MARTINA WASN'T AT ALL SURPRISED to see that almost everyone had come out to witness her use her powers first hand.
Every one minus Bucky- that didn't surprise her either.
Once Tony had informed everyone in the building that Martina was going to use her powers, they had dropped everything they were doing and had joined her outside- a couple of miles away from the compound- in an abandoned and clear field that was covered with snow.
"Stupid powers," Artemis mumbled, pulling up the hood of her big blue parka as she snuggled into Loki's chest. "I can't believe you guys aren't wearing coats. Jesus, Steve, you're wearing a t-shirt. It's like ten degrees out here."
Steve- in the aforementioned t-shirt and running shorts- stood beside her and Loki, the latter not bothering to change from the pressed cotton shirt and crisp black jeans he was wearing, trying to ignore the glare a bundled up Wanda was giving him.
"Some of us were built to withstand anything," Steve bragged, smiling at Natasha who was glaring daggers at him underneath her thick black beanie, and Clint who had pulled the zipper of his snow jacket all the way up to his chin.
"And you, Martina? Even you?" Artemis pleaded as Clint threw his arms over her shaking shoulders, slapping Loki when their hands accidentally touched.
Out of all of them, Martina was the one wearing the least amount of clothing in her short baby blue pajama bottoms and a tank top- a detail that both Lionel and Tony jotted down in their notes as they prepared for her experiment.
"What?" she asked, staring down at her bare legs. "I mean...I shoot fire out of my hands. Makes sense?"
There was a beat of silence and then everyone around burst into laughter, bringing a smile to Martina's face as they did. She had always liked pleasing other people and liked having the ability to make them laugh.
Her joke, however dark it was, was just another pocket of joy.
Cling to those pockets of joy, they'll keep you sane.
It wasn't until everyone had stopped laughing that she realized that all eyes were focused intently on her.
"You're staring," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, her insecurities reemerging.
Tony looked at her and hung his mouth open. "Um, well, I don't know. Bend fire, Prince Zuko."
"How?" Martina said with a dry laugh, slapping her hands on her thighs. "I haven't been exactly choosing when it happens, you know."
Tony shook his head as he turned to Artemis. "This is your fault."
The blonde woman snapped her head at him. "My fault?!"
"You let her get too comfortable around us. We should have done what I suggested and locked her in a freezer for the first month."
"Hey!"
"Watch it!"
Wanda and Artemis had snapped at him at the same exact time, feeling more and more inclined with every word to put Stark in his place, or perhaps lock him in the freezer.
However, when Natasha looked over at Martina, she noticed that her fists were clenched almost painfully and that a light stream of smoke was coming out from between her knuckles.
"Tony," Natasha whispered. "I think you're on to something."
Tony completely ignored the fury he was receiving from the other two women as he nodded his head rapidly and stepped forward.
His steps were measured as he walked slowly to Martina. "What? Now that you've made friends you've forgotten about everything that happened a month ago?"
Martina's expression slackened as her fists loosened a bit. "W-what? You know I didn't mean to-"
"Sure you didn't," Tony laughed dryly, curling his lip as his eyes narrowed at her. "You had a temper tantrum and burned down a neighborhood."
"No!" Martina screeched, her chest heaving up and down as she blinked her eyes repeatedly- almost as if trying to wake herself up from a nightmare. "It wasn't like that! I was being attacked!"
"The guy was trying to rob the cafe, not kill you!"
"Stop," Martina begged, her chin trembling as she spoke, looking at everyone around for some sort of comfort. "Please, stop."
"Stop? You think you deserve any mercy after all those people you killed?"
Martina was clawing at her hair now, gasping for air as she paced back and forth. She knew Tony was trying to rile her up, she knew he didn't mean it, but he just sounded so cruel. "Stop!"
Artemis didn't like what Tony had started, and what Natasha had so eagerly pushed upon him, and she stalked up to Stark and grabbed his arm. "Back off!"
He yanked his arm away as he took more steps toward Martina. "Is that it? You want me to back off? You want Artemis- a woman you barely know- to fight all your battles? Are you that weak?"
"Shut up," Martina pleaded, clawing at her neck like she couldn't breathe. "Please, please, please."
"You're pushing her too much!" Steve yelled, joining Artemis as they both tried to pull Stark back.
"Do you think she needs to be babied? That she's the victim in all of this? She's not a victim. She's a murderer!"
Martina gritted her teeth together and snarled. "CÁLLATE!"
