Sam had made good on his promise, pushing Bucky back to bed when the man just wouldn't listen to reason. He didn't want to take advantage of his weakened state to get the upper hand, but it didn't hurt that for the first time, he was in charge and carried the strength for the duo. There was a little guilt, sure, and Sam nearly burst into tears afterwards from the look that Bucky had given him; it was like there was a break in their trust, and Bucky wasn't sure who's side Sam was on.

"Goddammit, stop trying to force Jello down my throat."

"If you would just play along, this would be so much easier," Wade sighed, holding a spoonful carefully at Bucky's lips. "This is a part of being in the hospital. Orange, wibbly-wobbly goo to somehow make you believe that it's actually good because the shit food they have in this dump isn't fit for a dog. They give you this mass-produced stuff just so you can see that it's still sealed and has an expiration date," he paused, holding the cup up so that he could see the bottom, "um...woah! Jesus fuck this date is like ten years from now! What radioactive soylent green bullshit is this stuff made of?"

Bucky reached out to take the cup, his curiosity now piqued, but Wade quickly pulled his arm back to keep it out of his reach. "What? Now I want to try it."

"Oh, no, my sick baby boy, no Jello for you. Not until I know what's in this. You're compromised now and I can't risk poisoning you over something so...floopy."

"Floopy?"

"It's a word," Wade snickered, turning away to leave on his newest quest. "Alright, children, I'm off to the kitchen to get some answers. You lovebirds had better make up before I get back or this wiggly spunk is gonna be the least of your worries. I'll get the sugar free pudding and then you'll be sorry!"

Bucky and Sam exchanged a quick glance, meant to convey their regret in how this was all playing out, but instead, saw just how repulsed the other was by what their shared friend was offering. "Gross. Who the hell thought that was a good idea?" Bucky scoffed, his face contorted into disgusted expression. "Obviously someone good at getting people up and outta here, that's what I think."

"Well," Sam joined in, "I'm pretty sure there are more than a few diabetics in here, hon. I'm sure they appreciate having it."

"Great! Then they'll appreciate it even more if you keep all of that away from me, Wade, before I waste their precious snack by shoving it up your-"

"Good morning, Mr. Barnes," a nurse broke in at just the right time, freeing up Wade to leave on his Jello crusade and Sam to breathe a sigh of relief at his exit. "It looks like you're doing well this morning, up and moving already. I've got your paperwork here, so I bet you want to head home today?"

"How's about now?" he urged. He was already taking strides towards the closet where Sam had hurriedly thrown his clothes. "I can be outta your hair in five minutes."

"In a rush to get somewhere?" Sam asked, a skeptical eyebrow cocked as he watched Bucky dress. "The only place you're going is home."

Bucky hastily pushed one foot into his pants, hoping slightly as he pulled at them before pushing in the other. He lost his balance just a bit at that motion, but he raised out a hand fast enough to catch himself, and before Sam had a chance to stand to help. "No, Sam," he argued, now struggling with his belt, "We need to get to Steve and (Y/N). They probably need backup, so you and I can grab a jet-"

"Shit," Sam groaned under his breath, lowering his gaze to his feet in both embarrassment and shame, "I forgot to tell you, with all of this Jello bullshit going on. (Y/N) is in surgery from a gunshot wound that dropped her, and they think the serum is wearing off too so the repair is taking longer than it normally would. Steve and Tony are waiting for her up on fourth with Banner and Dr. Cho."

~~~

Steve did his best to rest on the infirmary cot, but he was now so unaccustomed to feeling ill that he didn't know how to act or behave, only knowing that he didn't like it and wanted it to go away as quickly as possible. He had tried to escape several times with no success, so he had quickly earned himself a babysitter under the doctor's orders.

"I haven't seen (Y/N) yet today, have you?"

"I saw her earlier," Nat replied blankly, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions and catch her in a lie. "Eat your jello, Steve."

"Okay, but she wasn't in the gym when we passed by. She's always there right before lunch."

"Maybe you just didn't see her," she groaned. "Eat your jello, Steve."

"Maybe you're hiding something from me."

"Fine," Natasha huffed, grabbing his spoon, "I'll tell you if you eat your damn jello."

He furrowed his brow and grabbed the spoon roughly, digging it into the wiggling goo with an inquisitive look on his face and the hint of disgust. "What flavor is this?"

"Green."

Steve shoveled the jello into his mouth so that it was gone quickly in order to get his answer about where you were. He didn't know what he'd do with the information once he had it anyway, but he felt calmer knowing you were nearby even if you hadn't been together in weeks. You had barely spoken more than a dozen words in that time, but to him, that didn't mean you weren't communicating on some level. "Ugh, there, it's gone," he grimaced, holding up the empty cup for her to see. "Now, where is she?"

"She went to England to visit your ex-girlfriend."

He began to choke slightly and coughed a few times into his napkin, pulling it away from his face to reveal a smile, sticking out his bright green tongue until she finally broke and laughed at him. "Yeah, that's a good one, Nat."

"Why did it have to be green?" Steve mumbled to himself, thoughtlessly taking a swipe of a spoon through the cup full of that same goo that Bucky had avoided, only Steve wasn't doing the same. He ate the snack willingly in his starvation, grimacing just slightly at the texture on his tongue. "Wow, this really is terrible. How could they think that anyone would want this when they're already sick enough?"

"I take a bullet for you, and you eat my Jello?" you whispered through the dry burning in your throat. When you turned to look at your husband, he had dropped the cup on the bedside table and left it to spill, freeing up his hands to hurry to your side and to gently hold your face and kiss you like he thought he would never have the chance again.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," he pleaded between connections, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry that I didn't listen."

"It's okay, Steve, I'm alright."

He pulled back and looked at you fully now, taking you in from head to toe as if to be sure that what you were saying was the truth. He trusted his own eyes before anyone else, but in this, he had to be completely sure that what he was seeing was real and not just imagined as what he wanted...or what he needed it to be. "Can I see?"

"Why?"

"I need to see how you're healing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah...I won't be able to focus until I know." He waited as patiently as he could while you turned your body very slowly, trying to avoid the pain of movement against the newly placed stitches in your back. Steve took a step closer and put a gentle hand on you to hold you steady, gingerly taking the edge of your gown and moving it aside for a better view. "I'll just pull an edge of the bandage so I don't mess it up," he said softly, almost only to himself. When he was able to get a view of the incision and work that the doctor had done, he lost his breath in shock and utter relief. "Honey...you're okay. You're healing...there's almost nothing here. Oh, thank god, you're still okay. I have to tell Tony, he's been a wreck."

"Steve, wait," you reached out, getting a firm grip on his hand, "what about you, are you alright? How do you feel? Has anything changed? What about Buck? Have you heard anything?"

"I can do you one better." Without any further explanation, Steve released your hand and walked towards the door to leave you watching, a little bit dumbfounded that he had gone from the room without considering the confusion he was leaving behind when you had just barely woken up and still had the haze of medication clouding your brain. You closed your eyes out of pure exhaustion of the last few hours of that your body had spent, succumbing to the few moments of relaxation that he had just gifted you with, leaving you with no idea of how long it had actually been when he returned. The sound of the door woke you enough to bring you to open your eyes, but when you did there was a familiar face mere inches from yours, as if examining you for even the slightest wrong.

"Jesus, Buck! Scare the hell outta me, why don't ya?"

"Sorry! I was just making sure you were okay!"

"By giving me a heart attack?" you gasped, pushing him away just a little. "I should've known that Dad would bring me here. It's a good thing that he donates so much to this place every year for how much time we spend in it."

