WARNINGS: domestic violence and domestic abuse (NOT from Bucky, never from Bucky).
MUSIC RECOMMENDATION: Choose your favorite Depressed! Taylor Swift song for this chapter. My personal favorites for this one are Death by a Thousand Cuts for our dear reader and All Too Well for our love Bucky.
"I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there is no relief in waking...Better not to give into it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."
~*~*~*~
S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 2018.
You sat slumped forward at the dining table, rubbing soothing circles on your temples. The only light in the darkness emanated from the dim computer screen in front of you. You weren't sure what time it was, but you estimated you had gotten about three hours of sleep before a nightmare woke you. You slipped out of bed without waking Wanda. That girl slept like the dead, and it was something you had come to appreciate over the past weeks since your team's mission in Tokyo.
Inevitably, your mind always wandered to that night.
Bucky stood by the bed, mulling over your words in silence. His gaze cast down to the floor, deep in thought. You braced yourself for his reply.
"Actions..." he mumbled to himself. After a moment, he looked up from the floor to you. "Then marry me."
You stood still, shocked into silence. Had you heard him right? Bucky looked at you expectantly. "What?" you murmured, finally finding your voice.
"Marry me, doll," Bucky said. "I love you more than anything. Allow me to show you how much." He closed the distance between the two of you, taking your hands in his. "You and me...we can have the life we always talked about...build a house somewhere peaceful...here or back in the States, Brooklyn or Colorado...wherever you want...we can make that baby...Have a family of our own." His hopeful eyes met yours with a warm smile, "Marry me, Y/N."
Tears welled in your eyes and your throat closed. For a moment, you were ecstatic, incandescently happy at the idea of building a peaceful normal life with James as his wife. The ultimate gesture of commitment. The ultimate promise that he would never leave again.
Then it came crashing down.
But to live that life, you would have to give up the team. Give up the fight. Could you do that? And marriage was no guarantee that he wouldn't leave again. You had seen it happen to many of your friends' parents growing up. Hell, your own grandmother left your grandfather, unable to deal with his PTSD after his time in the military. Leaving him to raise your father alone. Marriage was a partnership. Spouses were equals. They made decisions together. No one ever acted alone. Something both he and you had done in the past.
Bucky searched your face, awaiting your answer. Fear gripped your psyche in its clutches. Fear of abandonment. Fear of being left alone. His prior broken promise had shattered your trust in him. Tears escaped the corners of your eyes as you stepped back. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to tell him no. You had promised him that you would always be there. But self-preservation is a powerful behavior, an instinct you could not shake.
As your hands slowly left his, Bucky's face fell, crushing your soul. With a slight shake of your head, you swallowed hard. "I...I can't," you said, your voice barely a whisper. Without another word, you brushed past him, leaving him alone. Unable to bear the pain on his face, knowing your fear was the cause.
Since then, Bucky moved out of your shared bedroom into Wanda's room and Wanda began to bunk with you. You knew that you and Bucky wouldn't be able to continue your relationship after your refusal, no matter how badly you wished you could take your words back.
Despite your no longer being together, you and Bucky chose to remain with the others. You had a job to finish, and Bucky would follow Steve anywhere.
It surprised you that you managed to treat each other civilly and almost with indifference. Although, you made every effort to avoid being alone with him and he seemed to do the same. You hid your true feelings well, only allowing them to surface at night after waking from the inevitable nightmare. Well, you couldn't hide from Wanda as she read your mind out of habit these days. She had tried to talk to you about it, but you rebuffed her attempts. But if you did manage to wake her up with your nightmares, she would offer comfort by holding your hands until you fell back to sleep.
Still, most nights, you wound up in front of your computer, busying yourself with decrypting files, researching possible HYDRA strongholds, and trying to override the privacy settings on the hard drive you acquired in Tokyo. When that couldn't hold your attention, you either spent an exorbitant amount of time with the punching bag until your knuckles split open or in the Mirror Dimension practicing your spells. Staying busy was your attempt to distract yourself, to keep yourself from spiraling.
You worked through the night until the sun peeked over the mountains in the east. A short while later, you heard Wanda's small feet pad down the hallway. She was an early riser by nature, but unlike Sam, Steve, and Bucky, she preferred to spend her mornings relaxing.
The redhead covered her mouth, stifling a yawn as she entered the kitchen. Upon hearing the clicking of your keyboard, she walked to the table and sat down across from you, tucking her feet underneath her. "How long have you been awake?" she asked, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, trying to chase away the chill of the room.