In one blazing second, Martina had torn her hands away from her face and propelled them in Stark's direction as bright red-orange flames blasted from her hands in his direction.
Wanda immediately clapped her hands together and then pulled them apart, creating a shield around Tony and the others.
The fire kept coming, shooting from her arms as memories began to flash in Martina's mind.
People were screaming, pleading for someone to help them as they burned alive all around her.
She could never forget the smell of smoldering flesh that clung to the air.
When she walked out of the cafe, unharmed and completely terrified, she could see the destruction she had caused. All that was left of the citizens of that block were charred, blackened bones. The buildings were destroyed and the entire block was covered in thick black smoke.
Her powers caused her so much unbearable pain. It felt like her mind was breaking and melting all at the same time.
The snow around her began to melt as her tears fell against the burned earth below her. She felt the fire expand to her arms and shook them, as if to put out the flames, but ended up setting a nearby tree on fire.
Too much noise. Too much pain. Too much confusion.
Too much, too much, too much.
"Shit!" Tony yelled, looking at the fire that was close to spreading to the surrounding forest. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, we need extinguishers, ASAP!"
Loki, who had thrown himself protectively over Artemis and was holding her against his chest, rolled his eyes at the melodrama, and with a snap of his fingers, the fire was out.
"Can you do that to her?" Clint questioned desperately, watching as the poor girl's legs became engulfed in flames.
"Why would I do that? This is rather amusing," he scoffed, frowning when Artemis ripped herself away from him.
"This is not funny!" she screeched, slapping his arm. "Can you do something?"
Loki shook his head. "I have no idea what would happen if I tried that on her. I could easily make her explode!"
"Martina!" Artemis cried, moving closer to the border of the shield. "It's okay! Stark didn't mean any of that! He was just trying to rile you up!"
Wanda, who was still trying to maintain the shield even when the fire began to slowly creep up around it, looked at Clint. "Do you think I should get in her head?"
"I don't think you can do it from this far away," he said, looking up and seeing that patches of her magic were beginning to incinerate. "You could just make it worse."
They were all shouting at Martina, trying to make her relax, hating Stark, but everything fell on deaf ears.
Martina was trapped in her mind, blinded and deafened by screams and sights and smells.
No one had realized that Bucky Barnes had been carefully watching their experiment from the top of the hill, and when he had heard all the foul things Stark had directed to her, a growl began to bubble deep in his throat.
He didn't care that the others were in danger, not at that moment, because Martina looked so out of control, so terrified, and so miserable.
He could see himself reflected in her agony, spreading hate and violence unwillingly to those she cared for.
Without thinking, he had begun to run down the hill, quickly making his way up to her with one thought in mind.
It wasn't to stop her.
It was to help her.
The fire was spreading around her, it had consumed her, trailing up and down her short legs, clinging to her bare arms, and crawling up her neck.
"Martina," he said, keeping his voice cool and calm as he finally made his way to her. "Stop."
Everything was blurry, but through her agony, she managed to hear his voice. She could feel his presence almost as much as she could feel the crippling heat surrounding her.
"No puedo!" she cried weakly, screaming again as the flames grew in size and heat. "No puedo!"
Bucky walked up to her, not knowing what would happen, but knowing what he needed to do.
In one fluid motion, he clamped one of his hands around her wrist. The second he did, the pain shocked him like a jolt of electricity as flames began to crawl from his right hand up to his arm. She tried to rip herself away with him, surprising him with just how strong she was, but he would not let go- no matter how much it hurt.
And it hurt.
With gritted teeth, he pressed his other arm against her back and pulled her into his chest, letting go of her wrists so he could use his left hand to press her face into his chest.
"Martina," he whispered in her ear, stroking her hair and trying to hide the pain in his voice. "Stop."
It took a few minutes for her will to drain and the flames to begin to taper off, all the while he felt the burns covering his chest sting with every move she made.
She was whimpering as the final flame died down and she pulled her head back.
She looked up at him through a tear and ash stained face, trying to gather her bearings, when she saw all the damage she had inflicted upon him.
"Oh, god!" she whimpered, ripping her hands away from him. "Bucky, oh god, are you-"
She stopped mid-sentence when she looked down, past his burned and blistered bare chest, to the hands that were holding her waist steady.
She paid special attention to the metal hand.
Bucky coughed self-consciously as his left hand dropped from her waist. He averted his gaze. "Don't worry. It'll heal in a few days."
