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doubleshotofsomething · 4 years

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Publicity Stunt

Part Four

[Part One<-- Find here]

Warnings: Swearing as usual. Trigger warnings??( just to prepare you, so be prepared). I think thats it??

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader is a fixer/Pr and longtime friend of Pepper. Post-endgame.

PS: Thank you guys for the support and feedback, your kind words are music to my ears(eyes bc i read them) and i cant explain how much it means to me. Thank you all so very much xxxxxxx

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You stood on the tarmac as the Quinjet landed. Your personal assistant, Jonah, had arrived a few hours earlier and met the Avengers at the Senate hearing. You weren’t a fan of court procedures, any more than you were of politicians, so you sent Jonah – along with the lawyers you trusted – to the courthouse to ensure everything ran smoothly. Clint was a bit anxious when you told him your assistant was replacing you, Wanda refused to leave unless you were going with them, and Bucky spent the entire time asking about your male assistant.

“You planned this whole thing but you’re not showing up?” Clint argued, eyes flashing with betrayal.

Wanda agreed with him. “This is your thing! If anyone can convince people to do anything they don’t wanna, it’s you!”

“I’m not one for damselling—” Sam stopped pacing and took a breath- “but you’re turning me into one right about now.”

“This, Noah, person you were telling me about—” Bucky practically shoved the laptop in your face, a picture of your security’s supervisor stared back at you, “—he looks like a registered sex offender.”

You rolled your eyes, fixed the search, and pulled a picture of your assistant. You turned the laptop back to him and faced everyone else. “Jonah is a qualified attorney, and the team of attorneys that will be representing you are the best DC has to offer. You are in great hands.” You tried to reassure them, but your absence was clearly something that they weren’t okay with.

“Noah looks like Rumlow.” Bucky scowled, staring too closely at the screen. “He looks like Rumlow’s Hulk brother.”

“Looks like Drax’s long lost brother,” Sam added, peering over Bucky’s shoulder.

Clint joined in, clicking a few buttons and nodded. “He looks like he eats Senators for breakfast.”

“You work around Rumlow?” Bucky looked back at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Every single day, you spend time with this guy?”

“Jonah.” You corrected.

“He looks like a registered sex offender.”

“That’s not what sex offenders look like,” you scoffed, “you’d be surprised how many suits and ties are actual sex offenders.”

“Rumlow Noah is wearing a suit and tie.”

“Bucky, his name is Jonah,” you looked at him pointedly, “and it would do you justice if you remembered that. He’s a nice kid—”

“-registered sex offender—”

“—and he’s really good at what he does.” You glared at him for a moment longer before looking at everyone else, “I wouldn’t trust this part of the job on anyone else. He’s good. He’s great, and his team of attorneys are sharks. You—”

“Why do we need attorneys?” Clint asked, looking away from the laptop. “I thought this was a senate hearing.”

“While you’re at it, ask her about the security team of registered criminals she has on speed dial.” Bucky muttered, scrolling through more pictures of Jonah.

“What?” Wanda practically cried; eyes wide with panic.

“Oh, for fuck sake—” You inhaled deeply, “—the attorneys are for back up and the security is for the attorneys.”

Bucky, because he’s Bucky and his natural instinct is to make things difficult for you, scoffed. “It’s to get us out of there in case this is a trap.”

“A trap?!”

“Barnes!”

“Did you know Rumlow Noah had the third highest grade score in his class?”

It took far longer than expected, than necessary, to get them onto the Quinjet and to the hearing. Bucky was still attached to the laptop when he boarded, Clint was satisfied that you weren’t sending an intern with no experience, and Wanda was contemplating using her abilities on you. But, eventually, they departed for the city and left you with enough time to do your job, make a couple of phone calls and listen in on the senate hearings.

You weren’t a rookie, you had Jonah wear one of his bugged suits. This was the senate, after all, and you had to be ready for anything they could pull.

Jonah was a large man. His build caused controversy in the courtroom, juries thought him intimidating and witnesses found him unapproachable. His voice was far too deep, his face was far too intense, his looks were too menacing. His presence alone had scared witnesses into committing perjury, a few simple objections had caused him fines from contempt, juries ruled against his clients because of his daunting appearance.

Jonah was a very large man, but where others saw a beast, you saw brains. He was far younger than you, he had graduated from high school and law school far too early, and he was ready to make a difference. He could recite every word in the constitution, poke holes in the most ironclad of nondisclosure agreements, he could tell you all about each crime and how to elude being charged with it. The kid could get away with a Presidential assassination in broad daylight if he wanted to. But he looked like a Mafioso and appearance is everything in DC. So, when he lost a case – a case he should have won – you walked up to him and offered him a job.

Personal Assistant is what you both called his title, but he was much more than that. He was the reason you were good at your job.

