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Adrian dropped to the floor loudly, completely knocked out, and you panted as you locked eyes with Bucky. Before addressing him, you grabbed Adrian's arm and dragged him to the side, picking up some spare cable ties that were on the floor, and starting to tie his wrists and ankles together, before securing him to the table leg against the wall.

Then you walked over to Bucky, and knelt in front of him, looking up. He had an expression behind his eyes that you couldn't place, but you knew it made you nervous. His focus was lasered in on the specks of blood dotted over your face, the red patch on your jaw that told him someone had hit you there.

The gun you were holding in your hands was placed on the floor between the two of you. Reaching behind you, you grabbed the knife you had in your waistband that you had picked up on the way in, and set about cutting the ties off his wrists.

"You shouldn't have come here." You whispered, moving down to his ankles. Bucky said nothing as he watched you cut through the ties and stand up. He stood up slowly, almost towering over you and commanding all the air in the room. You kept your eyes locked on his as you felt his hand brush yours, guiding the knife out of your hand.

"Why did you come here?" You asked, after a few silent seconds stretched out. He held your knife up.

"These are dangerous."

"Not as dangerous as a machine gun." You retorted, and you think you spotted the twitch of a smile on his lips, the memory of your shooting practice flooding both of your minds. It must have reminded him as well, because he reached his hand to your face, and gently wiped some flecks of blood away from below your eye.

The memory was short lived, however, knowing you had so much more to say to him. "Buck-"

"I would have killed him." He interrupted, walking over to Adrian, rummaging through his pockets for his keys, gun and phone, stowing them away in his jacket pocket along with your knife that he was still holding. You bent down and picked up your gun.

When he turned back to you, you tried again to open your mouth, but he marched straight past you, finding Steve, Sam, Clint and Danvers waiting outside.

"Ready when you are boss." Clint smiled gleefully, cocking the gun proudly in his hand he had used to help rescue Steve.

"How many left?" Bucky asked as you walked up behind him and watched weapons being passed between them until Bucky finally sighed, one of his own guns safely back in his hands.

"Not many. Me and Luka got most of them when we came in." Danvers smirked, glancing at you. "I'm surprised you kept her away from all this. She's a natural." You felt a sense of pride in your chest, but it was also peppered with a mixture of guilt and resentment.

"There are still four rooms unaccounted for. We also haven't seen Stark yet." Steve replied, making your ears perk up.

"No one touches Stark." You said loudly. While the others looked at you weirdly, Bucky made no indication that he heard you.

"Take one room each. Leave no one alive. I'm going to find his office." Bucky said robotically, a signal for the others to walk away. Bucky headed left.

A second later you started hearing gunshots from the other rooms, and raced to catch up with Bucky.

"Do you know where you're going?" You called after him as you struggled to meet his pace. No response. "Or are you just going to ignore me?"

Bucky opened a door on his left and looked in, before shutting it again, his gun raised high, ready for action. He was stepping over the littered bodies on the floor that you and Danvers had taken care of on your way in. You figured he would have commented on it, but he never did. He didn't speak at all.

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