Bucky:
It's two in the morning when Lottie has finally given in to sleep. Her still body is bathing in the moonlight that spills from Stark's enormous windows, sharpening her features and highlighting the bruises on her face.
I tried my best recounting what has happened between the two of us ever since I have made my way out of Hydra. A constant frown occupied Lottie's face, but she didn't react vigorously against it, so I doubt any bit of my account has triggered anything in her memory.
Damn.
At least I tried though. My heart still aches at the sight of her, vulnerable and exhausted before me. Reaching out, I brush her hair away from her face. She stirs at my touch, mumbling and angling herself towards me.
Biting down on my lower lip, I hold my breath and try to memorise how she looks like in the moonlight. I know I will have to prepare myself in case she never remembers, in case she has chosen to move on without me. I will have to accept that, won't I? If I truly love her, then I will let her go.
The thought stinks like a stab to my chest. No, a stab to my chest would definitely be better than this.
A couple of footsteps in the hallway announces Steve's arrival. My best friend lingers by the frame, his broad shoulder leans against the wall as he watches us with a weak smile at his lips. I can see that he wants to talk, but I would hate to leave Lottie behind.
After waiting for another moment, I give in. Sighing heavily, I glance towards Lottie, who's in her worn out shirt and jeans. She's going to be cold if she is staying out here.
I reach out before I even knew it. Freezing, I stop myself just in time. Sure, back then it wouldn't have been a big deal if I had to carry Lottie back to her own room. But Lottie doesn't remember me now. Can I still act around her like how I used to?
Before me, Lottie sniffs and mumbles in her dream. Making up my mind, I slip my hands under her as gently as possible. With ease, I straighten up with the girl in my arms. She merely shifts once before leaning into me, her face inches from my neck. Passing around Steve, who is watching me quietly, I step into the dimly lit hallway. Lottie's breaths tackle my skin lightly while I try to walk as softly as possible.
I nudge the door that leads to Lottie's room open. My eyes adapt to the darkness quickly, catching lights from New York City from the windows. Reaching the edge of her bed, I begin to lower Lottie. In my head, I'm desperately trying to memorise the way she has weighed and felt in my arms, just in case that is the last time I get to be close with Lottie. After tonight, after all that I have told her, she can decide whether she wants to stay or go. If she wants to go, I won't blame her. I can only blame myself for not keeping her safe.
Lottie's sleeping body has finally found its home in her bed. Turning on my heels, I head for the ajar door. The light from the corridor spills onto the floor.
"James?"
My heart almost jumps into my mouth. Every inch of my body is burning the moment I hear Lottie saying my name in the dark. Almost spinning around, I turn to try to settle my gaze on the stirring body in bed. "Yes, doll?"
Wordless mumbles are heard. After a moment, Lottie's groggy eyes peer through, blindingly trying to search for me in the dark. "Thanks, James," she yawns and rolls onto her side, so her face is away from me, "for tonight."
I'm already missing looking at her. "Of course, sweetheart," I whisper, stepping out of the room tentatively as if I might step on the broken pieces of my heart. "Anything for you."
Leaving her room, I find Steve in the open kitchen with an opened bottle of water in his hand. I pass him and pull open the fringe's door. My best friend is still silent. "Spill the beans, punk," I growl, my hand hovers above a bottle of water before moving onto a beer.
"Jerk." When I turn, the man shakes his head with a wan smile at his lips. The lid of my beer comes off easily when I twist it with my metal hand. Without thinking twice, I take a huge gulp until I feel like I'm drowning. "How are you going to be okay?" Steve asks when I place my beer on the counter next to me. My chest heaves and falls.
"I don't know." My answer is an honest one, at least.
Steve plays with the lid of his water bottle thoughtfully before speaking up, "You do know that, there may be a possibility that she won't remember." At that, I pick up my beer again. Steve sighs. His shoulders hunches. "I'm sorry, Buck."
"Me too," I say in between sips. A few drops escape and roll down my chin. Hell, if I was alone now, I would have been bailing out like a big baby.
"I think I should also remind you that it's her choice if she wants in on Bruce's and Tony's plan."
Steve flinches when I slam my bottle onto the counter, nearly shattering the glass. "No," I hiss and repeat it under my breath sternly, "You hear me loud and clear. No."
Steve's face pales. "This is her choice, Bucky," he counters, spreading his hands towards me in surrender. I glower, my grip on the bottle tightens.
"I know what it feels like. What Stark and Banner have in mind, it ain't good stuff, Steve. Someone has already done that to me, and I have only come back from hell because of that. I'm not going to let her go through that."
I feel like I'm running a hundred miles. My breaths are ragged as I try to steady my head. Steve's worried gaze flicker between the bottle in my hand and I. His brows knit tighter. "She's been hurt for too many times because of me, Steve. That needs to stop, don't you understand?" My voice cracks as I almost plead my best friend, "please, I can't let them do that to her."
The bottle in my flesh hand has finally given it. It explodes with a loud ring through the room. For a second, I was holding onto something half empty. The next second, my hand is wrapped around nothing but air. Steve flinches and scowls. "Bucky, your hand!" I know my palm is probably cut but it barely scratches my mind. I shrug at him and glance down on the mess that I have made on the floor. I can feel it coming. Whenever something bad happens, like a door or dusted window, the deepest part of my mind opens up with a creak, and I will shut myself in it for a good couple of hours before I feel like I'm ready to face life again. It has happened less frequently because of Steve and Lottie. But a lot has happened lately, and I feel like I'm stumbling towards the ghostly door in my head.
Before the two of us can make a move, Jarvis speaks up from the system, which startles the both of us.
"Sirs, Miss Romanoff has requested to see you and Mr. Stark now."
Steve meets gaze with me with a deep frown. "Now?" he quizzes, "What is she doing here now? I thought she was on a mission."
Tony's voice is heard before he emerges from the stairs with Bruce. The billionaire has a puzzled expression on. "Did I hear that right? Natasha is coming in now?" He peers at the scientist next to him while heading over to where Steve and I are standing. "Maybe she wants to see you, doctor."
A dark flush colours Banner's chin at once. "I don't know anything of this," he defends.
Distracted by the sight of the shattered glasses and spilled beer around my feet, Stark rolls his eyes and grumbles, "you people. Can't you all just be a little more civilised? You better clean that way afterwards, Frosty."
The elevator door slides open with a ring, announcing Natasha's arrival on cue. A certain stillness of atmosphere falls upon us when we catch glimpse of the state that Natasha is in. Her red short hair are wild around her face. Her eyes are wide and diluted. The agent limps towards us with gritted teeth. Grimacing when she has stepped on a foot with a bad angle, she pants and growls, "I need to talk to all of you. Now."
"What happened?" Steve questions. His brows are knotted with concerns. Eyeing the water in his hand, Natasha snatch it off him and begin to help herself to the water. She finishes it in a blink.
Then, wiping her mouth hastily, she explains, "I'm on my way to a safehouse. The mission is crashed. We will have to wait for another few months before we can carry on with what we were doing in one of Hydra's base." Just hearing the name of Hydra sparks chill in my spine. Natasha's eyes fly to me. At first, she hesitates, as if she regrets including me in her audience. But time is precious, and I'm sure the Black Widow doesn't have much to lose. Licking her rouge lips, she continue, "but I found something that I think you all should know. We all have to prepare ourselves when they are ready."
"They?" Bruce quizzes, "You mean Hydra?"
Nodding, Natasha finishes with what she has come to announce, "Hydra has a new plan. They're going to make an army of Winter Soldiers."