Not taking your eyes off the screen, you conjured both of you steaming cups of coffee and sparked a flame on the logs in the fireplace. "I don't know...a few hours maybe?" you answered. You finished typing a command in the terminal before looking at her.
"You know you can wake me up if you have a nightmare," she said, wrapping her hands around the mug in front of her.
You waved her concern away, taking a sip of the coffee. "I'm okay, Wan," you said.
Wanda raised her eyebrows; she didn't believe you in the slightest. Still, she said nothing further about it. She gestured with her chin to the hard drive you had plugged into your computer. "How's it coming?"
You sighed, "You'd think, since I developed the security AI that's on this thing, I'd be able to crack it without a problem. But when Secretary Pierce got his hands on it for HYDRA's use, they took all my notes regarding its development and possible weaknesses. But I think I have figured out how to stop it from countering my commands."
She nodded, "That's good."
"The fact that it was locked down so tight makes me think that Batroc told the truth about what exactly is on this drive."
Wanda nodded silently. Her eyes lingered on the metal box. Ultron had manipulated her and her brother, using their anger towards the Avengers to his benefit. Blinded by grief, their actions and naïveté almost destroyed the world. "Hey, if he's on this thing," you said, catching her eye, "you can shred it down to the last atom." She nodded once in response.
The two of you watched the sunrise, sipping your coffees. As the warm rays spilled through the windows, you tilted your head back, letting the light chase away your demons, if only temporarily. "Bucky said Batroc threatened you in Tokyo," Wanda said as she sat her empty mug on the table, "What exactly did he say?"
You drummed your fingers on the tabletop, your gaze trained on the snow as it sparkled like diamonds in the early morning sunlight. "He's coming for you. For all of you. You won't escape him again."
"Any idea who he is?"
You had tried desperately to answer that question over the past month or so. But you couldn't come up with a definitive answer. You and Bucky escaped HYDRA agents at the ruins of the Triskelion and in Brooklyn. And the ones you knew before the Uprising were all dead. Technically, you, Steve, and Bucky had escaped Tony in Siberia, but he didn't seem like the type to associate with people like Batroc. And as the creator of the AI, Ultron haunted him just as much as he did the twins. It seemed highly unlikely that Tony had a copy of one of his greatest failures lying around. Unless the threat wasn't directed at you. But if it wasn't, why did Batroc stare you down as he said it? "No idea," you shrugged, "whatever it is, I'll deal with it."
The door to the garage opened. Steve, Bucky, and Sam stepped into the kitchen, sweaty and dressed in their workout clothes. They must have slipped out without your noticing while you were preoccupied with the hard drive.
"Good morning, ladies," Steve said with a grin.
"Morning, Specimen," you and Wanda said simultaneously.
Steve shook his head with a chuckle as Bucky passed him a glass of orange juice.
"You two are up early," Sam noted.
You nodded to the hard drive. "I think I may have finally cracked this thing open, but it will take some time for my program to override the AI."
Steve and Sam walked over to the dining table, peering over your shoulder at the computer screen. Bucky hung back in the kitchen, readying the kettle for coffee. "What's gonna stop Ultron from escaping using the internet once you boot up the program?" Sam asked.
"Before I open anything, I'll compartmentalize my machine using Qubes OS. Basically, make a separate computer within my machine, so he won't be able to access any of my files. I'll also disconnect the Wifi while the program is running, both on the computer and the router. No plugs into any walls just to be on the safe side," you said. "We are only going to confirm Ultron is on the drive; if it is, then Wanda will destroy it."
"Agreed," Steve said, "We can't risk it falling into the wrong hands."
"Or anyone's hands," Wanda muttered under her breath.
Sam nodded in agreement. "And if it doesn't have anything on it?" he asked as Bucky refilled your and Wanda's mugs with fresh coffee.
You flashed him a small grateful smile; he smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. You awkwardly cleared your throat, pulling your gaze back to Sam to answer his question. "Free external hard drive," you shrugged. "One can't ever have too much storage space."
A ding from your decrypting program announced its completion. All eyes in the room were drawn to your laptop. You took a deep breath as you eyed the flashing notification that your program had finished. "Steve, Wanda, you might wanna go wake Nat and Pietro," you said. The two nodded and disappeared down the hallway. You pulled your hair into a messy bun, readying yourself in case Ultron decided to take over your machine. "Sam, go and unplug the router for me, please." Putting his glass of juice down, Sam jogged to the room containing the chalet's surveillance equipment. Biting your lip, you opened Qubes OS and set up a separate window with the program, and then disconnected the internet connection and the Bluetooth for good measure.
