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mermaidxatxheart · 4 years

Text

A Beautiful Lie

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: This one is rough, guys. Trauma, torture, blackmail, Bucky being dangerously charming. If torture isn’t for you, please don’t read.

Prompt: The truth is, I was only using you. (will be in bold)

Summary: You’re forced to do something terrible, something you would give your soul not to have to do.

A/N: Y’all, it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything, almost all year. I’ve really been struggling to find the inspiration to write and I really appreciate everyone who has stuck with me and followed me through this dry spell. Hopefully, I’m reaching the end of it. This is for @coffee-with-bucky‘s 2k writing challenge. I am beyond late, and I am so very sorry. Congratulations on your milestone, and I hope you reach many more.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, Bucky. It’s in the complete opposite direction of where you need to be.” You tell him as he dutifully walks you up the steps to your apartment building.

“Are you kidding? My mother would be rolling in her grave if I let my date walk home by herself. She raised me better than that.” He defends, raising a big hand to his chest. “And I’m right where I need to be, making sure my girl gets home safe.” He nudges your arm playfully. “Besides, I get to spend more time with you this way.”

“Those are all very good points.”

He pulls open the heavy door for you and you step inside. You’ve only been dating Bucky a couple of months, but so far, he’s the most amazing person you’ve ever met. Old world charm without being a creepy serial killer; a gentleman without assuming you need to give him something in return.

It’s nice to be doted on just because.

He pushes the button for your floor and watches the numbers. You watch him. His long eyelashes, his perfectly sculpted profile, strong jaw, pouty lips. They twitch at the corners, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the numbers. The creaking of the elevator stretches out the silence as it descends.

“You’re staring.” He points out.

“Am I? Oops.” You shrug, still looking at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” He sighs.

“Why does there have to be anything wrong? Maybe I’m just watching so you don’t disappear.” You turn to face him.

Slowly, he twists his head to look at you, a frown tugging at his mouth now. “Disappear? And where exactly would I go?”

“Wherever it is that perfect men go when the dream ends.” You lean against him with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m far from perfect.” He shakes his head and you capture his face in your hands, having to rise up on your tiptoes.

“You have been everything I could have ever wished for. You’re perfect for me.”

He dips forward to kiss you softly and the doors ding open. He wraps his big arms around you and lifts you up, carrying you into the small box. You yelp in surprise and cling to his shoulders. He grins and sets you back against the wall, leaning down to kiss you again.

He’s soft. So very soft and gentle with you. The cool metal of his left hand brushes down your cheek and his eyes search yours, the smile on his face growing with each passing second.

“What?” You ask quietly. “Do I have something on my face?”

He laughs quietly. “You’re beautiful.” He shakes his head. “No, I was just thinking about something.” He says so casually.

“Care to share with the class, Barnes?” You tease.

“Well, I was just thinking that I love you.” He says, turning around to face the doors.

Your heart tumbles in your chest as you look at his shit eating grin. “You do?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re perfect for me.” He shrugs and you smack his arm. He laughs, capturing your hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I love you, too.”

He pulls you against him and picks you up, kissing you hungrily. You rake your fingers through his hair, moving with him in perfect harmony.

The doors open on your floor and he carries you out and down the hallway, stopping just outside your door. He kisses down your neck and you tip your head back, breathing heavily. He presses you against the wall, finding all your sensitive spots. You let out a breathy moan and he pulls away with a small chuckle.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask as he sets you back down on wobbly legs.

“I think one milestone is enough for tonight.” He smiles, brushing your hair back behind your ears.

“Nope, not enough.” You shake your head. He has you in a state of frenzy now.

He grins. “Another time.” He promises. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

He waits until you’re inside your apartment to leave. But that’s when you could have used him the most.

Hands grab you from behind, a strong arm curling around your waist and the other covering your mouth. You still scream, try to wriggle out of the strong hold they have on you. But it’s no good. A large figure clad in all black appears in front of you, arm raised and then everything goes black.

***

The aroma of delicious smelling food wafts through the entire building. It permeates into every room and causes several heads to poke out their doors. You smile sheepishly, knocking on Bucky’s door.

He pulls it open, sweat pants low on his hips as he towels his hair dry. “Y/N.” He says in surprise.

“I thought you might be hungry.” You hold up the bags of takeout. “But I didn’t know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Did I hear there was extra food?” A voice says behind you and Bucky groans with a roll of his eyes.

“No one invited you, Wilson. Go away.”

“No, it’s okay, Bucky. Honestly, there’s so much-we can share.” You smile back at his friend.

Inside, your stomach is roiling with nerves.

It takes you a long time to wake up, your pulse pounds in your ears, giving you a headache. Or maybe it was the chemical they used to knock you out.

“Finally. We don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll get right to the point.” A man’s voice says roughly, grabbing your chin.

Your eyes flutter closed as you fight the effects of whatever they gave you.

“I hope you’re paying attention because I definitely don’t like to repeat myself.” He warns.

“But I don’t like to share.” Bucky protests.

“Great, it’s settled.” His friend grins, taking the bags from you and leading you away from Bucky. “I’m Sam. I’m sure he doesn’t mention me much. He wouldn’t want you to come to your senses and leave him for someone smarter, handsomer, superior in every way-really.” Sam smirks and you give a chuckle.

“You’ll have to let me know when someone like that arrives.” You return and he groans. Bucky laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“That’s my girl.”

More of the Avengers file into the kitchen and you back up out of the way. Unfortunately, you bump right into Tony Stark. He squints down at you suspiciously.

“And where do you think you’re going?” He asks, draping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you back into the crowd.

“Oh, I was just moving out of the way.” You say awkwardly.

“Relax, kid. I’m messing with you.” He says easily. He opens a cabinet and turns to you. “Hands up.” He says and you hold your hands out automatically. He gets down a bunch of plates and sets them in your grasp. “Table. Go.” He turns you around and points to the large dining table.

You set out the plates while everyone brings the food over and it feels so surreal, sitting at a table surrounded by the most powerful humans on the planet and they’re just talking and laughing like one big family.

Bucky squeezes your hand as everyone starts helping themselves to food. Bowls get passed around and you only take small amounts of food, your nerves ratcheting high with every passing second.

“Not hungry?” Sam asks, looking at you.

“No, we had a big catering thing at work and I overate. I really just brought food as an excuse to see Bucky.” You shrug with a glance at the man next to you. He gives you a cheeky smile in reply, his perfect eyes crinkling in the corner, a genuine smile full of affection that you wish you could return.

“Well, you can use that excuse any time. Natasha grins, biting into an egg roll.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your water. They start asking you questions, what you do, where you’re from, how’d you meet Bucky.

They’re easy enough to answer and for a moment, you’re distracted. But then you remember your situation and you sit back from your plate. Bucky takes your hand under the table, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back.

Everyone eats until the food is gone, even tiny little Natasha Romanoff packs away the lo mein.

“You can stay for a movie, right?” Sam narrows his eyes at you.

“Depends. What movie is it?” You ask.

“Bucky’s never seen James Bond, so we’re starting with the first one.” Wanda says, pushing herself up and carrying her plate to the sink.

“I’ll stay.” You nod, standing and grabbing yours and Bucky’s plates.

“Just pile them in the sink, Y/N. They can wait.” Tony calls and everyone files into the living room, settling on the comfortable couches.

You slide down next to Bucky and he shifts you against his side comfortably. “I missed you.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I missed you, too.” You mumble.

“Long day?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm gently.

You nod, faking a yawn. “And I have to be up early tomorrow. Stupid budget meeting.” You roll your eyes as Tony starts the movie.

“You don’t have to stay long. I’m just glad you came.” He smiles.

Instead of replying, you rest your head on his shoulder. Wanda starts the movie and you don’t have to wait long. About ten minutes into the movie, Sam starts to snore, his head tilted back awkwardly against the headrest. They all fall like dominoes shortly after that.

Bucky’s fighting it, his eyes drop closed before flying open again. You look up at him, feeling each time he jerks himself awake.

“Bucky? You okay?” You whisper, heart breaking in your chest for him.

“Mhm.” He hums, rubbing his eyes.

“If you’re tired, it’s okay. You guys had a long mission.” You mumble, brushing his hair back gently.

