Hattie's Boys [Bucky Barnes/Avengers Fanfiction]

5

The moment the door closed behind the trio Conner collapsed against the wall, face shining with sweat and trembling. Hattie rushed to him, abandoning the mask of cool composure and flirtation.

"Fuck," she said, grabbing his shirt and steadying him. "Fuck, Conner, are you ok?"

She'd known the moment they began walking down the corridor that he was more injured than he'd let on. He'd gotten seriously hurt before in missions but—she'd seen the Winter Soldier's metal arm, more weapon than human, and the way he held himself. A killer.

Conner shook his head, his trembling beginning to lessen. "I'm fine. Really. Just—took a beater and didn't have a chance to breathe." He leaned his head back. "God I hate my job sometimes."

Hattie slowly let go of him, inspecting his face as he straightened. Her heart rate was high—too high. It had been years since she'd felt so...

So out of control.

"What the hell happened?" she said finally.

"I fucked up, you fucked up, we all fucked up," he said bluntly. "We have no info and now they're headed straight to Selby. My guess is she'll have our asses later."

Hattie closed her eyes, cursing quietly. She couldn't afford to be losing control as often as she did. Soon, Selby would notice—and then she'd really be fucked.

Rule number one of Selby's contract: become what you need to become to get the job done. No fear, no hesitation, no pain, no mercy.

A whisper of a memory, of a past long buried, wound its way into her head. She quickly opened her eyes.

Conner was staring at her, eyebrows crinkled. "You good?"

"I'm not the one with a bloody face," she said, forcing a small smile onto her face. She might've been swagger and smirks and witty remarks most of the time, but where a hurt Conner Vert was concerned, a different part of Harriet Reed showed up. A gentler part. A part she tried to push deep, deep down.

"Well, I didn't expect shit to get violent." He scowled. "Fucking Americans and fucking super soldiers."

"Hey—we're both American, you dumbass."

"And?"

There was the Conner she knew.

Hattie leaned forward and squeezed him into a swift, tight hug before letting go. "Don't scare me again, ok? We've had too many close calls recently. Remember three weeks ago, with that drug lord and his gang?"

He grinned. "I still can't believe you flirted our way out of decapitation."

Maybe she could've loved him—this other runaway who'd signed years away in exchange for a new life. Maybe she could learn to.

Hattie opened her mouth to reply, chest tight with emotion, before a crackle in their earpieces interrupted them.

"Vert, Reed, report." It was Selby, herself.

Fear slashed through the warmth in Hattie's chest like a knife.

Conner gave her a look that said, Stay calm, before raising a finger to his ear to respond. "Targets are headed to the Cellar as of two minutes ago. I'm injured, Reed's not. Waiting for instruction."

There was a pause. Hattie counted her heartbeats.

Even after working with Selby for three years, the woman still terrified her.

"Report to the Cellar," said Selby. "There's been a complication."

Silence.

Hattie and Conner stared at each other, brown eyes meeting blue. In the three years that they'd each been signed to Selby, Hattie to escape an old life and Conner out of necessity, neither had been ordered to the Cellar on a mission.