Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 7

"Someone will have already called the police. You're running from something." His face closed off for a moment before he understood what she was saying, "I know you are. Go. Get inside." He glanced back in the direction of the sirens once last time before taking a firm hold of her shoulders.

"Iris, I—you don't have to—" She shook her head, pushing at him again, not that she managed to shift his bulk in the slightest. Nevertheless, he got her point, taking a small step toward the front door.

"I'll be fine. They'll just want a statement. Besides, I know that car. They weren't after you." More emotions than she could categorize flashed across his face before one of doubt laced with hope settled over his features. He wanted to believe her.

Iris' expression darkened, her own anger beginning to thread through her voice, "One of Chris—or whatever his name was—Chris' friends used to park it outside all the time when he still lived here. You don't have to get involved." He looked like he was about to object again but Iris shushed him, glancing toward the end of the street where the first cop car was just about to turn the corner. She tugged his jacket from around her shoulders in an uncoordinated rush and shoved it into his hands. "You can't show up on a police report if you want to stay hidden, James, not even as a witness. You can't. Go!" With a final apologetic look he obeyed, slipping in through the front door as Iris turned to watch the appearance of a convoy of police cars.

All things considered, things were handled thankfully quickly. Police flooded the neighbourhood, questioning witnesses—Iris included—cordoning off the area where bullets had sprayed the fronts of four different houses and taking pictures. Since the front façade of Iris' house had taken the brunt of the assault, she was lucky enough to have two officers talking to her at first. She gave her version of the event, fighting not to glance toward the window that she suspected James was watching anxiously from too often, lest one of the cops get the impression she was hiding something. She told them she'd managed to duck down fast enough that none of the bullets had hit her and that she recognized the car the shooter had been driving. She also admitted that she had kicked out the man who she suspected was behind the shooting, telling the detective everything she knew about Chris, his activities and the variety of sketchy friends he often had over when he'd still been a tenant.

She also found out from the detective that they already had a very drugged out Chris—which evidently was his actual name—in custody along with his equally high accomplice. Apparently they'd all but driven right into the line of approaching police cars. Iris couldn't hide her satisfaction at that, earning a hearty chuckle from the older detective taking her statement.

As he put the finishing touches on his report, Iris weighed whether or not to ask the question that was on her mind.

"What are the chances that I'm going to have to testify," she finally asked as the detective, eying the two other officers still interviewing her some of her neighbours, "I mean, I will if I have to, but I'd really rather not." She wasn't terribly interested in the idea of perjuring herself in court; as that thought crossed her mind she realized she would if she had to, if it meant protecting James. If that wasn't a sobering thought...

The detective glanced up at her from tucking his notebook away, an amused yet sympathetic look on his face as he gave her a quick once over. She suspected she knew what he saw; she knew she was trembling again. It was more from her fading adrenaline and the cool evening air than fear, but the cop seemed to interpret it otherwise. She was okay with that. He smiled kindly at her before glancing around at his comrades, many of whom were beginning to pack up.

"I can't imagine you'll have to. No one was hurt and we've got more than enough on him and his pal from the car alone for multiple charges, and not just for the drive-by or the intoxication. Add to that the bullets we're pulling from the buildings—it's pretty open and shut. Nah, he won't be getting off easy, that's for sure. No promises, of course, it's up to the lawyers and the judge, but I imagine your statement will do." Fighting back a relieved sigh, she thanked him as the officer bid her goodnight and left her at the bottom of the steps, reminding her to use the back door for the next couple days until they could finish up with processing the scene.

As soon as the cars began pulling away, Iris was dashing around through the skinny alley between her house and the next batch to the back and all but running up the stairs of the fire escape. After a moment of fumbling with the lock on the door she was inside. It was then that it hit her again. She'd been shot at. Her legs beginning to renew their trembling, she fell back against the door she'd just shut. Her bag fell with a dull thud to the floor as her head likewise fell into her hands, a new wave of tears and shakes threatening to overwhelm her.

And then his arms were around her again—James having abandoned his watch at out the front window the instant she'd darted around the side of the house—his real hand burying itself in her hair as he pulled her tight against him. In moments he had her sitting curled into his side on her couch, letting the residual shudders from the stress of the evening run their course. Eventually the tremors eased and Iris was able to get herself back under control. She looked up at James, who, while still holding her close, was staring off into the distance again, his face unreadable.

"Thank you," she finally managed to murmur, drawing him back from wherever he'd disappeared to. "For saving me." The tugging at the corner of his mouth reappeared, though there was still a tightness around his eyes. After a moment he nodded, leaning down briefly to brush his cheek against the crown of her head. It felt almost like there'd been a fleeting kiss there too.

"I had to."

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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