“Feel like a jerk.” He manages and you kiss his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it.”

His eyes drift close and his head drops back onto the love seat cushion. You grab a pillow and carefully lift his head to support it better. His eyes flutter again and you pause, watching him carefully. But they stay closed and you sigh in relief.

Easing yourself up and away from him, you grab another pillow and prop it under Sam’s head so that he doesn’t get a neck ache in the morning. Natasha and Wanda have shared the couch, laying at opposite ends, both soundly asleep. You pull the blanket off the back and drape it over them, tucking them in.

Tony is in an armchair, not much you can do for him there, but you cover him with a soft blanket, your stomach twisting into knots.

You wash the dishes quickly, getting rid of any evidence, placing them back in the cabinet. You gather up all the trash back into the delivery bag and set it on the counter.

Turning to Bucky, you wipe away at the tears that are collecting in your eyes. You really love this man. It hasn’t been long, but he’s treated you better than anyone else in your life. And if something could be both the hardest, and the easiest-it would be this.

You make your way back over, carefully sliding your hand into his pocket for his wallet. You find Tony’s lab card and make your way to the hallway.

“Your boyfriend is going on a mission tomorrow with the rest of the freaks. When he gets back, you’re going to show up, the loving girlfriend, with enough food for all of them.” The man in black instructs. He grips your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. “This goes in the food. It’ll knock them all out so you won’t be disturbed. Even your super freak boyfriend can’t fight it.” He grins, holding up a vial of liquid.

“You’re crazy.” You snap, twisting your chin out of his tight grasp.

He sighs loudly. “I can see we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” He shakes his head and opens a laptop screen. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to use this option.” He turns the screen around and your eyes widen.

“No.” You gasp.

The building is so quiet, eerily silent with everyone being passed out in the living room. You’ve memorized the layout, you know which way you’re supposed to go. But your feet drag. You don’t want to do this. Every cell in your body is fighting against it, against betraying him.

The glass doors slide open noiselessly and you step inside. You almost wish one of them would catch you. It would be a relief to not be able to finish, but you know they won’t.

You find the right terminal and plug in the external hard drive. Tapping away at the keyboard, it doesn’t take you long to find the right file. You make a copy of it, doing what you can to ease your conscience before leaving.

You’re tempted to stop in and see Bucky, just to look at him one last time, as though that would stop your heart from breaking. But you don’t.

You can’t.

You leave the building in a hurry, anxious to be done with this whole thing. A part of you believes that you won’t be seeing the sunrise. But they aren’t kind enough for that. As you pass one, you toss the trash in a dumpster, further obliterating the evidence.

The coffee shop is unfamiliar to you. It’s far from your apartment, so the anonymity is a bonus.

You slide into a booth, tipping your cup right side up. The waitress comes over, filling the cup. “Can I get you anything?” She asks in a bored tone.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.” You answer automatically. You tongue is like cotton, your stomach churning with guilt and anxiety. There’s no way you could eat, even if you wanted to.

You don’t have to wait long, your hands have barely started to warm from the cup when a big man eases into the seat across from you.

“You’ve done well.” He praises.

You can feel your face twist in disgust. A compliment from him is about to make you sick. “I’ve got your stupid thing. I’m free to go now?” You ask hotly.

“Sure. Not like we don’t know where to find you if we need you again.” He grins wickedly at you. A wolf looking at a sheep.

You set the flash drive on the table and launch yourself out of your seat, rushing for the door. You need to escape, get out of the city.

A stop at the ATM empties your bank account, and then you’re a whirlwind, throwing clothes into your suitcases. There’s only one thought in your head: escape.

Escape those awful men. Escape your betrayal. Escape the hurt you’ve just caused to Bucky, his wrath when he finds out. But you deserve those things, his hatred and anger. You could take that because you deserve it.

But those men, they’re only out to cause more pain, to make you cause pain. And you can’t put up with that.

You hail a cab, planning on never returning to your apartment again. You’ll become a shadow if you have to. Somehow.

Your chest aches, but you have to do it. You have to say goodbye.

Bucky

He paces the length of his quarters, listening to the ringing phone on the other end. You must be at work or something. He hangs up with a sigh.

He can’t believe they all passed out on you last night. What you must think of them.

“Sergeant Barnes, Mr. Stark would like to see you in his lab.” FRIDAY comes on the overhead.

“Sure. I’ll be right down.” He leaves his room and heads for the third floor entrance.

Stark is pacing, sharp pivots and staccato heel to toe steps. His face is turning various shades of red. He’s pissed.

“Tony?” Bucky starts.

“What do you think you were doing?” He asks instantly.

“I’m lost. What are you talking about?” Bucky frowns.

“Last night, you came into my lab and accessed the Dresden File.” He snaps.

“Last night? We were all together last night. I don’t even know what that file is.”

“Oh right. And I’m just supposed to believe that you also didn’t make a copy of it and take it out of this building?” He crosses his arms defensively.

“Tony, I haven’t left the grounds since we got home yesterday afternoon. And why would I take one of your stupid files anywhere?” Bucky fires back.

“Well, explain how your access card was used to get in here, then. Hmm?” He demands.

“I dunno, genius. Have you tried pulling up the surveillance cameras?”

“I... I was just waiting for them to download.” He huffs, turning his back on the former soldier.

Bucky rolls his eyes. He might not be caught up on everything modern, but he sure as shit knows that you don’t have to download security footage.

They both peer at the screen as you enter the lab. Bucky’s blood freezes in his veins as he watches you steal from Stark.

“What’s in the file that she took?” Bucky asks through clenched teeth.

“A weapon. Or at the very least, it can be used as a weapon if modified correctly.” Tony looks up at him. “If she sells it,” he trails off unnecessarily.

Bucky knows exactly what will happen. You better hope he can’t find you.

Bucky marches out of the lab and straight for the front door. He heads straight for you apartment, which isn’t smart; if you had any brains at all you wouldn’t be there. How can you do this to him? There has to be some kind of mistake, or misunderstanding.

You love him, you wouldn’t do this to him. Or maybe after 80 years in captivity, he’s forgotten how to read people. You were just a lie, a beautiful lie.

He pounds on your front door, nearly kicking it down but you don’t answer. He easily picks the lock, his anger and desperation warring inside him. He needs there to be some logic reason that you’ve done this.

Maybe it wasn’t really you. Maybe it’s like what Wanda does, an illusion. Someone making them think that it’s you.

The door swings open as his phone rings. He steps inside, answering it. “What, Stark?”

Your apartment is a mess. Chairs tipped over, dishes broken on the floor. The cushions on the couch have been tossed.

“She emptied her bank account late last night. She’s gone.”

“See if you can follow her on security cameras when she leaves the building. Find out where she went.” He says with a sigh.

How can a guy be so wrong?

***

The knock on your motel room door nearly sends you into a heart attack. You rise silently from the chair and creep to the door. If it’s those guys again, you don’t know how you’re going to get away. You’ve already refused maid service, no one knows you’re here.

You look out the peep hole and your heart somersaults in your chest. You should have been expecting this, you should have known he wouldn’t let it go. Doesn’t make what you’re about to do any easier.

You square your shoulders, take a deep breath. Its for his own good. You swing open the door, your face cold and detached. “What do you want?” You mutter.

“Are you kidding me?” He pushes his way into your room, taking in the dingy walls and ugly carpet. “Where is it?” He rounds on you, his handsome face contorted in pain. Maybe rage?

“Where is what?” You sigh.

He surges forward, grabbing your arms and shaking you. “Don’t play stupid. The flash drive, Y/N. I want it back.” He snaps.

“I don’t have it anymore.” You reply dully.

“Bullshit.”

“You think I’m gonna hold onto that? Got rid of it the first chance I got.” You snap back.

“And now you’re just hiding in a shit motel in Jersey? Of all places-fucking Jersey.” He rolls his eyes.

“First stop on my farewell tour.” You mutter. “If that’s all, I’d like my arms back now.”

He shoves you away from him and you bump into the wall with more force than you were expecting. “Just... tell me why. I thought...” he trails off and your resolve nearly breaks.

“I know what you thought. That’s what made it so easy. But the truth is, I was only using you.” You say, the words managing not to break.

His face crumples and he steps away from you. “None of it was real?”