"Can I help you with anything?" Bucky asked.
You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, having forgotten he was there. You shook your head, "No, thank you though," you said politely. The two of you didn't speak much to one another outside of group conversations, and when you did, one would never guess that you once used to be lovers with the level of formality you used. Bucky nodded, awkwardly standing next to the table sipping his coffee. "Actually, Nat is going to be livid that we woke her up so early. So, would you make her a coffee? Tame the beast, so to speak?" you asked, trying to add some lightness to your stiff conversation. Bucky nodded; the corners of his mouth ticked up in a subtle smirk as he quickly fixed Natasha's coffee.
"Клянусь Богом, Y/N. Это должно быть важно. Потому что, если это не так, я убью тебя во сне," the voice of a grumpy Natasha rasped from the hallway. ("I swear to God, Y/N. This had better be important. Because if it isn't, I'm going to murder you in your sleep.")
Bucky met the angry blonde halfway and held out a cup of coffee as a peace offering, stopping her Russian tirade mid-sentence. Natasha mumbled a gruff thank you as she sipped the caffeinated liquid before plopping into a chair next to you. Pietro, Wanda, and Sam soon joined you around the table. You looked to Sam, "We disconnected?"
Sam nodded, "We're good to go."
Steve gestured to the computer, "What's the play?"
"Everything's been disconnected. So I'll just open the drive and see what happens. If Ultron is on here, I'll eject it," you gestured to Wanda, "and Wanda will shred it with her powers. The world doesn't need another encounter with a homicidal artificial intelligence program."
"Okay," Steve said, "Let's see if Batroc was telling the truth."
You blew out a deep breath to shake away the nerves before typing the command in the terminal, opening the drive. Your team collectively held their breath. Another window opened, revealing...absolutely nothing. You typed in a few commands into the terminal, searching for hidden files and ghost drives. Nothing. The drive was completely clean. Your shoulders dropped and you sagged back into your chair.
"Nothing?" Sam asked.
Natasha grabbed your laptop and turned it towards her. She scanned the screen, "Nothing," she confirmed.
The tension left Pietro and Wanda's bodies as they sighed in relief.
You brought one hand to your chin as your mind tried to make sense of it all. An empty drive. The lengths Batroc went to protect it. The use of your own security AI made you sure it contained something nefarious. But why? For what purpose? And where on Earth did an Algerian mercenary get his hands on the program HYDRA had stolen from you? None of it made sense.
"I don't like this," Bucky said. "Something's not right."
"The drive's completely clean," Natasha said, typing a few more commands into the computer terminal, running your malware detection programs.
"Probably just bad intel," Steve said, looking Bucky's way. "It happens."
"And pirates aren't exactly known for their honesty," Sam reasoned.
Bucky turned to you, "How certain are you that we can trust your contact? How do we know that she hasn't turned on us?"
You bristled at his comment, suddenly defensive. Your eyes narrowed, "Sharon has never given me a reason not to trust the information she gives us."
"The CIA nearly intercepted us back in Tokyo," Bucky argued.
"Sharon's not the commander of that unit. She doesn't have control over major decisions like that," you said. "Besides, she only gives me information; I'm not stupid enough to tell her the plan." Bucky's sudden doubt pissed you off. Before you broke up, he had never questioned your judgment, trusting in your instincts and your skills.
"Each mission has risks," Steve said, trying to diffuse the tension building between you two. Bucky looked at Steve but said nothing. His mouth rested in a hard line. You crossed your arms across your chest. "Look," he continued, "I don't like it either, but we can't just sit around and speculate. I, for one, am relieved there is nothing on the drive."
"It's not like the mission wasn't a success," Pietro commented, "The CIA now has the wannabe Lafayette. He and his comrades will never see daylight again."
"Exactly," Steve affirmed. The others nodded in agreement.
"What about Batroc's threat?" Wanda asked, catching your eye.
You sighed heavily, "If he is working for some enemy of ours, then I don't see how giving us an empty drive with no hostile malware helps them out in any way. It's not like we don't have our share of enemies. Adding one more to the pile won't make a difference."
"But it's not something we should ignore," Sam said. Bucky nodded in agreement.
