the escapees || bucky barnes

VII: oh, that's awkward

Needless to say, Peter loved the movie.

He was so into it, at one point he screamed at the TV, "Kill him, Veronica!"

It was hilarious. I'd missed this kind of stuff when I was on missions. Something that I wouldn't even be able to do anymore. The fact that I was stuck inside made me feel like I'd lost a part of myself. I couldn't fight, I couldn't save any fucking people, and the worst part was that it was the fault of my past. A small, stupid little chip HYDRA had implanted in my brain. You'd think something so tiny wouldn't be able to hurt anything, but of course, with HYDRA, you had to expect the unexpected.

This was definitely the unexpected.

At about 11:00, the movie finished, and I found Peter sound asleep on my shoulder. He looked so cute, and I didn't want to disturb him, but I couldn't just leave him here. I knew that I wouldn't be staying in my room, and he had a place in the compound that he slept in occasionally. I considered calling Tony, but then Peter would've gotten in trouble, and that was the last thing I wanted to do to the poor boy. I went through my options in my head, finally settling on Steve. He was pretty trustworthy, and there was no way he'd really speak to Tony at all after the whole mission fiasco.

I picked up my phone, not wanting to wake anyone else in the apartments near me. Dialing Steve's number, I stared at the sleeping figure on my couch, his soft snores filling the silence.

"This is Steve Rogers," Steve answered.

"Hey, Capsicle," I rolled my eyes at his version of hello. "Could you come to my apartment? I need some help transporting something."

"That's pretty vague, Charlie. But I'll be there in a few minutes. Goodbye," He hung up.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket, sitting down next to Peter. He was shivering slightly, so I grabbed my Washington Capitals blanket and threw it over him. In seconds, his shivering stopped, and he curled his fingers around the edge of the blanket. He would hate that I was putting some of the Caps merchandise on him, (Ugh, he's a Rangers fan) but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A knock sounded at my door, and I walked over to go get it. Surprise, surprise, it was one Captain America, looking groggy, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stepped into my apartment, pushing a hand through his messy hair.

"What'd you need help with, Char?" He asked, blinking more than usual, most likely to stay awake.

"Oh, I need to move a body," I pointed to Peter, who had stuffed his face into the back of my couch.

Steve's eyes went wide. "Did you commit murder again? What did Tony tell you about killing people in the compound?"

"Not that kind of body, dummy. Peter passed out on my couch after watching a movie. I just need your help to get him to his room," I rolled my eyes, beckoning for him to come over to the living room. "You lift him onto your back, and carry him back to his room. I'll open doors and stuff. But first..."

I grinned, taking my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket. I turned on the camera, snapping a picture of Peter in the Caps blanket.

When Steve gave me a confused look, I said, "I'm using this as blackmail. I have some on everyone in the compound. You, sir," I pat him on the chest. "Are very scandalous."

Steve took a deep breath, then picked Peter up from the couch. He started walking out of my apartment, Peter's arms slung around his neck. It was a very funny sight to see; the infamous man out of time helping an ex-assassin carry a teenager back to his bedroom.