“Sorry.” You say flatly, but inside you’re shredded.

He leaves mutely, climbing onto his motorcycle and you worry about him driving home. But you can’t break now. You shut the door, cutting off your view of him and you sink to the floor.

Tony

“Boss. Sergeant Barnes has returned.” FRIDAY announces over the lab speaker. “He’s headed for his quarters.”

“Is he alone?” Tony asks, his eyes drifting to the computer screen.

“Yes.”

“When he gets there, put me through.” Tony says, spinning in his chair. Barnes had one direction. Bring back the girl, or at the very least, the stolen property.

Should’ve known he’d let his emotions get in the way. He’s just like Rogers.

The screen to his left lights up and he can see Barnes tense in the entry way. He doesn’t wanna talk.

“Where is she, Barnes?” Tony asks, digging through the computer.

“I let her go.” He mutters blankly.

“I’m sorry? You let��my thief go? You better have the files, then.” He retorts.

“She didn’t have them.” He sounds sick.

“So, now both are gone in the wind. That’s perfect. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you pulled your head out of your ass long enough to get the name of the terrorist group she sold it to!”

“Nope. Maybe this will teach you to stop making weapons.” The video clicks off and Tony shakes his fists, strangling the air, pretending unsatisfactorily that it was Bucky Barnes in his grasp.

“Dick. Prince Douche.” Tony mutters under his breath. “King Asshat.” He turns his favorite playlist on high, hoping to crush out his frustrations. The soothing tones of Black Sabbath pulses through the sound system and he gets to work, searching for whatever else Bucky’s girlfriend did to his system.

While he works, his thoughts wander.

You’re good. For someone who has never even been in this building before, you knew exactly where the lab was and what terminal to go to. You knew what you were looking for, almost like...

His Twizzler falls out of his mouth as a thought occurs to him.

Shit. He almost hopes he’s wrong.

He scrubs the rest of the files, finding just one anomaly. He backtracks the keystrokes and recreates it.

Finished, he sits back with a slump.

Oh. You’re very, very good. He bolts out of the lab and practically sprints to Bucky’s quarters, pounding on the door. Doubled over, gasping for breath-he pounds again.

“What?” Bucky snaps, yanking open his door, looking all kinds of disheveled. “Stark, do you even know what time it is?” He rubs his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. We have a problem.” Tony gasps, trying to catch his breath. He’s getting too old for this shit.

“Yeah, you need to cut back on the caffeine.” Barnes sighs.

“No. I think your super secret spy girlfriend was put up to this.”

“Tony, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Even if she’s in danger? Even if the people who did this to her come after her again?” Tony challenges.

“Stark, if she really was being put on, or blackmailed, or coerced-why wouldn’t she come to us? We’re a bunch of super freaks. We could have protected her. Think about it. She did this on her own.”

“Not necessarily. We don’t know what they blackmailed her with. Maybe she thought the threat was too much of a risk. Where is she?”

“Some piece of shit motel in Jersey. But she made it clear that she was only... that she did it on her own.” He clears his throat.

“Let me guess, while you were looking at her with those big puppy dog eyes? Yeah, no wonder she made you leave.” Tony changes direction. “Get dressed. We’re taking a trip.” He heads for Wilson’s quarters, knowing he’ll need the big bird brain as backup.

An hour later they pull up outside the motel just as you leave your room. It’s still dark outside, you should be sleeping, not leaving in the middle of the night. But here you are, bags in hand as you load them into a rental. You glance around nervously as you climb in.

“What’s she doing?” Sam leans forward, squinting.

“Looks like Barnes spooked her. If this pea brain can find her here, anyone can.” Tony reasons.

Bucky punches him in the arm, but doesn’t disagree. Tony tries not to let it show just how much it hurts.

“What do we do when we actually get her?” Sam asks.

“Get her to tell us who she gave it to. Then take them out.” Tony says simply.

“You never really said what makes you think she was blackmailed.” Bucky sighs, shifting in his seat.

“I found the file she copied. She made a copy of it on the computer first, then she removed key components. Things you have to have to make it work. Without them, these guys have scraps of paper-not enough to complete one for themselves. She transferred that second copy and that alone to the flash drive. She did everything she could to make sure they didn’t get what they wanted.” Tony half smiles. He should hire you.

“How do you know she didn’t write it down? Just to throw us off.” Barnes huffs as Tony follows you out of the parking lot.

“Cameras, Barnes. She didn’t. She deleted key sections. If she had just deleted a line or a random number, they could have figured it out with a mild genius. But she deleted pages. They have no way of knowing what was on those pages. She deleted half the design, code instructions, equations-huge chunks of vitally important information. It’s useless to them now. But I’d certainly feel better knowing who they are in case they try again.”

They follow you from a distance, confused as you leave New Jersey going south. You should have been going back to the city, not away from it.

***

It’s hard. Hard to remember that you need to drive the speed limit, hard to forget Bucky’s face as you lied to him. That look will haunt you until you die. Maybe one day you’ll have a chance to tell him the truth.

Maybe it won’t matter if you do.

Your eyes itch. It’s been a long three days. But you can’t close them yet. No rest for the wicked.

You pull into another gas station, heading inside. Cash only, and you could use about five more Red Bull’s. You grab a variety of energy drinks; Monsters, Red Bull’s, Jolts, Nos. The guy behind the counter stares at you as he rings you up.

“Too much of these ain’t good for ya, sweetheart. Make your heart give out.” He says conversationally.

“That’s the plan. Gimme thirty on pump four.” You add, sliding the cash over.

He hands you your bag and you pop the top on one of the heart attacks in a can as you start the pump. You chug half the drink while your tank fills. You climb back in the safety of your car, slapping your face roughly.

Flipping the visor down, you glare at your haggard reflection. “Wake up. You have a fucking job to do.” You point your finger.

You turn your music back on, blasting it loud enough to rattle the windows and you pull out of the lot, heading back for the highway.

Christ, your eyes itch. They feel like sand is in them every time you blink. You can’t stop, can’t slow down. You might already be too late-no. You can’t think like that. Bucky can’t lose anyone else.

It’s dark by the time you finally pull into the nursing home lot. You pull into a spot near the door, taking a moment to check your appearance.

Death warmed up. Perfect. You smooth out your hair before giving up. After two days of solid travel, there was no fixing this. You twist slowly in your seat, looking at every car in the lot, searching for people in them, something to hint at being watched.

Nothing, empty. You climb out and head inside the quiet lobby.

It’s almost empty, the desk clerk and one other person, sitting nervously off to the side.

“Chuck?” You ask, turning toward him.

He looks up and nods. “Y/N?”

You take a brief second to think about all the faces you’ve seen, but he wasn’t one. And looking closer, you can see Bucky’s eyes, the statuesque angle of his nose.

Yes, this is who you’re looking for.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me. I know this is strange.” You sigh, stepping forward.

“You said something about danger.”

“I would feel better if we could speak in your grandmother’s room. It’s a little more private.” You say pointedly.

“Right.”

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button. “Are you okay, Y/N? You look exhausted.” Chuck comments.

“I’ll be alright.” You wave him off as the doors open.

“I’m surprised you know who this is.” The man chuckles. “Barnes’ sister. She lives in a home in Savannah. Abandoned by her family, left unprotected. So easily eliminated. She sits in front of this window day and night, reading. One well placed bullet if you don’t do what we say, well, it’s goodnight, Vienna.” He grins wickedly. “You don’t want this old lady’s death on your conscience, do you?”

“You’re a monster.” You curse, spitting at his feet. The men around him laugh.

“Maybe you have no feelings about dear old Becky. That’s alright, there’s always plan B, or is it part 2? Who’s to say we won’t kill both of them?” He changes the picture and your eyes fill with tears.

No.

“I can see we have a deal.” He smirks, caressing your cheek.

Chuck pushes open the door and enters comfortably. You slide against the wall, keeping clear of the windows.

“Charles?” Rebecca looks up, a beautiful smile crossing her face for her grandson.

“Hey, nana. How are you feeling?” He asks, bending down to kiss her cheek.

“Ready to run a marathon.” She grins. “Visiting hours are over, sweetheart. What are you doing here so late?”

“Nana, this is Y/N. She’s a friend of Uncle James’. She thinks you might be in danger.” He says, gesturing to you.