"I know," you placated, "but I don't think it should be our priority right now. As Steve said, it's no use to sit around and speculate." You looked to each of your teammates in turn but avoided Bucky's eye. You pushed back from the table. "I'm gonna let Sharon know about the drive. Tell her there is nothing to worry about." And you walked out of the room without another word.
~*~*~*~
Your Apartment. Foggy Bottom, Washington DC. April 2013.
You paced the length of your small apartment's living room. Your boyfriend was late...again. Normally, you wouldn't worry about this...S.H.I.E.L.D. missions were always unpredictable. But recently, he had become more secretive and evasive regarding his whereabouts and feelings towards you. "I don't know, Rey," you said into your phone, "maybe Brock's mission didn't require Captain America."
"Darling, he told you the STRIKE team would be accompanying Captain America before he left a few days ago," Rey reminded you.
"I could have misread his text," you reasoned.
Rey sighed, "Rumlow hasn't exactly ever been honest with you."
"His missions are classified."
"You have a higher clearance level than he does. If anything, you have access to all the STRIKE team's mission reports."
You knew you were grasping at straws, not wanting to consider the obvious answer. Your boyfriend was cheating on you.
You met Brock Rumlow at a S.H.I.E.L.D. task group meeting held by Secretary Pierce and Director Fury. The weekly meetings attempted to bring together prominent members of each department together to address various issues within the organization from communication between departments to funding. You and Rumlow would often be involved in heavy debates regarding various issues as you were both highly opinionated people. Tension had turned to attraction when after one particularly passionate argument the pair of you found yourselves making out in one of the supply closets.
You had dated Rumlow for six months. Your whirlwind romance was passionate and physical, but Brock was often gone for days, sometimes weeks, at a time on missions. As a part of Captain America's STRIKE Team, it was expected, but over time, you had grown suspicious. Missions often ran long. He stood you up for dates, claiming Secretary Pierce or Director Fury requested he work late. Your texts often went unread. Your calls unanswered. Your suspicions were all but confirmed after you ran into Captain Rogers at the grocery store earlier that evening when Rumlow was supposedly on a mission with him.
"Rey, what am I going to do?" you asked, your voice shook.
"You know how I feel about Rumlow," Rey said. "His callous treatment of you has multiplied my dislike of him tenfold. But for some ungodly reason, he makes you happy, so I think if you want to continue your relationship with him, then you need to talk to him about your concerns."
As you were about to reply, a loud knock sounded from your front door. "He's here. Lemme let you go."
"Call me if you need me," Rey said. "I'll be over there in a flash."
"I couldn't let you do that. Not with Ben being sick."
Rey scoffed, "He's being a bloody baby. Trust me, you'll be doing me a favor."
Another knock came from the door. "Okay," you acquiesced, "I'll let you know. Love you."
"Love you too, dear," Rey said, ending the call.
You placed your phone in your pocket before you opened the door.
"Hey there, gorgeous," Rumlow said, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. His hands were full of takeout containers from your favorite Thai restaurant.
"Hey, baby," you greeted, closing the door and locking it while he placed the takeout bags on the kitchen counter. "How was the mission?"
"Boring," he said, turning back to you. He hoisted you up in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. He captured your lips in a fierce kiss. "Missed you though," he murmured in between his heated kisses.
You wanted so badly to melt into his touch. Convince yourself that your worries weren't worth getting into an argument over. But the thought of him possibly cheating on you proved too difficult to ignore. You stiffened in his arms.
Rumlow pulled back to look at you. "What's wrong, gorgeous?"
You unwrapped your legs from his waist and stepped back, creating some distance between the two of you. "Not feeling too great," you said.
He sighed but nodded, "Well then, let's eat before it gets cold."
You nodded as he walked back toward the kitchen. You took a deep breath to collect yourself before speaking again, "I ran into Captain Rogers while I was at the grocery store earlier."
"Really?" Rumlow said lightly as he laid out the containers of pad thai, green curry, and sticky rice. "How is the Cap?"
"He looked a little lost in the dairy aisle. All the different types of milk had him confused I suppose."
"It's been almost a year since they de-iced the bastard," Brock chuckled, "and he's still not getting the hang of things."
You didn't laugh with him, instead taking another heavy breath. "I thought he was supposed to be on the mission with you?" you asked.
"Who? Rogers?" Rumlow asked, grabbing two plates off your exposed shelves.
