, he concentrates inward, clearing out the gunk in his chakras and connecting with the lives he lived before.

His tattoos begin to glow. His entire demeanor changes--the smile falls away, the shoulders tense, the forehead creases--and when he opens his eyes, they're glowing. The water on his hands begins to glow as well, matching the same bluish light in his eyes and tattoos.

"Stay still." There's a hint of Aang's voice in the gravely growling noise the Avatar made, but it's devoid of any of his customary joy and it's overlaid by thousands of other voices, male and female and rumbling. It's not a nice tone he uses--not angry, but like his expression, so intense that it seems to border on rage. The Avatar reaches for Bucky, intending to press its water-gloved hands on his temples.

Bucky sits. Sits and waits.

He won't close his eyes, not here, not even for Aang. Alone, somewhere safer? Maybe. But not here, never in the arena.

Aang wants him to try and meditate and so he'll oblige. Bucky slows his breathing, the easy part, after all his level of control over his own body was conditioned to be pitch perfect. He's always aware of himself, from head to toe aware. Control. He slows his breathing and then tries not to think. Letting himself drift is hard, especially with what he's seeing before him.

Witnessing Aang's power in action never ceases to amaze him. Bucky was a weapon, he's more than human himself and he thinks from time to time his targets (other than the last) may have been counted among the Enhanced as well, but Aang is more than a level above anything he's ever seen.

He stops the rain. It's testament, in these moments, just how very much Bucky has come to trust this child. Even when Aang's eyes and arrows glow bright, the water glows bright, Bucky doesn't recoil, only sucks in a sharp breath.

It's Aang.

Bucky stays still and let's Aang put his brightly water covered hands on his head.

The intense expression and glowing don't go away. The Avatar presses its hands on Bucky's temple, the water glowing brightly. The healing isn't unpleasant, but the feeling is intense. The water is warm and, even if one closes their eyes, the healing gives off an impression of incredible light, though that may just be from Aang.

The rain falls again over them. The glowing eyes never move from Bucky's face, but the hands ease away. The water drips horizontally from the Avatar's palms to start circling around Bucky's head, seeming to instinctively move where the electrodes were attached when he was in Hydra's chair. The water maintains its warmth and glow as it keeps circling his head, favoring the areas of most trauma, the power working its way through the skull and into the brain. It feels like an adult hand behind the surprising efficiency and intensity, but there's still a care to it that belies the Avatar's borderline animalistic demeanor. Like even now, without any outward sign of the gentle boy's usual personality, Aang is taking care to protect Bucky.

The rats now swarm, trying to get at them but incapable of it, though their numbers are so many that the ground under their table looks like it's made of churning furry bodies.

Edited 2015-07-06 04:11 (UTC)

It... he doesn't know how to describe the sensation.

Not itching, not burning, not... but it's there, flowing, coursing through his head as he notably gasps out loud. In a way he feels suddenly helpless under Aang's hands, or whatever it is Aang has become. The Avatar is the word he uses and suddenly for the very first time Bucky feels like he's understanding the gravity of the position Aang holds. No, not that he holds, that he is.

It's the opposite, the exact opposite of how the Chair felt.

"Aang..." he can't entirely lose himself from reality, as distracting as the feeling of his mind being healed faster than his own accelerated regeneration is. Bucky can hear the scratching and squeaking of the swarm of rats like a horrible echo.

He doesn't want this to stop. He can already feel the clarity of thought that Aang is giving him, the presence of memories welling upwards, ready to spill over when this ends. Yet he is all too keenly aware that the Gamemaker's will not let this carry on indefinitely.

If the Avatar hears the warning, it doesn't act like it. The glowing eyes and intense face doesn't shift, and the glowing water doesn't miss a beat as it still circles around, getting between the strands of Bucky's hair without ever making him wet, because every drop of the water keeps rolling with the bending. Periodically, the Avatar will jerk its hand and some of the water is discarded on the ground with a splash, only to be swiftly replaced by the fresh water raining from the sky. There's a cold efficiency to what it does, a strange single-mindedness about reaching its goal.