“Danger? From who? Surely you don’t think my brother-“

“No, ma’am. Your brother doesn’t know I’m here.” You say. “He’s, well, he doesn’t really know about this. I couldn’t tell him before I left.” You wrinkle your forehead in hopeless frustration.

How to explain this?

“Charles, give me a minute with her.” Rebecca says, shooing him out the door.

“Alright, I’ll be outside.” He smiles fondly at her before leaving.

“Have a seat, dear.” She gestures to the bed, but you avoid crossing the window, instead sitting at the small table. “Tell me what happened, from the beginning.” She urges, taking your hand.

“I’ve done something terrible. Your brother trusted me and I had to betray it. There were these men, they wanted something from your brother’s job and they forced me to get it. If I didn’t, they would have killed you, and someone else. I couldn’t do that to Bucky, not when he just got you back.”

“And why are you here now?” She asks.

“To warn you. To make sure you’re protected. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. He loves you too much and he has so little good in his life. And after what I did... he’s going to need you.” You say, a thick lump of emotions choking your throat.

You know Bucky is lost to you. But she doesn’t have to be lost to him. “If I can give him this, it will make it a little easier to bear.”

She studies your face for a long minute in silence. “You love him.” She states finally.

“Yes. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I had to ruin it, to make him hate me. For his own protection. Now they can’t use me again.”

She’s quiet again, thoughtful. “Alright. What do you need me to do?” She asks, leaning forward in her chair.

“Go with your family. Stay safe. Call Bucky and tell him you think people have been watching you, you’ve seen suspicious men around the building. He’ll come keep you safe.” Your voice cracks and a tear slips down your cheek.

“And if he doesn’t? I’m an old woman. I’ve lived my life.” She raises her chin a fraction of an inch.

“A life without your brother. Now you have a chance to share memories with him. To help him heal from all that time and trauma. You’re his family Rebecca. He talks about you all the time, shares stories about your family-his family. He’s so happy knowing he can just talk to you whenever. He thought that would never be possible. His whole face lights up when he mentions you. He’ll be there. He’ll protect you, I know it like I know my own name.” You promise. “Please? Stay safe for him?”

She squeezes your hand, surprisingly strong for a woman in her nineties. “I promise, darling. What about this other person you mentioned?”

“I’m going to him next. But I had to make sure you were safe first.”

“I hope you can fix things with my brother. He’s lucky to have someone so strong.”

“Hardly. I don’t think it’s possible to fix this. Thank you for listening. It’s an honor to meet you.” You stand up and press a soft kiss to her weathered cheek. “I’ll send Charles back in.” You head for the door, opening it gently.

“She agree?” He asks.

You nod with a sigh. “Thanks for listening and not thinking I’m crazy.”

“Good luck. There’s a motel down the road if you wanna catch some sleep.” He says and you shake your head.

“Thanks. But I gotta keep moving. I have another appointment to keep.”

He bends down and kisses your cheek, surprising you. “Be safe. Thanks for looking out for us.”

You squeeze his hand and turn away. At least they can be safe.

The window is rolled down as you pull back onto the highway. It feels good on your face and you crank the music to help you stay awake.

Savannah isn’t that far from FSU, your next destination. Just a couple more hours. You can do it.

You pop the top on your last Red Bull and chug half of it, hoping it’s enough.

The sunlight creeps over the horizon just as you reach the outer most limits of Tallahassee. You’ll reach campus just in time for classes.

You feel a sense of calm, despite your new energy drink addiction-the light at the end of the tunnel is in sight, so to speak.

You find the campus easily, pulling through to the main building. Christ, you hope you can catch him in time. As you reach to unbuckle your seatbelt, you spot him.

That beautiful, annoying boy that you’ll never complain about again.

“Your brother, he’s in his final year at Florida State University, isn’t he? Captain of the football team, maintaining a perfect 4.0 gpa. I believe his favorite teacher is Mrs. Yaira Morrison. She teaches his history class at one o’clock on Tuesday and Thursday.” The man says with a twisted smile.

Your chest heaves, watching your baby brother on the screen. They have you and they know it.

“What do you want me to do?” You mutter, wishing Death by a Thousand Cuts on him and his party of villains.

“See? I knew we could count on her!” He claps his hands enthusiastically.

You lurch out of your car, legs wobbly from lack of sleep, proper food, and being immobile for too long. You rush towards him, shouting his name. He’s too far away to hear you, but you know you can catch him, you have to warn him.

A body steps in front of you, blocking your way between the cars. You move to step around them, thinking for half a second that it’s just a student getting out of their vehicle. They block you again and you take a second look, recognizing his face in horror.

“Don’t make me chase you.” He warns, but you’re already taking off between the cars, trying to find a way back to yours.

But no, that wouldn’t be safe either. They had to have followed you here. Before you can think further on it, arms grab you from behind and your head is bashed against the hood of a truck, everything going black.

Bucky

There is absolutely nothing worse than listening to two grown men bicker like school boys.

“I can’t believe you lost her.” Sam snaps at Tony.

“Me? You were supposed to be watching her car! I was focusing on not dying in Florida traffic. How do people live this way?”

“I told you not to take 75.” Sam retorts. Bucky can almost recite this argument word for word now.

“Don’t take 75? She took 75! What was I supposed to do? Take a different highway and hope we end up in the same place?”

“Or don’t drive like a damn grandma! I see why Happy drives you everywhere.” Sam shoots back and Tony’s face gets beet red.

“Take it back.” He demands.

“No.” Sam crosses his arms.

“Take. It. Back.”

“Make me, grandma.”

“Take this exit, Stark.” Bucky mutters. That puts a brief pause to their squabbling. You’ve had them driving for days on end and they’re all exhausted. How you haven’t passed out yet is a miracle.

“Why?”

“Because I know where she’s going and if you drive the actual speed limit, we can make it there before tomorrow.” Bucky fires and Tony glares at him.

“Where’s she going?” Sam asks, leaning back in his seat, thrilled that someone else was taking shots at Tony, too.

“FSU. Her brother goes there. If she’s being blackmailed, chances are it’s with his life.” He sighs. He wishes, not for the first time, that you had just confided in him. He would have found a way to make your brother safe, to make you safe.

His phone rings in his pocket and he pulls it out to see his sister’s picture smiling up at him. His heart tugs fondly at the photo. “Becky?” He starts. Something’s wrong. He sensed it when he realized you drove directly past his sister’s assisted living building. That was no coincidence.

“Bucky, I met a friend of yours last night. Lovely girl.” She starts off casually, no sense of concern in her weathered voice.

“Y/N? You met her?” He asks with a frown. Why would you have gone to see his sister?

“I did. She came to warn me about this danger that I seem to be in.” He’s alert in his seat now, all sense of weariness gone.

“Danger? Rebecca! Why didn’t you call me immediately?” He demands.

“Well, because I’ve thought about it, and I’ll do what she says-go on a trip with my kids. But I won’t do the second bit.” She says stubbornly and he presses his metal fingers to his forehead.

“What second bit?” He sighs.

“She said that I should tell you I’m being followed, that I’m in danger so that you’ll come here. But,”

“I will!” He insists.

“But I think she’s in more danger than I am. She mentioned someone else was being threatened, someone she cares about.”

“Her brother. We’re already aware.”

“Oh, good. Then, you’re also aware that she loves you?” Rebecca says and he can just picture her squinting at him suspiciously, like she might hit him with her slipper if he gets the answer wrong. Just like his ma used to.

“Not according to her.”

“Ah, my brother, the idiot.” She sighs wistfully and he cracks a small smile.

“What else did she tell you?” He asks.

“That she wanted to keep me safe and protected for you. She didn’t want you to lose anyone else. That she had to make you hate her for your own protection. And she doesn’t think she’ll be able to fix things with you.” She’s quiet for a minute. “But if the circumstances were different, Bucky. If she did what she did out of fear, out of loyalty and wanting to protect a complete stranger just to make one man happy-doesn’t that change things, big brother? She’s not entirely lost to you.” She finishes and he can’t force the lump in his throat to move enough to choke out words. “Just, just think about it, alright? I promised her I would keep myself safe for you. Now I need you to promise to keep her safe.”

He clears his throat roughly. “Promise.”