"Yeah," you replied, "before you left, you said you were going on a mission with him."
"Oh," he said, "I don't remember saying that."
You sighed, taking your phone out of your pocket. You searched through your text messages until you found the right one as Rumlow spooned food onto the plates. You slid the phone toward him, "You did."
Rumlow stilled his hands as he read your text exchange. "Ah, well, Cap just left the mission before the rest of us once his part was complete." He resumed divvying up the Thai food between the two plates.
You shook your head in frustration. "That's bullshit," you pushed, "You and I both know that Steve wouldn't leave a job unfinished."
Rumlow placed both palms on the kitchen counter and hung his head, clearly annoyed that the evening was not going as he intended. "Y/N," he started.
"Where have you been, Brock?" you asked, your voice steely.
"I've been on a mission, Y/N," he said tightly. "That's where I've been."
You scoffed, "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying," he said through gritted teeth. His hands curled into fists.
"Really?" you clenched your jaw. "And if I looked at the STRIKE team's mission reports? Hmm? What would they tell me?"
Rumlow's eyes narrowed as he rounded the kitchen island slowly. You knew he didn't like the fact that you held a higher clearance level than he did. You learned never to mention it around him. But how else were you going to get him to tell the truth?
"C'mon, gorgeous," Rumlow said saccharinely, trying to disguise his malice.
"Just tell me the truth," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "Where have you been?"
"A mission!" Brock shouted, "Where I always am! On a motherfucking mission!"
"I don't believe you!" you shouted back, backing away from him.
"Well, I don't care if you do!"
Rumlow advanced toward you. You backed toward the couch, something in your gut told you to put as much space between you and him as possible. "I know you aren't working late all the time. I know you weren't on a mission with Rogers. Is there some big secret you don't want me to find out? Are you seeing someone on the side?"
"Rey's gettin' in your head again."
"This has nothing to do with Rey! Just answer the fucking question."
"No! I'm not gonna entertain this tantrum of yours no more."
"Don't you turn this around on me, Brock. I'm not a fucking child!"
"Then quit actin' like one!"
You threw your hands up in the air. "Fine!" you shouted. "I'm going to take your refusal to answer my questions as confirmation then." You turned to head down the hall to your room, "Get the fuck outta my apartment."
As you stalked away from him, Rumlow grabbed your arm. His fingers dug painfully into your flesh as he pulled you harshly back to him. "Don't you walk away from me!" he growled.
Your eyes widened in shock before they narrowed at him, "Let me go, Brock." you said through gritted teeth, attempting to break free from his grasp. Rumlow's grip on your arm tightened as he wrenched it behind your back. You gasped in pain as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.
"I said, don't walk away from me." he seethed.
"Let. Me. Go," you said forcefully, squirming in his hold.
"And why should I do that?"
"Because I'm not going to be held responsible for what I'll do to you if you don't."
Rumlow began to laugh at your threat, relaxing his grip on you. You took your free arm and elbowed him hard in the stomach, catching him off guard. He released you with a loud pained groan. You whirled around and punched him square in the nose. You sucked in a breath through your teeth as your knuckles split open. You shook out your fist, trying to rid yourself of the pain. "We're done, Brock," you said, making for the front door.
Rumlow stumbled back, gripping his nose with one hand as he tried to stifle the flow of blood. "You fuckin' bitch." He started toward you once more.
You swiped your pistol off the entry table and clicked off the safety, pointing it in his direction. Rumlow stopped dead in his tracks. "You come near me again. You touch me again. And I'll report you to Director Fury and all the other higher-ups I know. And if that doesn't work, then I'll shoot you myself," you threatened.
"You wouldn't dare," Rumlow said, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.
You cocked your head to the side and placed your finger over the trigger, "Fuck around and find out." Keeping your gun aimed at his chest, you unlocked your apartment door and opened it wide so anyone passing by could see in. You gestured with your chin to the door, "Goodbye Brock."
Rumlow stared at you intently, weighing his options carefully before a curt laugh bubbled up through his nose. He grabbed his jacket and keys off the kitchen island. "Good luck findin' a guy who'll love you, much less put up with your crazy damaged ass," he sneered as he brushed past you.
When he was out of sight, you slammed the door shut, making sure to turn the deadbolt. As the adrenaline left your body, you began to shake uncontrollably. Unable to stop the tears from pouring down your face, you activated the safety on your pistol and set it down gently on the entry table. Instinctively, you reached for your phone and hit speed dial. After a few rings, your best friend answered in her cheery British accent. "Rey?" you sobbed, sliding to the floor as your knees buckled.