“I’m guessing it all went well?” You raised an eyebrow at Jonah, the rest following suit.

Jonah simply shrugged, handing you a folder. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”

“Shit hit the fan.” Clint sighed.

“I’m making a list.” Bucky grumbled, idling a few steps away as he continued with his face shoved against the laptop.

“He pissed everyone off!” Wanda glared at him, “how is that not supposed to be a question?”

“Jesus—” Jonah rolled his eyes, dark brown glaring down at Wanda. “—you really think that was supposed to end well? It’s a senate hearing, with a bunch of powerful that were in the room with, arguably, people that are far more powerful than them. Your abilities, your avenging, everything about you already pisses them off.”

“What was the point of all that then?” Sam questioned, staring at Jonah like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.

“To piss them off,” Bucky added, shoving the laptop at you. “This is Rumlow’s classmate. She’s married, graduated top of her class and lectures at an Ivy League law school.”

You took the laptop and closed it shut. “The point of all this was to prove to everyone that the whole case is biased, that the entire senate – along with the accords – was based on the simple fact that they are biased.” You said, handing the laptop to Jonah’s anticipating hands and walking back inside.

“If we could prove bias to the general public,” Jonah continued as they all followed, “we could dismantle the entire case against you.”

“Sounds like a sex offender thing to say,” Bucky grouched, earning a warning look from you.

You placed the laptop on the kitchen counter, telling Jarvis to seal off every entrance to anyone without residential clearance. The rebuilt Compound was larger, but with less floors, the design was a unique mixture of every Avenger’s taste, except it was more of an armoury than it was a home. Each room had a secret compartment of weapons, and an exit route that led to either the garage or the woods, and the security system seemed to be engineered to withstand a nuclear war.

You had already set up a seating arrangement for them, their absence helped in getting a couple of things done, and you waited as everyone took a seat.

“Everything, from here on out, is gonna be war.” You looked at all of them, hating the next words that were about to leave your mouth. “The whole media stint where I had you kissing babies and walking dogs, helping the needy, all that was just for the cameras. All that was just the first phase of what’s to come next. We can’t win against the Accords, we can’t win against a hundred and seventeen nations. But the people can.”

“This was never about public image.” Wanda stated, bitterness coating her words.

You shook your head solemnly. “You pissed off a lot of powerful people. They don’t care about who you are or how good your intentions—”

“They care about controlling you.” Jonah interjected. “The accords are the perfect example of that, and that’s why I had to piss them off.”

“You didn’t have to do anything.” Bucky growled at him.

“The UN ordered you shot on sight,” Jonah fired back, glaring at him, “that’s illegal and the exact opposite of what they’re supposed to be doing—”

“—Jonah had to rile them up, I told him to do so. Senate hearings are televised and public record, we needed it to have the highest ratings possible.” You added, “because, now, the senate hearing is going to turn into an International court case, where your charges will be presented before you and the court. Testimonials and all that jazz, basically the same bullshit that the Accords doesn’t afford you—”

“—which is illegal and violates a shit load of rights.” Jonah interrupted.

“From that moment forth, we present our case to the world.” You completed, eyes lingering a bit on Wanda for a moment longer.

“We’re gonna lose and go back to the raft.” She said, too sure of herself for your liking.

“The people won’t let us.” Bruce chuckled softly, shaking his head at you. The wheels were turning in his head and the pieces were finally fitting together perfectly. “That’s why you spent so much time on our public image, why you started an uproar in a senate hearing.”

Sam’s shoulders dropped at the realisation, the picture finally becoming clearer. “You’re evil.”

“I’m efficient.” You corrected, “and I don’t like losing. I don’t like it when good people are wronged, and I really hate the government enough to defame it.”

“The economy is gonna suffer, international relations are gon—” Bruce started, but you were not having any of it.

You scoffed. “The accords are a pretty way of saying slavery, so I don’t care.”

“Uh—” Bucky raised his hand slowly, “—call me old fashioned, but I’m really confused here.”

“We’re going to lose to the UN,” Wanda said, turning to face him, arms folded and face twisted in spite. “But she’s going to start a civil war within all nations, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it because people love us, and she made them think the government is evil.”

“You’re evil.” Clint mimicked Sam’s words. “You’re worse than the government.”

“Someone has to be.” You acknowledged, unashamed and unbothered.

You knew what the job description was when you signed up, and you knew the kind of soulless monster you were going to have to be when Pepper called. You left DC behind, a town of vultures, to defend people that weren’t accustomed to those vultures. It wasn’t just DC’s most elite politicians you were going against; it was the entire country; it was the entire world – nations with resources to the disposal that you couldn’t even begin to fathom. First world countries, with the means to make you disappear without a trace, second world countries with the power to make your death seem natural, third world countries that had lost far too much to care about moral code.