“Call me when it’s done.” She says. “I love you.” She hangs up and Bucky drops the phone into his lap, rubbing his face.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks from the back seat.

“They threatened my sister, too. That’s why we were right there last night. Y/N went to go see Rebecca, to warn her. You were right, Stark.” He sighs dejectedly.

He thought he was better at reading people. But you lied so easily to him and he fell for it. How had he missed every micro expression telling him that something wasn’t right?

“So, we really need to find her, then.” Tony says, stepping on the gas.

“Finally.” Sam mutters under his breath.

The campus is huge. They circle and circle and circle, looking for your car. Twice, they think they spot it, but checking it out further reveals no luggage in the back.

“Maybe we missed her? Maybe she got to him and left already?” Sam suggests.

“Wait, is that it?” Tony points to one of the back rows of cars.

“Didn’t we pass that one already?” Sam asks, confused.

“Only one way to find out.” Bucky grumbles, already launching himself out of the car. His heart thuds to a stop when he sees your luggage in the back seat, empty energy drink cans littering the floor. He waves them over.

“This it?” Tony asks.

“Yeah, pull up that fancy camera hacking thing and follow her. See if she’s inside the school so we don’t have to spend hours walking around looking for her.” Bucky says.

Tony pulls out his tablet, sets it on the dark hood of the car and types a few command strokes. Bucky hovers over his shoulder, breathing down his neck, really irritating the older man.

“Back off, man.” Tony elbows his ribs uselessly as the cameras rewind. He might as well have hit a brick for all the pain it causes him. There are several different angles across the massive parking lots and the interior courtyards. Plus the interior hallways and classrooms. There’s almost too much to watch, but they have to.

Tony finds your car pulling in and he slows down to watch where you park. It’s a tense silence as they watch you get out, heading across the lot before someone cuts you off. He blocks out the rest of the screens, making this one camera the focus.

Bucky’s stomach seems to fill with lead as you take off running, despite how exhausted you must feel. The man chases you, but Bucky can see what you can’t. You’re not running away, you’re being herded. Another man, massive compared to you, grabs you from behind-a blitz attack-and he smashes your head into the hood of another car. It’s hard enough of a hit to leave a dent in the car.

It’s an extremely good thing that Bucky isn’t holding onto anything, or he would have broken it.

Before he can even speak, Tony is already working. A car pulls up and you’re loaded inside. Tony captures the license plate and dismisses the camera, opting for another program.

Bucky paces behind his friends, knowing anything he would say isn’t going to be helpful. His mind is racing, faster than he can even process what exactly he’s thinking.

You should have come to him. You should have trusted him. How can you love him and not trust him? Of all the things he wants to say to you, this thought burns hardest in his throat.

What were you thinking?

“What do you think they want with her?” Sam frowns, glancing at both of them.

“Revenge.” Bucky mutters, his skin turning cold at the thought of you being hurt by their hands.

“The file.” Tony offers as an alternative. “Maybe they think she has another copy of it, or access to it again. Might buy her some time.” He glanced at Bucky, but he hardly hears him.

“Where is she, Stark?” Bucky asks tersely.

“Cameras are following their car, and I’m running facial recognition.” Tony says, but it doesn’t really soothe Bucky.

“Here. Get in. We can follow the map they’re making and maybe meet them there.” Sam suggests, taking the keys.

Tony climbs in the front seat where Bucky had been, Sam drives and Bucky sits in the back, his nerves ratcheting higher with every passing second that he’s not smashing their faces in.

“Got them.” Tony comments, typing furiously on his keyboard. The constant clicking is begging to grate on Bucky’s last nerve.

Sam follows the route highlighted on the dash screen, and at least he’s driving like a human. You’ve been in their grasp too long and it’s making Bucky irrationally anxious to not be able to see you. It’s strange that just ten hours ago, he never wanted to see you again. Now he can’t wait to get you back in his hands.

“There’s an old camera system in the building that they took her to. It’s half an hour away and they have a bit of a head start. I’m back hacking it now.” Tony says.

“You know no one says that anymore, right? No one calls it hacking. And back hacking is hacking someone that already hacked you.” Sam squints at him suspiciously. “Do you even know what a computer is?” He asks, swerving around a car going much too slow in the zoom-zoom lane.

“Better than you do, Bird Brain.” Tony snaps. “Got it.” The display changes and Bucky stares in horror. Sam inches the needle towards 100.

***

The thud pulses in your ears as the buzzing sting spreads slowly across your cheek. Another thud, more stinging as the blood surges to the surface of your face. The restraints around your wrists pull roughly as you’re shifted in the metal chair.

You don’t make a sound, happy to take this punishment. You deserve this for hurting Bucky, and if they’re this mad-they couldn’t recover the missing parts of the file. Even better.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader sighs, pacing behind his man. His fingers are steepled against the bridge of his nose as he sighs loudly. “I was told that Stark had a fully functional, working blueprint. What you gave me is useless.”

His brute swings his open hand again, the force of his slap twisting your head to the side. Your eyes water and your cheek heats up to the point of burning. The man grabs a fistful of your hair and turns your head back to face forward with a low chuckle. Your face feels heavy, sluggish as the excess blood rushes there.

“Where’s the rest of it?” The leader demands. You remain silent, willing to take the pain. Nothing can be worse than the feeling of being forced to betray Bucky. He sighs loudly, nodding to someone off to your left. “Here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go back to Stark’s lab. You’re gonna get the full file. You’re gonna promptly deliver it back to me.”

“No.” You say simply.

“No? That’s funny. It sounds like you think you have a choice.” He tilts his head and another man steps forward. This new man, half hidden in shadows, takes a drag off a cigarette, the burning end flaring bright burnt orange in the darkness. With an exhale of smoke, the shadow man presses the cigarette to the fleshy underside of your forearm.

You grit back a scream, but as he twists it in the raw wound, it’s too much and the sound rips from your throat.

“We’ll give you some time to reconsider your choice.” The leader sneers, nodded to the others. They exit, leaving you alone with the shadow man.

He lights the cigarette again, the smell of your flesh burning floats around you, making you sick. He doesn’t ask you any questions, doesn’t talk to you. He just puts out the cigarette on your skin, any exposed spot he can find.

He braces his hands on your burned forearms, squeezing tightly. You scream again, the tears falling freely. You can admit it hurts, but you still won’t give them what they want.

You can’t.

He chuckles, blowing the smoke in your face as the bright ember flares just inches from your face. Slowly, he removes the cigarette trapped between his lips and floats his hand around, trying to decide where to burn you next.

“Ah.” He smiles softly, brushing hair back from your neck carefully, almost tenderly. You try to contain the whimper, but fail miserably. He pulls down the neck of your shirt, exposing your collarbone before pushing the burning point to the flesh just below.

You scream, thrashing against your restraints. You sob, trying to breathe against it. Doesn’t matter what they do to you, you won’t do what they want.

The door opens behind him and another man steps through. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I don’t know how people can be cannibals. The smell is awful.” He laughs, clapping your torturer on the shoulder. “Brought you some more tools.” He places more cigarette cartons in the man’s hand. You whimper involuntarily and he grins, looking down at you.

“Ready to make a deal, sweetheart?” He asks lightly. You spit your answer at his feet. “Perfect. I love when they scream.” He shifts your shirt, his eyes turning thoughtful. “Well, she needs to be symmetrical. Every work of art is symmetrical, and you, my friend, are nothing if not an artist.” He smirks, stepping back.

The shadow man lights up again, taking a couple puffs before pressing it to your skin again, this time under your opposite collarbone.

Another scream tears through your lips as you fight against him with his rough hands and disgusting pleasure at your pain.

“Oh, one last one before we call the boss in, huh?” The newcomer suggests, pulling a cigar case out of his pocket. “It’s Cuban.” He teases, holding it out like an offering.

The shadow man takes it with a crooked grin and snips the end, smelling it appreciatively. He lights the end and takes a big drag off it. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest. This one is so much bigger than the others, a nickel compared to a pencil eraser.

He bites the end between his teeth and motions to his friend for a pair of scissors. His friend pulls out a pocket knife and the fear spikes through you for real this time. You thought they just wanted to torture you into compliance, but if they were planning something worse, you couldn’t fight against them killing you.

