|1| Promise Me ✦ {Bucky Barnes}

Chapter 1: Ocean Eyes

That same day, Fury had been shot. All I knew was that I had gotten a call from Natasha to get to the hospital because they didn't know if Fury was going to make it. Even though I technically wasn't allowed to drive, I did anyway to get down there. It wasn't like it was my right leg that was injured, and my car wasn't a standard. I had arrived there quickly, and stood in the window to the operating room was Steve, Nat and Maria Hill, another SHIELD agent. I remembered what Fury said to me as I walked up to them, careful of my words.

"What happened?" I asked Steve.

"He was shot. The shooter was fast, and strong- had a metal arm," Steve's reply was grim, almost determined to find the man who killed him. As was I.

"What about ballistics?" Nat inquired, getting an idea of who the shooter was in her head.

"Three slugs, no rifling, completely untraceable," Maria replied.

"Soviet-made," Nat and I added at the same time. Both of us knew exactly who it was that had done this, but no one would believe us. The man was a ghost story. Then again, so was I. I watched as Fury's state began to worsen. Nat and I watched with a stoic look on our faces on the outside and praying we wouldn't lose him on the inside. But moments later, we witnessed the Doct record the time of death for Nick Fury. I left immediately, going to a dark room, hoping a certain someone would follow me there. Just as I had hoped, Steve did exactly what I wanted.

"What do you know?" He asked me.

"That SHIELD's been compromised, that's about it. Nick told me to get out of D.C," I replied.

"You should, there's no way you can't fight your way out of this one with a leg like that," Steve told her.

"The limp will be gone by tomorrow, SHIELD gave me way too much time off," I argued, "I can help-"

"No, Maddie,"

"Even if you won't let me help you, the problem is I have nowhere to go. All of our addresses are listed in SHIELD's database. If I just stop signing into work every day, they'll know I know something and go after me,"

"I know a guy you can stay with until all of this blows over. He's not with SHIELD," he began to dial the man's contact on his phone, but I stopped him.

"Don't use your phone, they're probably tracing it," I handed him an old, beat-up flip phone, one that I had bought as a burner, just in case I needed to make a call without it being traced, "use this," Steve took the phone and dialled the man's number.

The next morning, I was being driven by Steve to one of the suburbs of D.C. It wasn't far from the hospital, but the place was inconspicuous. The place he had pulled up to just looked like a house to me. Steve parked the car and went up to the door, knocking on it. A tall, dark-skinned man opened the door, but I had recognized him from somewhere, and I couldn't quite place where. I just hoped he didn't recognize me.

"You said you needed my help?" He asked Steve, cocking a brow at the sight of me. Steve nodded, and he let us in. He shut and locked the door behind us, before returning to his kitchen where he continued to fix himself breakfast, "wanna tell me what's going on?"

"This is Briar, a good friend of mine," Steve had introduced me to him.

"Sam Wilson," he stuck his hand out for me to shake. I did my best in remaining calm as I took his hand and shook it.

"We're under the impression that SHIELD isn't safe for me, and they have my address listed in their database," I explained as bluntly as I could without revealing too much information.

"So you're saying you need a place to crash?" He put the pieces together.

"If that wouldn't be asking too much,"