Bucky Barnes One Shots

21. This is War

"We got separated. . .Bucky was on the motorcycle, Black Panther was chasing him, and I was behind them. I thought maybe he lost him and figured he would've came back here." Steve clenched his jaw, worry setting in.

"Well, he didn't." You pushed past him and headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Steve turned, "You have no idea where he is."

"I'm not going out looking for Bucky, I'm going to find Stark." You said firmly, descending the stairs quickly as Steve followed behind you.

It wasn't your place to protect Bucky, but something told you that Stark had him.

"You can't go to Stark, (Y/N). This is war." Steve called after you, causing you to stop at the bottom of the stairs.

You turned to face him, "We were once a team, Rogers. Do you remember that?"

And with that, you left.

•••

"Tony," you nodded in the man's direction, his lips pursing at the sight of you.

"(Y/N)." Tony leaned back in his chair, keeping his eye on you as he poured a drink. "Care for a drink?"

"No. You know why I'm here, right?" You stood at the end of the table, watching him.

"You always were the peace keeper." Tony sipped from his glass.

"It doesn't have to be this way, Tony. We don't have to fight."

"That's what I said, but Rogers chose the wrong side. And for what? For that part-man, part-metal monster?" He rolled his eyes as you walked quickly over to him, smacking the wine out of his hand, glass shards flying across the floor.

"Well, that wasn't very nice." Tony stood up, brushing pieces glass off of his clothes.

"Where is he?" You asked, taking another step towards him.

"I don't know what you're implying, but—"

"I'm not implying anything, Stark. I know he's here. And I'm not leaving without him." You breathed out, trying to prevent yourself from slamming your fist into his nose.

"(Y/N)," Natasha entered the room, raising an eyebrow.

You hadn't spoken to her since she's joined Tony's side and now you didn't know what to say.

"What's going on here?" She asked, examining the glass on the floor.

"I know Bucky's here." You repeated, taking a step back from Tony.

Natasha shook her head, "He's not—"

"Oops, sorry to keep you out of the loop Romanoff, but actually he is here." Tony said, walking towards the door, admitting the truth. "Now, I hate to be rude, (Y/N)," he turned back towards you, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Natasha rose a finger to speak, "Why, Stark? Why'd you bring him here?"

"Oh, I didn't bring him here." Tony stated blankly as a man clad in a black suit came through the doorway, standing beside Tony. "He did."

"Black Panther," you felt chills run down your spine.

He nodded eerily as Tony stepped backwards through the doorway. "Take care of her, will you? She's very important."

Natasha shook her head, stepping in front of you, "Tony," she started, but was immediately cut off.

"We're on the same side, Natasha. Aren't we?" Tony glared at her, doubting her alliance.

"I-I don't know anymore." Natasha swallowed, glancing at you.

You'd never seen her like this—so thrown off guard. She was always in control, but now she seemed so unsure of where she stood. You wanted to tell her it was alright, and that it wasn't too late for her to switch sides, but by the looks of it. . .neither of you would be going back to D.C. tonight.

Tony looked somewhat offended and hurt by her words, but he immediately put his cold front up and exited the room, shutting the door and leaving you and Natasha alone with the mysterious, cat-suited man.

Natasha looked between the two of you, your worried expression verses Black Panther's blank expression. His mask covered his whole face, his eyes nothing but white, emotionless slits.

"T'Challa," Natasha kept her distance, her hand resting on the gun in her waist holster.

Before anything more could happen, a metal arm slammed through the glass window of the door—Bucky.

His hand reached through in a flash, ripping the door handle off of the door and he kicked it in. The door flew across the room and both you and Natasha had to duck in order to keep your heads on your shoulders.

Black Panther, however, was already swinging at Bucky, his claws snagging ripping Bucky's sleeve. Bucky hit him upside the face with his metal fist, nearly cracking the man's mask.

Natasha stood idle, unsure of who it was she should be fighting right now—Black Panther, Bucky. . .she turned around. . .you.

"Natasha, wait," you didn't want to fight her; you used to be teammates—you used to be friends.

"This Act needs to happen, (Y/N)," Natasha frowned, clearly not wanting to fight you either.

"This isn't about the Act anymore, Nat! This is about him—about Bucky, and you know that." You were finally putting the pieces together.

Natasha looked over at the two men fighting, her gaze then lowering to the floor.

Bucky barely escaped losing an eye to one of Panther's claws and Bucky got a good grip on him, throwing him towards the glass wall that also acted as a window.

In the blink of an eye, everything went south—literally. Panther had snatched you up in one arm, his claws tearing into the material of your jacket and just as your feet left the ground, the two of you broke through the glass and began falling.

"(Y/N)!" Natasha yelled out as Bucky rushed over to the window.

She looked over at Bucky who was now jumping out, too, not even hesitating to go after you.

You could feel Panther's claws digging into your skin, your eyes looking up at the window as Bucky's figure jumped from the window. . .

And then it all went black.

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