He bends over in front of you, ashes falling on your thighs. He taps the sharp blade against your right thigh, and then your left, as though unable to decide. He taps your right palm, his eyes widening in mock fear. Then he taps your left palm, nicking the heel of your hand. Then he drags the tip lightly up your arm, inside your elbow, up to your shoulder.

The blade is next to your thudding pulse and all it would take it just one quick flick and you’d be dead.

But instead, he drags the tip along your collarbone and down along your sternum. One thrust and it would puncture your heart. Lights out. No more Y/N. You would never be able to tell Bucky how sorry you are, or how much you love him.

But you saved his sister. You can rest in peace with that knowledge.

You close your eyes, fixing Bucky’s beautiful face in front of you so he’s the last thing you see.

The tip of the blade presses into your sternum, breaking through the fabric of your shirt. But instead of going further, he holds that delicate balance.

And then he slides the blade up, slicing through your shirt like a hot knife through butter. He yanks when it gets to the seam at the collar, clipping your chin with the end of it.

You yelp in surprise at not being dead and blood drips from your chin. He puffs a few more times on the cigar before spreading your ripped shirt and pressing between the valley of your breasts.

You scream through a sob as he burns you, holding the extinguished cigar in your wound. The door opens and the leader steps through, wiping his hands dry.

“How’s our guest? Ready to reconsider?” He asks pleasantly.

Rage makes you spiteful. You can’t wait to throw anything you can in his face.

“Doesn’t matter what I say. You blew your shot.” You laugh, slightly hysterical. “Barnes knows what I did. I’m never getting near that building again. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Not for you, not for the next scumbag, or the next one. You might as well just kill me. I should have told you that from the beginning.” You slump back in your seat, shivering slightly at the clammy sweat that’s broken out across your skin from the torture.

Oh, how you wish you’d been strong enough to tell him to fuck off from the start. You might be a day late and a dollar short, but you’ll be damned if you don’t do the right thing this time.

Bucky will know about his sister by now, she’ll be safe and protected, him by her side where he should be.

Your brother... your eyes fill reluctantly with tears as you think about your younger brother, just starting his life. He’s smart, hopefully smart enough to stay away from this mess, no matter what happens to you now.

“There are plenty of other people to do your job.” He snarls, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a large silver gun, a revolver as far as you can tell. “See this?” He asks, pointing the barrel right between your eyes. You can feel the cold from the metal, just centimeters from your skin.

“Hard not to.” You manage.

“It’s my favorite. Smith and Wesson’s 460XVR 45 Colt. Gonna leave a hole the size of a potato in the back of your head from this distance.” He hefts the gun experimentally and you try not to flinch, his finger too close to the trigger for comfort. He turns to look at his men. “Feels a little unsportsmanlike to shoot a girl like this, doesn’t it?”

“A bit, boss.”

He turns back to me. “So, let’s play a game. I’m sure you’re familiar.” He releases the cylinder and dumps out the bullets. Your stomach flip flops uncomfortably.

He’s gonna drag this out as long as possible. It’s still part of the torture. He holds up one bullet and slides it in, snapping the cylinder shut as he spins it.

“How about it? Feel like getting my file now?” He asks, leveling the gun back at your forehead.

You close your eyes, picturing Bucky’s face. The way he kissed you before everything went to shit, the smile he’d save just for you.

The hammer clicks, but nothing happens. Empty. Tears slip out, stinging the cuts on your cheek, and you have another moment to remember how much you love Bucky Barnes. His beautiful blue eyes, his perfect lopsided smile, his laugh.

“How about now?” The cruel voice demands.

You murmur Bucky’s name. A quiet prayer, something beautiful and bright among the darkness surrounding you. You can almost feel his soft hair under your fingertips as he kissed you against your front door that last night. The night he told you he loved you.

Click.

Another moment spared. The man chuckles, gripping your chin tightly and your entire face throbs in pain. “Your luck is running out, little girl. Make your choice.” He snarls.

“I have. You lose.” You sigh, eyes still closed. “Bucky, I love you.” You barely whisper, lips moving just a fraction. You don’t say it for anyone else, just yourself.

Bucky will never know. You’ll die here, with him thinking you were a cold hearted bitch. And that’s okay, because you were able to give him his family back. And you can live with that. So to speak. He might never even know you’re dead. Just that you left.

And that’s okay, too. Better really for him to move on.

The cold muzzle and front sight press roughly against your forehead, tearing at the skin there.

“I don’t lose.” He growls.

There’s a loud banging noise, making you jump. The gun disappears from your face and it takes you a long second to realize you’re not dead. And then to realize there’s a violent fight progressing in front of you.

Slowly you open your eyes to see three familiar men fighting your three torturers. Sam is fighting the shadow man, Tony-his companion. Bucky is fighting the leader, with the gun.

Bucky’s metal hand is holding onto the wrist with the gun while his right hand is trying to strike at the man with a long, silver knife. The man backs up quickly, trying to stay out of the reach of the wicked knife, but he trips, falling backward and taking Bucky with him, the gun between them.

There’s a muffled boom, like a cannon and both men freeze on the floor. You scream for Bucky, fighting against your restraints, unable to move, unable to check on him, sobbing with fear and frustration.

Slowly, unsure, he lifts himself up, glancing down at his chest, hole-free. Carefully, he walks over to you, kneeling in front of you as both Sam and Tony subdue their adversaries.

He’s okay. He’s alive.

He cups your face gently, like he’s cradling a delicate bubble. Carefully, softly, he brushes away your tears before cutting your wrists free. His eyes linger on the burns, a dozen on each arm and you pull them back from his inspection. The movement hurts, but no worse than seeing his face, knowing what he must think of you.

“Why are you here?” You ask quietly.

“I thought I made myself pretty clear.” He frowns. “I distinctly remember saying I love you.” He smiles gently.

“You’re supposed to be with your sister. She needs you.” You protest. “You’re not... you shouldn’t... not after what I did. I’m not...” you trail off, your throat tight as a tidal wave of emotions crash over you.

“Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. We can talk about this later. We need to get you looked at.” He shakes his head. He holds out his hand for me to take, but you can’t bear it, so you use the arms of the chair to push yourself up. You sway on the spot, your body aching, dizzy with pain.

Bucky catches you before you can fall, lifting you gently, holding you against his broad chest. You close your eyes, trying to fight the tears as he carries you out of the building behind his two friends. Sam and Tony are leading our their prisoners, taking a certain amount of pleasure each time they trip.

“You needed me more.” He whispers after a minute.

“What?” You frown.

“You said Becky needed me. But you needed me more.” His eyes drop to your neck, the burns there and your split shirt. A growl rumbles low in his chest and he shifts you closer.

He sets you carefully in the back seat, climbing in next to you. He pulls you against his side and you resist slightly, feeling guilty. You were cruel to him. He shouldn’t just forgive you, not like that. You betrayed his trust, took his heart and threw it back in his face. You don’t deserve him, his love, his comfort, or his forgiveness.

“Y/N?” He starts quietly as Sam and Tony cram the two men into the trunk, lingering behind the car. Probably to give you some privacy.

“How can you stand to be near me? After what I said to you... you should’ve just let me...” you squeeze your eyes shut, so you miss him flinch.

“At first, I was just gonna pretend you did. But then Tony found out what you did to the file. He’s the one who figured it out, what was really going on. And then Becky called. She really likes you.” He says with a fond smile. “We were already on our way to Florida to get you. I’m sorry we were almost too late.” He whispers, his thumb brushing your cheek again.

“How did you find me?” You ask, anything to keep him talking.

“Tony found out where they had taken you and got into the camera system. We tuned in just in time to see the cigarettes...” his jaw locks shut for a moment and you can feel him struggling. “I nearly lost my mind when he pulled out the gun.”

Sam and Tony climb back in, effectively cutting off your conversation. Bucky tries one more time to hold you, but you can’t let him. The image of his face as he left your motel room haunts you.

You don’t deserve him, no matter your reasons for doing what you did. There’s a special place in hell for hurting someone as good as Bucky.

“Samuel, to the airport, please.” Tony says pompously. He flips down his visor and catches your eye, smiling. “Do you drive in Florida a lot?” He asks randomly.

“I grew up here.”

“How did you survive? The roads down here are insane.”