Fifteen minutes later, keys rattled against the door. You jumped at the sudden noise, terrified Rumlow had returned. "Y/N!" Rey called through the door as if sensing your distress, "It's just me." The door opened, revealing a damp-haired brunette wearing her fiancé's black trench coat that swallowed her petite frame. Her eyes searched the room. Her face fell as she took in your form; your body curled into a ball with your back against the kitchen island. She shut the door firmly behind her and made sure to turn the locks.
Rey stripped off her coat, throwing it over the sofa, and bent down to your level. She pushed your hair out of your face, "Oh my god, darling! What happened?" She assessed your appearance, noting the bruises forming on your wrist and forearm and your split knuckles. Her jaw ticked in anger, her eyes hardened, "Oh, I am going to fuckin' kill him."
"Well, I already threatened to shoot him," you chuckled flatly. "So, you'll need to get in line."
"Do you need me to call anyone?" she asked, helping you to your feet, "I can call Agent Barton if you need me to."
You waved your hand, "No, no, that's alright." You sighed, running your hand through your hair.
Rey frowned but didn't push. "Come on," she said, pulling you toward the sofa, "let's get you cleaned up, and then you're coming back home with me."
"I think I broke his nose so I doubt he'll be coming back," you argued as she ducked into your bathroom for your first-aid kit.
"You gave him a key," she countered as she sat down next to you. Pouring the antiseptic wash on a pad of gauze, she set about cleaning the cuts on your knuckles. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation. "Sorry," she said softly. Then she carefully applied a light layer of antibiotic ointment over your injury. Packing up the kit, she reiterated, "You're coming home with me tonight."
"No, Rey, I could—"
She shot you a fierce look, daring you to argue with her further. "I don't like the idea of you being on your own tonight." She stood up from the couch and headed into your bathroom. You followed her to find that she was throwing various toiletries into one of your spare makeup bags. "You're going to come home with me. We are going to drown ourselves in a bottle of wine and some fancy-schmancy cheese. Then, in the morning, I'll have Ben help change your locks." She tossed the bag in your direction; you caught it easily. "Understood?" she said firmly.
You felt a smile spread across your face; at times like these, Rey reminded you so much of Hunter. You were grateful to have found a friend like her. You nodded, "Yes, ma'am."
"Excellent," she said returning your smile, "now go pack a bag."
~*~*~*~
S.H.I.E.L.D. Chalet. The Austrian Alps. January 30, 2018. 3 AM.
It had been a while since you dreamed of Rey. Even longer since you dreamt of her as she was when she was alive and not slumped against you with a bullet in her head. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes as you lied on your back, staring at the wooden beams that crisscrossed your bedroom ceiling. You missed her every day. She had been the first person since your sister's suicide that you called family. You had been at each other's side since you met. You had introduced her to Ben.
A pang of guilt pierced your chest. You hadn't seen or spoken to Ben since Rey's death. Perhaps, it was for the best. You didn't need to bring any more people into the world you had found yourself in. Maybe in the future, when it was safer, you could reach out.
You sighed heavily and dragged yourself out of bed, knowing that the odds of getting a few more hours sleep were not in your favor. Pulling on one of Bucky's old sweatshirts, you padded into the living room with the intent of making yourself some tea.
Halfway across the room, you felt you weren't alone. You turned toward the fireplace. A shirtless Bucky sat perched on the edge of his favorite armchair with his head in his hands. You stopped and made to turn around so you could make it back to your room before he noticed you. But before you could take the first step, Bucky lifted his head from his hands to see who was there.
"Y/N?" he asked.
"Sorry...uh..." you stammered, "I was just...going to make some tea...I didn't realize..."
"You don't need permission to make tea," he snapped.
You bristled at his harshness but didn't snap back. "I didn't want to disturb you."
"This is just as much your home as it is mine."
You gave him a curt nod before moving into the kitchen, determined to escape the awkward situation you had found yourself in. Conversation with Bucky nowadays was like walking on eggshells. It was exhausting.
"How did we get here?"
The whistle of the kettle jarred you from your thoughts. Hurriedly, you removed it from the flame and made to pour it over your teabag. Your sudden movements caused the boiling water to splash over the side of the cup, searing the back of your hand.