"Martina!"
Artemis' scream was followed by a few others as they all ran at full speed toward her.
"Why didn't you think of doing that?!" Clint shouted, shoving Steve's chest.
Steve was shaking his head in disbelief as he looked at Bucky. "I hadn't considered it!"
Tony hadn't run up to Martina, he had walked slowly to where she stood and held an arm out to her. His face was so soft and he swallowed hard as he approached her. "Hey. Firecracker-"
Martina had ripped herself away before he could touch her and stumbled a bit, causing Bucky to tighten the hold he had on her; he was the only thing keeping her standing. She erupted in another round of soul-shattering sobs.
"You've done enough today, Stark!" Artemis yelled, grabbing him by the elbow and pushing him away from her.
Despite the pain, Bucky held Martina against his chest and began to tenderly stroke her hair the way he had before. All the reasons he wanted to distance himself from her faded at that moment as he held her tiny shivering frame against his.
"Come on," Bucky insisted calmly, looking down at her to see that she had somehow only been reduced to the singed bra she had been wearing under her shirt and tattered shorts that were barely clinging onto her. "Let's get you changed."
However, Martina could not move, she could barely breathe; Bucky and his touch were the only things keeping her awake.
At the sight of her trembling knees, Bucky hoisted her up and cradled her against his chest as his long legs began to take quick strides back to the compound.
Martina was shuddering against his chest, holding on tightly to his burnt shoulders and embracing how cool his metal arm felt against her bare back.
In a matter of minutes, he had kicked the door open to her room and set her down gently on the bed.
He made sure she could sit up on her own, brushed a few of the hairs away from her face before he knelt down in front of her.
"Are you okay?" he hesitated, watching the way her eyes could only focus on the hands in her lap.
She was still sniffling and brought one wrist up to brush away the tears on her face. "I should be asking you that."
"Trust me, I'm okay."
She shook her head, refusing to look at him, so he reached his right hand out and gently grasped her chin between his fingers.
"Martina," he whispered. "Look at me."
She let his fingers guide her chin up so that her tear brimmed eyes could take a nice long look at him.
She let out a soft gasp when she saw that the burns that had covered his chest were still there, but they were fading- no longer blistered and oozing. She lifted her hand carefully and traced the burn patterns that moved from his lower abdomen to his chest and crawled up his shoulders to his neck.
He hissed as his muscles contracted under her touch. Normally, he would have flinched. Normally, he severely disliked being touched because it triggered too many violent memories that he didn't want to face.
However, nothing was normal about Martina Garcia or the way her nimble fingers danced across his skin.
"See?" he asked breathlessly, wrapping his left hand around her wrist. "I'll be good as new in a day or so."
She looked up, deep into his eyes that were partially obscured by the dark brown hair that covered them. "B-Bucky, what happened to your arm?"
Immediately, all the thoughts he had been successfully blocking out while he helped her faded away and he found himself cringing under her touch. He yanked back his hand as softly as he could and stood.
"You and I have a lot in common, Martina."
She had shrunk when he ripped himself away from her, but she found several questions lingering on her tongue as he slowly backed away.
If her legs could find the strength to stand, she would have, but they were as good as rubber.
"Bucky-"
But before she could ask those burning questions, Artemis and Wanda came flying into the room.
"Martina!" Artemis yelled, shoving aside Bucky to plop herself down beside Martina. "Are you alright?"
"Stark was being a dick," Wanda said, sinking down on the mattress beside her.
"It's going to be okay," Artemis whispered in her ear, her face buried in her neck.
"I know," Martina whispered, her and Bucky's eyes locked together as he walked out of the room. "I know."
━
Martina had reluctantly slinked out of her room the following morning, her hair still damp from the ice bath, as she walked to the kitchen.
Although everyone had insisted that what had occurred the night before was fine and to be expected, it didn't ease the guilt and shame she carried around on her shoulders.
She hadn't hurt anyone- besides a quickly healing Bucky, that is- but she easily could have.
She plopped herself down in front of the kitchen counter and picked up a banana from the dusty fruit bowl in front of her.
"Do you want something more than that?"
Her body stopped in place as Tony Stark entered the kitchen, going immediately for the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.
When he looked at her, she merely shrugged her shoulders, and Stark took that as enough of a go-ahead to start making her breakfast.
He cracked an egg. "I want to talk about yesterday."
"I don't," she whispered back, her banana looking more and more appetizing by the second.