“Says the guy who lives in the city with some of the worst drivers in the world.” You return, your heart not really into the banter.

“Your brother’s safe.” Bucky mumbles, his hand twitching towards you. “We alerted the police.”

You glance back at him and nod before turning to look out the window. You just need a minute alone, to think, to process, to cry. You need to figure out what to say to Bucky so he can see that he needs to leave.

***

The jet isn’t spacious enough to give you space, and they never leave your side at the airport.

Bucky sits next to you on the plane, keeping you far from the two men. That’s easy, you want to be around them just as much as he wants you around them.

You can feel him staring at you, the words bubbling up to your memory easily, but you don’t want to say them.

The plane lands at JFK and he sighs softly, helping you stand. He leads you out to one of the two waiting cars. You glance back at Tony and Sam, but they’re already getting into the other car with their prisoners.

“Guess you’re stuck with me.” Bucky says off-handedly.

“Other way around.” You say, climbing in. You start to pull the door closed but he catches it easily.

“Y/N. I know why you did what you did. I know it wasn’t your fault, or your choice. I can’t imagine what you went through, being forced to do all that. Because I know how you really feel. And right now, yeah, you feel like shit. It’s understandable. And that’s okay. Because I’m gonna be here to help you through it. When the nightmares start, and the panic attacks, and when you feel like you can’t stand under the weight of it all. I’m gonna be here. Because I do love you. And you might not be ready to forgive yourself yet. But I am.” He cups your face, swiping away your tears.

“You can’t.” You manage, trying to catch your breath. “Don’t you understand? If it happened once, it can happen again. I’m a liability to you, to Tony, to what you do.”

“Bullshit. Because next time, you’re just gonna come to me and trust me to keep everyone safe. Do you even understand the amount of people at my disposal? I can call on fifty men right now to go sit on my sister’s place. And another hundred to protect your brother. And still have plenty to protect you.” His hands trail down your neck and his shoulders visibly tense. “I need to get you checked out. Then I can breathe.” He mutters, backing away and shutting your door. He walks around and climbs in next to you, taking your hand. The car starts moving and you stare at him, feeling a bit of wonder at this man.

“What?” He asks, a small smile on his face.

“You know it’s not because I didn’t trust you, right? There’s nobody I’d trust more.”

“So, why not come to me?” He frowns.

“I was afraid. I was afraid for my brother, for your sister, for you. Bucky, you’ve tried to hard to shed your past, to stop all the hurt and nightmares that Hydra caused. I didn’t want to start that cycle again. You’re so good, you deserve so much. And I hate myself for what I said to you, I truly do. But I couldn’t put you in that position to be used again.”

“Sweetheart, I would go through all of that just to have you by me again.”

“You’re certifiable.” You mutter, turning to lean back against him. He wraps his arm around you, under your arms so he doesn’t hurt you, but otherwise remains silent.

***

There’s a knock on the med room door, and you look up from your crossword puzzle to see Bucky poke his head in.

“Aren’t you sick of me yet?” You sigh, setting your book and pen on the side table.

“Nope. So, it looks like you’re free to go.” He says happily, rocking back on his heels.

“I am?” You ask, surprised.

“Yup, they said there’s no infections in your burns, and the hairline fracture in your cheekbone healed just fine.” He smiles, crossing the room.

You frown as reality settles over you. “Um,” you drop your gaze to your lap.

“What is it?” He takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

It’ll be fine. Tony has given you the best security around. Your apartment is safe. “Nothing. Just dawned on me that you won’t be right down the hall anymore.” You shrug.

He grins. “You love me.”

“You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes.

“True.” He lifts your hand to his mouth, kissing it and inhaling deeply. “Whenever you’re ready, I can take you home.” He promises.

“Right.” You let his play with your fingers for a little longer, procrastinating to the fullest extent. “How’s your sister?” You ask and he smiles.

“She’s good. Demanding that I bring you to dinner.” His grin widens, as his nose skims along the soft flesh of your wrist. “Threatened to disown me if I didn’t. Apparently, you made quite the impression.”

“I’m happy to go, with or without you.” You tease and he laughs.

“I’m not surprised.” He kisses the back of your hand one more time before setting it on your leg. “Go get dressed, doll. I’ll be right here.” He says.

You sigh dramatically and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. You can do this. It’ll be okay.

***

The creaking of the elevator sets your nerves on fire. You clench your jaw as the numbers climb. Only Bucky’s hand in yours keeps you from hyperventilating all together.

You can do this. You’re an adult.

Bucky unlocks your door for you, holding it open for you to step inside. You hesitate for a moment and his smile tightens. He steps inside first, walking through and opening doors. He makes quick work of checking your whole apartment before coming back to you.

“Clear.” He promises.

Your vision gets blurry, but you fight the tears, forcing yourself to step across the threshold. How can you trust this place? How can this be home ever again?

“Let me show you the security system. I know Tony explained it, but it’s a lot to take in.” He says, wrapping you in his big arms.

“I’ll say.” Your forehead furrows together.

“He wanted you to be safe.” He turns you to the front door. “This camera allows you to see who’s outside. But, it has a camera facing inside, too. You can control that from your phone, so you can see if anyone has broken in.” He explains quietly, burying his nose in your hair. “There’s a panic button in each room. You hit that button and help is on the way.”

Bucky takes you through the apartment, showing you exactly how safe Tony has made it for you. And it helps... a bit.

But really, what you see is the kitchen chair you were tied to while people you care about were threatened.

However, Stark went to a lot of effort. And you know if you don’t at least give it a go, he’s going to whine and complain.

Bucky finished his tour back at the front door. This doesn’t feel right. You frown.

“Did you wanna stay? I can make dinner.” You offer hopefully.

“Sorry, doll. We have a mission.” He says, pulling you close. “I’ll come see you when I get back, okay?”

You nod, heart sinking. “Stay safe.” You mumble and he gently puts his finger under your chin, tilting your face up.

“Can I please, pretty please, have a smile? I need to see it.” He begs and despite how hard you want to resist, you can’t.

The corners of your mouth tug up and ride even further in response to his own teasing smile.

“There she is.” He sighs happily. “I love you so much. I’ll call you later.” He kisses you slowly, pulling you closer until he breaks away, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“Sure you can’t stay?” You sigh.

He chuckles. “Positive. I can’t miss this one.” He backs up to the door, holding your hand, unwilling to let go.

“You’re not leaving.” You remind him, secretly happy that it’s as hard for him as it is for you.

“I’m not? Feels like I have already.” He grins.

“I love you.” You mumble softly, trying to force the tears to stay in the back where they belong, at least until he leaves.

“Just what I needed to hear.” He smiles.

You roll your watery eyes and push him out into the hallway. “I don’t need Tony any angrier at me than he already is.” You stick your tongue out and shut the door in his face. Otherwise you’d never be able to let him go.

He knocks on the door and you press the speaker. “Go away.”

“I miss you already.” He says.

“Don’t make me call Sam.”

You can hear his answering laugh and then his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

You can do this. You have Bucky. Everything else will get better with time, and help, and support.

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cap-samwilson · 5 years

Note

prompt: "I thought you and Tony were still gazing into each other's eyes" + stevetony? :)

[steve/tony college au, background bucky/nat]

“what?” steve asks,feeling the pencil slide across the paper with purpose, inspiration steppingbefore every stroke. her voice is the first he’s heard in hours, the artsdepartment buildings pretty empty this time of day, except for the peopleleaving classes in the studios.

“well, the lasttime i saw you, you were drooling pretty heavily over tony stark in thoseskinny jeans, and… well, you know the rest,” nat teases, and unfortunately,steve’s pen has to come to a halt before the heat in his cheeks distracts fromhis homework. “figured you were stuck there.”

letting out asigh, he looks up at her with eyes that beg her not to continue. “no, i don’tknow the rest,” steve says firmly, and his instrument presses against the paperagain. he summons to mind the image he was trying to recreate, but before hecan even make another line he’s glancing up again into nat’s eyes. bright,green, and all-knowing, perfectly complimenting the smirk on her face.

if he wasn’t soannoyed, he’d love to put that image onto paper. of course, nat herself is awork of art. he’s seen her performances after all, bucky lifting her into theair, easy even with one arm, the crowd erupting into cheers. she’s beautifuland smart and funny and she knows what’s going on, even when people like stevedon’t.

again. annoying.