~~~

That same morning, after what everyone would agree could have been the longest night ever, the kids who were home dragged themselves from bed on shaky legs and towards the kitchen. With the younger four at Xavier's for the past several years it was a rare treat to have so many of them home at the same time. Ant was still at the hospital, waiting for Esihle to meet him there, but it was probably for the best; as everyone filed into the room, it was clear that there was a serious lack of seats for everyone.

"Wow, Uncle Clint, how long after we left did you clear out the extras? Let the bodies get cold, seriously."

"Good morning to you, too, Will."

"Just saying," the boy smirked, "it's like you forgot how much you guys reproduced."

Allie snorted with an air of both humor and a little disgust at the attitude so early, but it didn't slow her at all in grabbing a place to sit while there was an open chair, taking a plate and raising it up expectantly in the air. "Hey, Dad, up high."

"Look sharp," Clint called back, not turning to see before he flipped a pancake into the air, landing it on her plate with perfectly expected accuracy.

"Thanks," she answered flatly, as if this were nothing more than a daily occurrence to her. She looked around the table, not finding what she wanted before moving her gaze around the room to still turn up nothing. "Do we not have enough forks for everyone either? Wow, Wills is right, you guys seem pretty eager to clear the place out."

"Watch it kid, I'm still your dad whether you're technically an adult or not. Top drawer by the fridge."

Allie simply smiled to herself, enjoying the playful banter within the group that she had missed while she had been working at Xavier's, and at the same time feeling thankful that she was now home again, this time to stay. She pushed her chair back to stand, but before she could the drawer her father pointed out opened on its own, with the utensils flying out and towards the group, leaving them all to duck for cover.

"Brooke?!"

"It's not me, Uncle Clint!"

"Becca?"

"She's not here!" Will called out from his own hiding place. "She was still upstairs when I came down here!"

"Someone is clearly interfering," Vision added, the only one left standing. He masterfully hurried to move, pulling utensils from the air before they could impale themselves into anything or anyone. His hands were filled with knives, forks, and spoons within seconds, stilling the chaos so that everyone else could come out from their hiding spots. "Is everyone alright?"

Nods of agreement filled the room as each of them stood and their nerves settled, looking back and forth to each other with a million unspoken questions in the air around them. Whatever it was that had just happened left them all confused, at least until the answer literally walked through the door. Becca strolled in as if it were any other morning and as if nothing had just been so terribly amiss only seconds before. To see her family staring at her as if she were the newest threat left her unnerved and scared, despite being surrounded by everyone who loved her.

"Guys," she began shakily, "what's going on?"

"Becs, are you feeling okay?" Will began, slowly approaching her. "We just had a crazy thing here-" he stopped, briefly disappearing from sight when a knife burst out of his father's grip and through him, into his cousin's hand. "Becs?"

"I didn't do that," she answered, her eyes wide in terror. "I didn't make it move. Uncle Viz, what's happening to me?"

"Remarkable. I do not know, my dear. But I assure you, we will figure it out." He tightened his grip on the remaining silverware in his hand when they began to shift again, but this time they didn't try to leave his hand; instead, the metal melted into a puddle at his feet that he had to step back to avoid. "Remarkable," he repeated, his eyes studying her again, his brain racing to put together options that he found to be more terrible with each passing thought. It brought them to a horrible stop when his own son echoed the path that his mind had tried to avoid following.

"Dad," Will whispered, "do you think this has something to do with what's happening to Steve and Bucky?"