He carefully whisked the eggs before putting them in the waiting pan. "I think we should."
"Look, Stark-"
"Stark is it now?" Tony said, his back still turned at her as he began to cook the eggs. He wasn't a man who liked to express vulnerability, and it didn't come easily to him, so the only way he could admit his mistakes was to keep his eyes off her. "Martina, you have to know that I didn't mean the things I said. I was just trying to get you riled up. I went too far."
"Here's the thing though," she began, bringing her knees up to her chest. "You didn't go far enough. Everything you said; it was true. It doesn't matter that I couldn't control it, it doesn't matter that I didn't mean to. I did it."
Stark turned around, presenting the plate of eggs he had just made and propped his elbows on the counter.
She looked down at the plate and found herself letting out a content sigh. She looked up at him with a smirk. "You don't cook much, do you?"
He smiled back gingerly as he pushed the plate of runny eggs away from them. "I'm sorry- not just for the eggs, although I'm sorry for that too- I'm sorry for everything I said. I know you don't believe it, but you're not a murderer."
"Like I said," she replied, standing up to make a quick escape. "I don't really want to talk about it."
"Fine," he relented, sighing at his lame-ass attempt at trying something he wasn't good at. "Let me just leave you with this. I think you should talk to the broken white boy."
"Bucky?" she asked immediately; it was an accurate description of him based only on what she had seen. "Everyone keeps saying that. Why?"
Tony didn't elaborate but simply pointed her in the direction of the sleeping quarters. "You need to ask him that."
She nodded her head before turning around to the direction he had pointed at. She didn't know what else to say to Stark, there wasn't really much on her mind.
He apologized but deep in her gut, she knew she couldn't accept it.
Because she didn't believe his lie.
So, instead, she went to find something else to believe in.
Or rather someone.
━
Martina walked into Bucky's room not knowing what to expect. She had tried to knock, but he hadn't answered, and seeing as though he had walked into her room before without waiting for a reply, she didn't feel too bad doing the exact same thing.
Bucky was laying shirtless in bed, a book held tightly in his hands, but he shot up the second she walked in the room.
"Sorry, I knocked," she said, keeping herself firmly rooted in her spot next to the door.
"Yeah, I heard," he said, his gruff voice cutting through the air defensively.
He had been so nice and comforting to her the night before, but he had reverted back to the coldness she had seen the very first time she met him. If people thought she was erratic- flipping back and forth from one emotion to the other- then what was Bucky?
She bit on her lip nervously, her eyes trying to avoid looking at his chest, which was now only littered with small white scars- all the burns were gone just like he said they would be. It didn't help that his eyes were on her, unflinching and unforgiving, not looking at her like a typical man would a woman- it was more analytical in nature as if he was trying to predict what she would do.
She forced her eyes to look at the book he held in his hands, and when she read the cover, she couldn't help but let her nerves dissipate and smile.
"So you like it," she said, moving deeper into the room and pointing at the copy of Beyond Good and Evil that he held in his metal hand.
"What's wrong?"
Her head snapped back at his blunt question. For a second, she saw a flash of concern cross his eyes as he sat up straight, tipping his head as he looked at her.
"Did something happen?"
She shook her head. "No, it's just- everyone has been not-so-subtly hinting that I should talk to you. That you can relate to what I'm going through."
Again, Bucky became uncomfortable in her presence. When she had walked in unannounced, he hadn't been angry, more like concerned. He hadn't let that show until after she had asked about the book. He recognized the way her eyes could not focus on anything in particular, and the incessant tapping of her foot. Those things were what brought out the side of him he had displayed the night before- no matter how taxing it was to him.
He was on edge. He knew that his friends hadn't told her much because they believed that his story was not something they could rightfully share.
Again, something in the back of his mind itched painfully.
Say something, Buck.
"It's not a pretty story," he admitted, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, gesturing for her to join him. "To be honest, it's refreshing that you don't know."
"If it's that refreshing, then why do you not like me?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
He was thrown back by her comment. First, by how incredibly sharp and brutal it was, and second for the sheer question itself.
"I don't not like you," he admitted, his tension easing when she sat down beside him. "It's just, something bad happened to me and after they did, I did some really bad things."
"Me too," she whispered, watching the way his metal hand clenched and unclenched beside her. "What does that have to do with me?"
For some unfathomable reason, Bucky found his right hand moving over his body to land softly on hers.
A part of him he didn't recognize didn't want her to believe that there was anything so incredibly wrong with her that a guy she never knew before would instantly hate her. He felt the overwhelming desire to placate her worries and make them go away. If he couldn't for himself, he needed to for her.
"You..." he began, looking up at her as he swallowed harshly. "You remind me of those bad things- of the bad time."
She licked her lips as she looked up at him, using all the control she had to not brush his hair away from his face so his eyes would be unobscured.
She wanted him to continue- to explain the bad times and the bad things- but she couldn't.
If he had asked her, she wouldn't want to either.
"Are you going to help me?" she whispered, watching the way his radiant yet vacant blue eyes lit up for just the briefest of seconds.
If there was one thing Bucky knew- that he just discovered the very moment he saw the look of fear and desperation in her eyes- was that he was always meant to help her and he wouldn't stop himself from doing it any longer.
"Yeah," he said, squeezing her hand gently before lifting it to tuck his hair behind his ear. "How does tomorrow sound?"
She let out the breath she had been holding the second she walked in the room and her chest felt lighter in the aftermath. She smiled at him and shook her head rapidly. "Perfect. Although, I have to admit I'm nervous."
Any calm feelings Bucky had at that moment faded, and the ice froze his face yet again as he replied. There was no use trying to console her. "You should be."
Martina bit her lip as she stood, almost halfway across the room until Bucky's voice called her back.
"Wait," he said, louder than he meant as he held up the book. "Do you think you could read to me some more?"
Martina snorted as she walked back to the bed, leaning on one of the four posters as she smirked. "What? You can actually read, right?"
Bucky chuckled lightly as he held out the book to her. "I like it when you do it. It feels-"
Familiar yet new. Dangerous yet exciting. Crippling yet filling.
"It's nice."
Martina took the book out of his hand and sat at the edge of the bed, flipping through the pages as Bucky laid back down with his hands behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles.
She had stopped on a page and opened her mouth-
"Oh!"
Martina shut her mouth and a blush spread furiously up her neck and to her cheeks. She looked mortified as she turned to Bucky and shook her head. "That wasn't- I didn't- it wasn't-"
"I know it wasn't you," Bucky laughed, raising his head to see the adorable look of scandalization Martina held.
"Oh! Oh!"
The orgasmic moan filled the room once again and Martina felt the urge to shove the book into her face because of the sheer embarrassment of the situation. "Oh god, is that..."
"Loki and Artemis?" Bucky finished, looking over apathetically to the wall on their left. "Yup."
"How often do they do that?" Martina gasped, looking around to see if there was anything she could stuff into her ears.
Bucky tipped his head as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth and widened his eyes. "Almost every night,"
"Jesus Christ, Loki! Harder!"
Martina was still horrified, but after looking at the way Bucky's lips were trembling with surpressed amusement she began to laugh and he lost his restraint as he began to laugh alongside her.
Neither Bucky nor Martina could remember the last time they had laughed like that- holding onto their stomachs, tears escaping, hiccups rising- and it was all because of the two shameless lovers in the next room.
When her laughter subsided, Martina pointed to the door. "Should we go somewhere else?"
"Nah," Bucky said, straining his ears in concentration. "It sounds like they're almost-"
"-finished?"
Bucky snorted as he propped himself up on his elbows and Martina all of a sudden became too aware of the fact that he was still shirtless.
"I don't want to know how you know that."
And, true to his word, the to lovers stopped mere minutes later.
Martina had settled herself comfortably on the bed, leaning against the poster as she held the book in front of her face, glancing once more at Bucky's form before she began reading.
Bucky wasn't looking at her, his eyes were closed and if she were a stranger, she would have thought that he was asleep- or dead even- but she took that quiet moment to observe just how peaceful he looked.
There was still some lingering tension in his shoulders but his stubble covered jaw was relaxed, his lips were loose and slightly open, and his chest was rising and falling with ease.
It was then that she looked back down and spotted the perfect start to her oration.
"With hard men, intimacy is a thing of shame- and something precious..."
―A/N―
Hello, lovelies!
Here's another chapter in the books for y'all! I know it took a bit to get here but character development takes time, especially with someone as stubborn as our James Buchanan Barnes.
I hope we're all looking forward to seeing Martina and Bucky begin their therapy (if that's what we're going to call it) sessions! It'll reveal a lot about our two main characters and I can't wait for y'all to read it!
Also, Loki and Artemis, I would say get a room but...
Next update will be this Friday!
Until then & faithfully yours,
Bella.