After All We've Been Through (Steve x reader)

Going Solo

"James" The shaggy haired man eyes himself in the mirror "My name is James Barnes"

   The darkened room is empty but for him and the man's raspy voice echoes off the bare walls.

   "James Buchanan Barnes. Born in 1917. Best Friend of Steve Rogers." A pair of scissors snips gently along the curve of his skull. Scruffy brown hair falls to the ground in sheets.

   "Served in the 107th division in World War II. Lost arm in a mission with Captain America." The razor blade skims across the roughened features, exposing old scars and new scabs.

   James Barnes rubs his face gingerly "Buck, old boy, today is gonna be different."

   His favorite rifle leans against the wall, its barrel still shiny despite frequent use. James had never liked his Winter Soldier alter ego but he was a soldier, and soldiers follow orders.

   Not today. James hefts the gun with a smile and places it in the steel box under his bed.

   But just because the bigger gun wasn't needed, didn't mean he wouldn't be armed.

   Going anywhere without a firearm made him feel naked and venerable. Those few times he'd had to go without, he never seemed to feel safe.

   James pulls a glove over his metal hand, and flexes slightly. It was a good feeling: freedom, even if it was only for a short period of time.

   There's a knock on the door and he pulls it open wide "Been waiting for you for two months."

    The woman on the other side of the door snorts "You clean up real nice."

   James grins "Don't push it, Sharon"

   "You got the message?" The blond woman ties her hair back into a bun and tosses a folded envelope at him.

   "Obviously" James slides his finger under the flap "What's this?"

   "Now that the Winter Soldier is cleared of  crimes against the kingdom of Wakanda, Coulson wanted to be the first to design a new uniform."

   James holds up a sketch "He wants to hire me?"

   Sharon checks the loads in both her guns "No offense, but you don't have many options."

   "Do I have an option to refuse?" James frowns.

   "Sure you do" Sharon shrugs "But nothing with S.H.I.E.L.D is ever straight forward."

   The sketches go back into the envelope and  James hands them back.

   Sharon thrusts the envelope into a pocket on her jacket and takes a seat across from the dark haired man. "First things first, are you really gonna do this?"

   James makes an exasperated sound "You don't think I can go through with it?"

   Sharon shrugs "Are you sure Steve-"

   "I am my own person, Sharon" James snaps "Can we just get on with this?"

   "Fine" Sharon rolls her eyes "Here's the plan.."

- - - -

   "How is Steve?" James settles back in the passenger seat of the armored Hummer "I haven't heard anything from the team."

   Sharon's eyes never leave the road "They think you're under Hydra's control. Steve hasn't been heard from for about six months."

   James turns on her "What? What does that mean?"

   His sudden hostility surprises her.

   "Well there haven't been any sightings of him and Tony had a press conference when people started to ask."

   "What did he say?"

   "According to Tony, Steve has retired."

   James chews his lip "That doesn't sound like Steve at all."

   "Would that girlfriend of his change his mind?" Sharon gives James a sideways glance.

   "How do you know about Y/N?" James brow furrows.

   "Rule number one of getting into S.H.I.E.L.D, James Barnes: you have to be good."

   "Are they still paying you to stalk the guy?"

   Sharon's eyes flash "If they were, don't you think I'd know a bit more?"

   "Touché" James recoils.

   He notices Sharon's knuckles gripping the wheel are white and her face is slightly pink.

   Mucho touchy subject. Forgot she had a thing for Steve.

   "So what's the plan?"

   Sharon's voice is sharp "The plan is to follow me."

  "Why won't your bosses let me solo this one?"

   The blond woman looks at him with contempt "You barely got off the World's Most wanted list. Don't expect much."

James considers the source of her mood "Look, I have to ask-"

"I'm not telling you anything, James."