Then the rats on the ground, now wet from rain and discarded healing water, suddenly disperse. The Avatar doesn't visibly react to the sudden absence of squeaking, but then there's a loud thunderclap as storm clouds gather above. Finally, the Avatar looks up from its work, watching the sky and the ridges between its brow getting deeper with what seems like irritation more than anything. It then looks back to its work, lifting some of the restrictions on the healing that Aang's concern placed. The impression of light is more powerful now, the intensity of healing more ruthless, the warmth intensifying, connections pulled together as urgency overtakes gentleness. The ground wobbles, the air stutters, the rain hesitates, and puffs of smoke exit the Avatar's nostrils. The elements are responding, even if the Avatar is not actively using them.

Something has goaded the Avatar into working faster. It can tell that the Gamemakers are putting an end to this soon, and it wants to give Bucky as much as he can get out of this brief session they have.

Thunder rumbles overhead and Bucky freezes. He knows what's coming and he has to do something.

If lightning hits them they're dead. Aang is too small and Bucky has a giant fucking conductor bolted onto the left side of his body, metal that will sizzle and melt and burn him from the inside out if he's hit. A wooden table doesn't exactly make for good grounding material either.

"Aang!" this time he's louder, sharper, trying to get through the Godlike presence that's possessed his friend to the boy underneath and make him listen. He can't have Aang die for him, he can't.

Bucky lifts his hand with effort, fighting his way through the spell that's laid on him, intending to reach out and push the kid free of the danger zone if he has to.

Bucky's internal struggle disrupts the healing, making the water wobble and dim, and the sharp call makes the Avatar's hard features soften in surprise, the glowing eyes becoming rounder and the hands flinching away from Bucky's head. All at once, the water loses its light and splashes, lifeless, onto Bucky's shoulders.

The Avatar looks at him, as if sizing him up (though it's hard to tell what it might be thinking at any time), before looking up at the sky. Thunder rolls over land, coming closer, like it's being targeted.

The Avatar looks back at Bucky, once again looking mildly annoyed, as if to say, have it your way, then.

Suddenly, all at once, the glow and strange demeanor are gone. Aang lets out a low noise as he sways in place and braces himself to avoid falling over. He doesn't have time to recover, though, because there's more thunder and the wind is wrong and the rain is falling harder. Aang doesn't need to be told what would happen to Bucky if he was hit with lightning. He knows what the metal arm would do.

So he's gone in a flash. Jumping off the table, rolling on the ground so he's far away. When the lightning comes down, he knows it'll come down on him, and he has to be away from Bucky.

"Kid--!" Bucky's awareness snaps sharp, calling on every inch of laid in training - from before and after - to pay attention to what's going on and fucking move. He wants to catch Aang before he falls but the boy is one step ahead of him, leaping away from Bucky's grasping hands across the muddied and rat covered ground. "No, damn it!"

He's lurching up, all six feet of him with an air to do something, protect Aang somehow from what's coming. If he's lucky he might just be able to time it right, to push Aang out of the way when the electric fire rains down on them from above and take the hit himself. He'd die but it's a damn sight better than letting it happen to his young friend instead.

Bucky feels remarkably clear headed, all things considered, as he leaps off the table, crushing some unfortunate rats underneath his boots before moving to sprint towards Aang. The air smells of burnt ozone even before the lightning comes down, making the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand up on end.

He realises with dawning horror that he's not going to make it.

Aang sincerely hopes the technique Zuko showed him all those months ago works. Dying by lightning can’t be fun. Bucky would never let him hear the end of it.

The sky is opening up. He straightens out his posture, holding his hand up, sticking out two fingers to catch the lightning. Through the fingers, down the arms, into the stomach, and back up the other arm. Piece of cake. Hopefully.

Nothing could prepare him for when the lightning hits. All at once, it’s like someone set his blood on fire, and it’s spreading. His knees want to buckle, his body wants to convulse, but he doesn’t allow it too. His face screws up in pain as he bites down and tucks his elbows in, leading the clash of energy into his stomach, mixing up with his own chi until it feels like his heart is beating nothing but light through his veins, and then up through his other arm. With a deafening crash, lightning exits his fingers and illuminates the sky as it strikes at clouds.

And then it’s gone, and he falls to his knees, steam rolling off his body wherever raindrops hit.

“I’m okay!” He sounds like he might pass out, but he’s okay. Anticipating Bucky’s concern, he’s already trying to get to his feet again, his knees shaky and muscles weak from the two enormous feats of bending he’d just performed.

Bucky keeps running forwards regardless, like some kind of suicidal fool, or someone fighting against the inevitable.

Lightning courses down from the sky, striking Aang despite his furious and dismayed shout, and -- Bucky's sliding to a halt, eyes widening in awe at something that takes place through a matter of seconds but seems to last an eternity. Aang bends the lightning. That is what it is, another miracle of bending, allowing him to survive what would kill anyone else.

"Kid..." then he's in motion again, slamming forwards despite the reassurance to grab Aang up in a surprisingly gentle hold. It's an embrace as much as it's a rescue from the muddy ground and maybe the first Bucky has ever initiated between them alone. He lifts the boy up like he weighs nothing and holds him tight to his chest.

If Aang had any doubts about Bucky’s protective concern before, he doesn’t now. Bucky’s never initiated a hug with him before. Never. Not that Aang is going to complain about this, mind.

“I’m okay,” he mumbles softly as he rests his head on Bucky’s chest, draping one arm around the man’s broad shoulder to cling weakly. The smell of ozone is stuck in his nose, and it feels like his blood is still vibrating from all the energy. It’s worth it, though, because the lightning would have killed Bucky, and he can’t let that happen. “I told you I’d be okay, didn’t I?”

He wants to go to sleep now that it’s over, but there’s an unnatural stillness in the air, and he can’t help but wonder if the Gamemakers are going to throw something else at them. He looks up at Bucky, unwilling to really jump away from the embrace unless he absolutely has to. “How’s your head?”

"Don't do that again!" he mutters, keeping hold of Aang as he sinks down onto the muddy ground and ignores the uncomfortable wetness soaking into his trousers. Filth and the arena's go hand in hand. "You sure you're not hurt?"

Aang just channelled lightning and Bucky still can't quite bring himself to believe he managed it without having a mark left on him. It should be impossible, he thinks dazedly, but then Bucky's been facing impossible ever since Steve gained almost a foot in height and about an extra hundred pounds of muscle. Can't forget the guy who peeled his face off that day either.

Can't forget...

Bucky blinks, then carefully peels one hand off Aang to press it against the contours of his own skull. "I..." his eyes are wide, "Better. It feels... better?"

Aang has some minor first degree burns on his fingers, but he doesn't really consider that an injury. "I'm sure. I'm shocked that I got it right the first time. Get it? Shocked?"

He lets out a burst of sleepy giggles, like he's chatting with a friend at a slumber party instead of right on the heels of a lightning strike. Aang's face almost splits open with the grin he give Bucky before nuzzling his head under the man's chin. "Then it was worth it."

And he will absolutely end up doing that again at some point, but at least he'll have the grace to not say that right now while he can still hear Bucky's heart thundering in his chest from the adrenaline crash.

Bucky snorts, shaking his head in mild disapproval. Mostly he's amused, though he tries to hide it. "We'll you're well enough to make puns, so that's something."

It's clear the attempt has exhausted Aang though, and Bucky's feeling on the tired side himself, so he doesn't even ask before hauling himself to his feet with the kid still clasped in his arms. He starts to make for the doorway of the castle, intending to get them both to the parts of it that the Avengers have claimed for their own. It should be safe for Aang to rest there.

"... thank you, Aang."

"Mmm hmm. See? I'm okay."

How long has it been since he's been carried around? A long, long time, he's sure. Possibly over a hundred years. He's not going to complain about this at all.

"No problem." If it helped, then it was more than worth it. All Aang wants to do is somehow repay Bucky's kindness in kind, and maybe make life a little easier for a man who didn't deserve any of the misfortune that had been piled onto him. Aang closes his eyes, relaxing like a baby as Bucky walks into the castle... and then they are immediately swarmed with bats.

Aang feels a sharp pain in the arm dangling over Bucky's shoulder and spits out a curse (that is not age-appropriate and which he probably learned from one of the Avengers) before swatting at at the swarm, hiding his face to avoid it getting attacked.

It's okay, Aang, he'll forgive for the swear; especially considering the one that comes out of Bucky's mouth when he realises what's happening.

Bucky pulls Aang even more tightly to his chest, curling himself down and over the boy in his arms as he breaks into a run down the narrow stone corridor with the bats shrieking and flapping through the air behind them. There's blood flowing down his face from where one of the creatures bit him and wings beating at his head the whole way.

They need to find a door and get it between them and the bats quickly.

Now, the cradling has suddenly become inconvenient. Aang can't run and find a door or divert the bats. He doesn't think he can struggle free of Bucky in a timely fashion, so he instead takes advantage of the convenient shield Bucky's chest makes and hides half his face in it, keeping one eye out. His arm is burning and he can feel blood dripping down it onto Bucky's back while the bats swarm, but that's not important while--

"There!"

Aang points at a door down the hall, one that he knows leads to a room kept too bright for bats to stay in comfortably, but he quickly withdraws his hand when the bats try to attack it.

Bucky's not interested in letting Aang down, not when he see's it as opening the kid up to the possibility of more bites without him there to shield him. He keeps running, trying to see through the blood running into his eye where he's going before Aang takes charge and tells him where to go.

There's no hesitation, Bucky follows through Aang's order and makes for the door, shifting him into a one-handed hold so he can pull it open and carry them through. Maybe he slams the door a little harder than necessary but they make it to the other side with only a few of the creatures in there with them.

Now he puts Aang down, only so he can lunge upwards with his hand to try and kill those that remain.

Aang doesn't bother with checking himself for injuries when he's set down. Instead, he springs to his feet, galled by the sight of blood on Bucky's face, and his first instinct is to bend the air to blow all the remaining bats away. As he pulls his hands back, he hesitates. His power is what lured the bats here in the first place. If Bucky weren't busy with the bats, he'd probably scold Aang for considering it.

So he redirects his energy. He isn't the type to kill, not even vampire bats, but he can hurt them. He throws open the windows, letting in sunlight that stuns some of the creatures into trying to hide, before he rips off one of the curtains and uses that to catch bats and throw them outside into the rain and day. His arm is still burning, and he absently notes that it seems to have been torn open, but he doesn't process that for now. Now, he just needs to get the bats out.

Metal fingers close around frail furry bodies and he doesn't have to use anything greater than normal human strength to crush the life out of them. Their bones break easily and he's killed three of them by the time Aang has gotten rid of the rest.

They're gone and he sags back against the wall, taking a moment to breathe even though he's barely winded by the run. Bucky tries to wipe the blood out of his eyes before refocusing on Aang, approaching him to try and see the damage the kid had sustained. "Are you okay?"

"I'm--"

He's about to say he's okay, but he's leaning against the window sill and looking himself over and he only just notices exactly how bad his arm is hurting him. It's covered in blood, and a wide strip of flesh is hanging off. He winces, instinctively moving to cover it and try to press the strip back in place with his unhurt hand.

"Just this. I'm okay except this."

It's burning and the tips of his fingers feel numb. He should probably see someone about that.

"Jesus, kid."

Bucky swallows, ignoring his own wounds as he comes over. They'll heal just fine by themselves, the bleeding is already slowing. The gashes will scab over in hours, and in a day or two they'll close up completely. It's Aang he's worried about.

He pulled off the cloak of his costume soon after the start of the arena, but saved a lot of the fabric for this reason. "Sit down." Bucky commands, putting a hand to Aang's elbow. "I'll do what I can."

Aang sits down obediently on the edge of a bed, holding out his bleeding arm. "It doesn't hurt that much," he says quietly, an attempt to make the worried look in Bucky's eyes go away. He's never liked being fussed over because it makes him feel guilty to see how upset he makes his caretakers when he's really hurt or sick.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

The remains of what's left of our past, of a future yet to come

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