“well, let’s justsay however much you were ogling him, he was equally ogling you,” she says, andreaches for the pencil, snatching it from his fingers. they’ve gone slack.

“what? no, he wasn’t.”his voice is a little strangled as he says it, which gets a laugh as she tucksthe pencil behind her ear. taking away his only sanctuary from this attack. “nat,c’mon, i’ve got to finish this piece for next week.”

that gets a laughout of her, too, though this one is almost… kinder. she reaches out to squeezehis shoulder. “next week is next week, rogers,” natasha tells him, straighteningup to her full height before turning toward the door. her duffle easily fits onher shoulder, and he watches her strut away, his charcoal leaving with her. “buty’know, tony’s coming to my place tonight.”

“wait, tonight?” heasks, and his sketchbook is shoved away in his backpack so he can stand andfollow her out, gripping onto both straps. “what for?”

the cool hits ‘em.it’s springtime, the flowers blooming, the rain passing through washing awayany chance at heat, and the sun on their skin is a setting one.

“i’m having aparty. after all, graduation is in a few weeks, and by that time finals willhave rotted our brains enough that even thinking about having a good time wouldbe out of the question.” she shrugs a bit, and something flashes across herface, something sad, wistful. “and y’know, we’re all spreading out. clint’sgoing up north for a training thing. sam’s going down to d.c., bruce is goingwest coast for grad school. bucky’s… staying in new york.” she catches on thelast one, and steve grimaces a little. he was there when that fight happened.it wasn’t pretty – nat trying her damnedest to pull bucky with her, bucky fightingto anchor them both here. but before he can comfort her, she’s marching on, hershoulder hitching up the duffle that had started to fall.

“anyway. we’re allgoing places. spreading our wings. just thought it’d be a good thing to haveone last hurrah.”

“and i’m justhearing about it now?” steve says with a raised brow, which earns him a solidpunch on the arm.

“yeah, because i’mnot letting you weasel your way out of it. especially since when you’re thereyou’re going to ask tony stark out on an actual date.”

that’s enough tomake steve stop in his tracks, but natasha keeps walking, not even turningaround so he can see the smirk he knows she’s wearing.

“that is nothappening.” he says it firmly enough that she turns around with a raised brow,staring at him block the sidewalk. “what? it’s not. tony doesn’t like me likethat.”

that gets the browpushing higher on her forehead. “you’re joking, right?”

“no, i’m not.” hisvoice is low, and he looks down to kick at a pebble on the sidewalk, a littlebit of his frustration coming through. “if he did he would’ve asked me outalready. or said something, or done something, or… y’know. something like hedid with ty. or christine. or –”

“or who? justin hammer?”nat’s voice is incredulous, and she walks toward steve to push up his chin. “steve,you’re not any of those people. which is why tony hasn’t asked you out.”

“oh, yeah, thatsupposed to make me feel better?” it’s a little angry now, and he kicks anotherrock, hard enough to be gone in the grass. “i’ll see you around, nat, okay?” hehuffs, shaking his head, and he’s about to turn around before he feels herfingers on his elbow. gentle. barely there.

“steve… you don’twant to be those people.”

when he turns tolook at her, her lower lip is bitten, and she’s not looking at him, as if there’ssomething she wants to say but can’t. or won’t. “what do you mean?” he prods,and she sighs before tucking her arm in his, pulling him along toward thelibrary.

“tony’s… been hurta lot,” she relents, and she won’t look at him while she talks, her voice softso no one passing overhears. “you know relationships here. they spark and thenfizzle out, and it ends up being shit for both parties. with tony? it’s notjust a spark. it’s never just a spark.”

and steve can seeit. because tony isn’t just a spark, tony’s fire. he’s passion and verve andthere’s nothing calm about him. hell, when steve first met him he could hardlyhandle it. they snapped and they argued, steve’s stubbornness clashing withtony’s reckless words and behaviors and smiles. the fire wasn’t a flame, it waswild.

but then they gotto know each other, and… well. steve saw more than just something raging thatcouldn’t be contained. steve saw the gentle campfire, barely burning but justas hot, lulling you to sleep with its warmth. like when tony and bruce firstbecame friends. the way he poked and prodded but never pushed bruce furtherthan he wanted to be, always pulled back, always touched and hugged but neversqueezed too tight. he saw the torch, the one held out so others could see. thebest in his field, top of the class, always teaching. bucky and tony were neverbest of friends, but he was always willing to explain something because bucky likedthat stuff, and tony liked talking about it. and he never got annoyed talkingto people like steve about it either, when he saw huge formulas and couldn’thelp but ask what it was. he smiled like it meant something to him that hewould even bother to ask in the first place.

“those peoplewanted something from tony, steve. they wanted his body, or his publicity, orhis mind,” she continues. “and tony got blindsided. justin moved on, and fast,and christine posted an instagram photo and never looked back. hell, ty stole tony’s work on that final project,steve. that’s the reason he had to start from scratch last week. because tywouldn’t admit to it and never got punished.”

they stop again,steve grinding to a halt like he’d been punched in the face.

“what?”

all he got in responsewere those green eyes. sad ones, that seemed to punch him again. a quickone-two that made his mouth fall open a little.

“you’re not likethose people, steve,” she says. just as gentle as her fingers. “you’re sweet,and kind, and generous. and tony doesn’t know what to do with you. with thatkind of love.”

there’s a silence,and they walk in it for a while, his wheels turning. when he does speak, it’s hesitant.

“how did you knowthat i –”

“loved him? rogers,i watched you carry him up ten flights of stairs after his birthday partyfreshman year because the elevators were busted and he was too tired to standup straight. you hand-iced the birthday cake he got with the schematics heturned in for his final last year. hell, i don’t think he’s ever paid for a cupof coffee when he’s with you, and that boy drinks a lot of coffee.”

that gets anotherblush while he rubs his neck, and she laughs, hell, giggles before they stop infront of the library doors.

turning to him, shelifts up a hand to squeeze his shoulder again. “come to my place tonight. 10:00.there’ll be a sizeable amount of booze, a lot of sugar and snacks, and a goodtime with all of your friends. and when you see tony, just. tell him how youfeel.”

“it’s not thateasy, nat,” he suddenly manages, and he can feel every anxious thought he’sever had about tony cloud his brain. “what if he doesn’t feel that way? what ifi’m not what he wants? i’m not pretty like christine or smart like hammer or…smooth like ty, i’m just me. i can barely talk around him sometimes.”

“steve.” he stops when he hears her, andwhen he manages to look at her again, she’s still smiling. raising her browlike he’s just made her point for her. “that’s okay. trust me. it’s coming fromyou. that’s all he wants.”

he’s frozen, butmanages a nod, swallowing tightly. “i just… i don’t want to mess it up, y’know?”

“i know. but youwon’t.”

after a moment, henods again. her confidence seems to work to lift his shoulders, his chin. hestands up straight before glancing over, and she’s grinning from ear to ear,offering the charcoal pencil back.

steve takes it inhis fingers, twirling it a bit, looking at it from end to end. his sketchbook weighsheavy in his backpack, one page holding tony’s image in charcoal pencil, painstakinglycrafted one evening they spent together. homework, they’d said, tony’s hands flyingover his laptop and steve’s fingers blending shadows into tony’s hair. becausesteve hadn’t had homework, had just been wanting and willing to keep tonycompany, and it’d been peaceful, the two of them. they’d shared two pizzas overthe hours they’d spent in tony’s living room, eventually giving up on work (or pleasure,in steve’s case) completely to watch dumb youtube videos on tony’s television.

it was perfect. inthat way time with tony always was. in that way steve knew the genius himselfalways would be. perfectly tony. snarky and brilliant and bright. with all thestubbornness and sarcasm that steve could want. kind and generous and real.

“i’m gonna treathim right, nat,” he finally tells her, as the wind blew by them, bushesrustling, the sun almost completely gone behind a cloud that’d come in with thebreeze. “i’m gonna give him the world.”

“i know,” she says,taking his arm again, walking into the building together to go stir clint froma deep sleep. “i expect nothing less.”

#stevetony #tonysteve #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #college au #my fic #prompt fill #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #background buckynat #ask me!

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