"Shit!" you hissed as you watched the burn turn your skin an angry red. A silver hand took the kettle from you and placed it back on the stove. The other warmer hand gingerly took your injured one and guided you over to the sink. Turning on the cool tap, Bucky gently ran water over the small burn. You sucked in a breath as the water initially stung before soothing your inflamed skin.
"Gotta be more careful, doll," Bucky whispered.
You drew your eyes from your hands to his face. When your eyes met his, you realized this was the first time the two of you had touched each other since that night. Gently, you extricated your hand from his. Nervously, you tucked your hair behind your ear. "Thanks," you said softly.
He nodded and stepped back from you, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. He gestured to the tea you made. "Nightmare?" he asked.
You shook your head, "Not exactly." You stirred a few spoonfuls of sugar into your tea. "I had a dream about Rey," you leaned against the counter, "Well, not exactly a dream, more of a memory...not a particularly pleasant one either."
Bucky took down a mug from the cabinet and filled it with the rest of the hot water before choosing a teabag. "Was it about that day at The Triskelion?"
"Surprisingly, no," you replied, "A memory from about a year before that day. She...uh...helped me deal with...a tough situation. She was always there for me like that, pushing me to be better."
"She sounds like Steve," Bucky commented.
You chuckled, "She kinda was." You sighed and took a few sips of your tea. "Did you know I introduced her to her fiancé?" Bucky shook his head. "His name's Ben. He used to live next door to me...a really good guy...absolutely perfect for her." You felt tears prick your eyes and took a shuddering breath, looking up to the ceiling as if that would stop them from falling. "When I woke up, uhh...all I could think about was how guilty I feel for not reaching out to him...after she died," you said haltingly. "And how if I reached out to him now, it wouldn't be fair to drag him into all of this...even if he did accept my apology for not being able to save her."
"Her death wasn't your fault," Bucky said.
"I know...but I could've tried to save her."
"Maybe..." he affirmed, "but then maybe it would have been you that died that day and not her. Then you wouldn't have been there to help me and everyone else on this team. Who knows where we would be without you?"
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, determined not to drown in your grief, not to fall apart. You'd almost forgotten how easy it was to talk to Bucky. "You always know what to say."
"Apparently, not all the time," Bucky flashed you a ghost of a smile, "I didn't know what to say or do to keep you."
You looked at the floor in shame, "Bucky, I–"
He waved away your reply, "It's okay." He finished the last of his tea and placed his mug in the sink. "Try and get some sleep," he said.
You nodded, "I'll try."
He gave you a slight nod with a small smile. As he made to move past you, he reached out and laid a hand on your arm. He let it linger there for a moment before leaning in and brushing a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin again. "Happy birthday, doll," he whispered as he pulled away. Then he disappeared down the hallway.
~*~*~*~
Undisclosed Location. January 2018.
An alert beeped from a tablet on a grimy fold-out table. A man's scarred hand scooped it up and unlocked the device. Pressing a few icons on the screen, he opened a map that revealed a pinged location that pulsated on a satellite image. "There you are." The man smiled as widely as his disfigured face would allow. "Couldn't resist could ya?" he drawled huskily, "Took you long enough though." He zoomed in on the image and chuckled as he recognized the coordinates. "Hidin' in the mountains, I see. Shoulda known you would be."
Smugly, he typed in a few commands into the interface, activating a tracker disc embedded within the housing of the external hard drive. He knew if he uploaded malware or a virus on the drive, you would find it immediately. There was a reason Pierce tasked him with bringing you into HYDRA's fold. Your abilities with programming and computers were miles above any member of the organization. But the man knew you wouldn't think to look inside the drive itself. He couldn't reveal himself just yet though. He needed more information before moving forward with his plan.
"I'm coming for you, gorgeous. You and that rag-tag team of washed-up superheroes you call friends."
~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
So, don't kill me for the refusal.
And for the resurrection of Rumlow
And for the angst-filled conversation and that sadsadsad kiss on the cheek.
Like Clint told us in epiphany, "It'll all work out in the end. Don't worry."
Again, shameless self-promo: please please check out my book Avengers Oneshots - it has been a lot of fun to write so far. And I am almost done with the next part of the evermore mini-series - gold rush. So be on the lookout for that.
As always, leave votes, comment, and share with your friends if you are enjoying the story! They give me life!!
Thanks for reading!
Ginger
P.S. The beginning quote is said by Finnick Odair to Katniss Everdeen in Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins.