Chapter Text
“‘Lena, the tv is broken again! ‘Lena?” “I ‘fixed’ it like, two minutes ago Dad! You have to stop pushing random buttons.” This specific conversation had been yelled back and forth multiple times already and at this point Bucky was ready to leave the room.
He had come into the common area of the Watchtower because he didn’t have anything better to do and didn’t feel like being alone. Though the constant back and forth of Alexei hollering to Yelena was grating against Bucky’s already thin nerves and if neither of them shut up soon he’d snatch the damn remote out of the other man’s grip and fix it himself.
For some reason the additional buttons were truly baffling Alexei since apparently he only understood the severely outdated tv from his old place in DC. He also refused to just ignore the new options meaning he constantly ‘broke’ something before yelling for someone - most of the time Yelena - to fix it. Yelena was so used to it, she didn’t even bother walking the short distance into the room this time, instead choosing to shout from the island counter she was sitting at.
Bucky was considering finding a different teammate to sit with, weighing his options. As far as he knew, he had to choose between this or Walker who was working out in the training room. Bob was with Yelena and Ava in the kitchen, Bucky could hear quiet talking and the sound of metal cutlery clinking softly so he assumed someone - probably Bob - was cooking. Bob had taken to practicing random online recipes to have something to do when the team went on missions. He would insist on washing everyone else’s dishes along with his own afterwards. Bucky privately suspected that Bob needed a job to validate his place on the team - not that he needed to of course, Bob was the only member that thought he didn’t deserve to be here.
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“What are you making this time?” Yelena asked, not looking up from where she was painting Ava’s nails.
“Why? My suit has gloves, nobody would see them.”, she had questioned when Yelena mentioned it as they went through isles, wasting Valentina’s money on a shopping trip. “It’s not about other people, it’s for you . I get it, in the Red Room I never had anything for myself, I mean the first time I ever bought myself anything was a vest. Cutting my hair, wearing my eyeliner, customising the vest - sooo many pockets by the way, so useful - its control. We finally have control over ourselves, Ava. That means I’m painting my nails and so are you, if you want to.” Neither of them had mentioned the glossiness of Ava’s eyes and instead picked out two bottles of nail polish from a nearby shelf, one blue and one red.
“I found a mug cake recipe the other day, it looks easy enough so I’m trying it. Did you want some? Sorry, I should’ve asked..”, muttering the last part, Bob turned to face the two women before looking at his shoes anxiously.
“Hey hey, it’s fine. Make me one too, Chef Bob” Yelena was quick to reply upon noticing his discomfort, trying to lighten his mood. “I’ll pass. Thanks though, Bob.” Ava added.
“We should paint your nails too!” Yelena gleefully pointed the brush at Bob, careful not to drip red paint on the marble counter. “..um, yeah, maybe. Do you, uh, have.. green..?” Truthfully, green wasn’t Bob’s favourite but the only other colours he could think of were yellow (“ you don’t know what I am. maybe I need to show you.” ) and black ( “you can’t even save yourself.” )… so green it is.
“We can get some”, Ava spoke between breaths as she gently blew on her nails to dry them faster. Yelena had moved onto her left hand and Bob could see her nod in agreement when he shifted to the side, putting their mugs into the shared microwave.
Holding his spoon between his teeth, Bob tasted the chocolate coating his tongue as he mentally counted the seconds until he had to extract the cake.
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After a few moments of silence, Ava briefly glanced to where Bob was standing. His face was blank other than a minor scrunch of his nose and he was just staring at the microwave. Weird.
“Bob?” Ava’s curiosity shifted to concern when he didn’t respond and she lightly kicked Yelena’s leg. “What-“ “Bob, you okay?” she asked again, cutting off Yelena’s offended exclamation.
Sharing a look of concern, the duo stood up and walked around the island towards their teammate.
His left hand was twitching slightly and his teeth were clenched around a spoon. His entire body was taut and trembling. Most concerning though was the gold rippling across his irises. Shit. What happened?
Ava discreetly reached for her phone, sending the team groupchat an SOS. Not that she needed to, she doubted Bob would notice if she disappeared and reappeared right infront of him in this state. During the seconds it took her to do this, Yelena had moved forward. Reaching in Bob’s direction but not touching. Everyone had learned very quickly after moving in, don’t touch Bob without warning. Walker had patted his arm as he walked past one day and the way Bob had flinched was enough to make everyone avoid repeating it. Nobody had brought it up but they all respected the unspoken rule.
Ava heard the men before she saw them, not wanting to look away from Bob and Yelena. Alexei and Bucky pushed into the room, Walker following closely behind and breathing heavily as if he’d sprinted from the lower floor.
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Something’s wrong. Bob doesn’t know how he got here. He blinked and suddenly he’s not in the kitchen but instead on a street corner. “Yelena..? Ava?” His voice is muffled. Why does he sound like that? Reaching up to feel at his mouth only blooms more confusion. Why the fuck is his face soft . Not blanket soft though, it’s more like… It’s more like the time he worked as a sign holder. Bob doesn’t even remember most of that job, meth use blotting out the memories. What he does remember, is the suit. That shitty chicken mascot costume that always reeked of sweat and rotten eggs. Just thinking about it was enough to make Bob gag. He threw up in the suit once - drunk out of his mind. After multiple warnings his boss had finally reached the breaking point and made him clean it before firing him. The world is spinning and Bob can’t tell if it’s related to the sign he’s apparently holding or if he’s just lost his mind for real this time.
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“Bobby you need to snap out of whatever this is-” “Do you really think calling him that is going to calm him down, Walker?” Yelena hissed over the man’s attempt to reach Bob. “Do you have a better idea?! Fucking look at him!”
Bucky ignored both of them and warily watched Bob(?) blink rapidly, swaying uneasily on the spot. It made him think of when he first met Bob, Sentry at the time. He had blinked a lot then too, as if he wasn’t fully awake and aware.
“He is going to pass out.” Alexei observed, his heavily accented voice adding to the room’s tension. His statement was punctuated by metal clattering as the spoon fell from Bob’s opened lips. His face slackening as his body crumpled to the floor, seemingly unconscious.
Walker lunged to catch him, Yelena and Bucky flinching forward similarly. Ava raised her eyebrows at Alexei in a silent question. “What? I know drunk people.” “Bob isn’t drunk.” “‘S close enough, no?” he shot back, shrugging in a rough attempt to mask his concern.
The microwave beeping caught everyone off guard and they instinctively jolted to look at it. The air surrounding it was thick and through the small window the cakes looked burnt. As if the tension in Bob had infected his food.
When everyone shifted their focus back to the man in question they took a sharp inhale. His eyes were open and darting around the room. Looking up from his position held in Walker’s lap and half on the tiled flooring. His view was hazy and his pupils dilated, hell maybe he was somehow drunk.
Bob (his eyes are still kind of gold actually, should they call him Sentry now?) squinted up at Walker. “Heyyy.. wh…who ‘re you..? Haha..” Before anyone could consider the implications of that particular question, he passed out again.