To win, your only weapon was to start a world war.

To succeed, your only strategy was to make the people fight it for you.

You weren’t dumb enough to think you could win against world nations. But you were smart enough to know where to hit for fatal damage.

“We’re about to face the world and call their leaders a bunch of criminals,” You finally said. “Clint, I had Happy fetch your wife and kids, they’ll be here in a few hours. Scott will be here as well, with his kid. The compound is the safest place they could be, right now. Until this is all over. Until—”

“—until they’re no longer at risk of being held, by the government, indefinitely.” Jonah added for you, “because we’re not idiots to think they’re safe in their own country. They can and they will be used against you.”

“You’re saying our government would arrest minors for crimes they didn’t commit?” Rhodes, for the first time since he sat in the room, spoke – disbelief cloaking his face.

“I’m saying they arrested Wanda, Clint, Scott and Sam for not signing a contract.” Jonah, a man you trusted with your very life, fired back without missing a beat. “Because that’s what this—” he waved the accords in the air, “—this sad excuse of a law that will never stand, is. A contract. Not a law that has been enforced, not an amendment, and definitely not legal. So, yes, I do strongly believe that a government capable of forcing an Army experiment, which resulted in the Abomination – the same government that violated Bruce Banner’s constitutional right; by illegally searching all his belongings without a warrant – is capable of arresting minors for shit they didn’t do.”

“He can tell you all about the rights and laws that the existence of the raft violates,” you said, “but that’s gonna require a shit load of coffee and a lot of ‘I told you so’s’ from Ol’ man Rogers. And that’s not something we’re all ready for.”

Wanda sat up quickly, gaining everyone’s attention. “Wait,” she examined you, something finally clicking in her head. “Those rights apply to Americans and I’m Sokovian."

You shrugged. “I pulled some strings—”

“—made an argument that you couldn’t be eligible for death penalty for treason, in this country, if you weren’t a citizen—” Jonah added.

“—because then that’s gonna be a whole international dispute, and you would be handed over to your own country for the trial—” You nodded.

“—and, man, do we hate not having blood for blood.” Jonah sighed, shaking his head. “I could name a couple of states that want your pretty little neck attached to the adios syringe—"

“—and no country is a fan of those international disputes. So—,” you pushed the green file, you had placed on the table, towards her. “—you became a citizen the moment I walked onto the compound.”

“Which makes you eligible for the same protection as everyone in this room.”

“Pure evil.” Rhodes gaped at you, completely awed.

“We can’t stop the Accords from happening, but we can sure as hell change it. From this day forward, you guys must do everything I tell you, word for word. You’re a team, what you do and how you act will affect all of us. I know what I’m doing, and I need you to trust that; trust that I can, and I will, get you through all of this. You don’t have to trust me, but you can rest easy knowing that I don’t start wars I can’t win.

“I may be evil,” you breathed, straightening your posture and making sure to look every one of them in eye. “But I’m the kind of evil you need, right now.”

There was pregnant pause, an eerie silence encompassing the entire room. “’Til the end of the line.” Bucky voiced softly, his ocean blues capturing yours in a gentleness you’ve never known.

“We’ve come this far,” Bruce said, nodding in agreement to Bucky’s declaration.

Sam shook his head. “We’re so screwed,” he whispered to Clint.

Pepper didn’t know your plan.

The whole thing was going to be hard enough as it was. You had arranged the empty rooms into guest bedrooms, Jarvis was rather helpful in that department, you had him direct the Avengers’ loved ones to their designated rooms. You made a list of things for Jarvis to inform them of – the basics of the compound and the PG rated reason they were there – and made sure to stock the place with every single necessity you could think, that they would need.

She would disapprove of it.

Asgard was already on standby, in the unlikely case that the Compound was compromised. You had asked their current leader, Valkyrie, for the assistance and she was more than ready to help. The Avengers were dear to Thor’s heart, so taking in their loved ones for protection was something Asgardians were more than happy to do.

She would hate you for it.

Wakanda was on standby for extraction as well. In the event that the Avengers would need an escape route, Nakia – a woman that was very pleased to know about your plan – had promised to help in any way possible. She, too, was not a fan of politicians imposing their agendas under the false pretence of enforcing the law.

“Woah, woah, woah—” Bucky gripped onto your arm, pulling you into a slow jog then a stop, “—slow down there, doll.”

You were struggling to catch your breath as you pulled your arm out of his grasp, wiping your forehead free of sweat with the sleeve of your shirt. You fanned your face, trying to find something to lean against, someplace to sit, somewhere to breathe. Because, damn it all to hell, you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think, and it was freaking you out.

“Y/N…” Bucky called out, gripping both of your shoulders and turning you to face him, “Y/N, come on, look at me.”

It’s too hot. Dammit, why is it so hot?

You tried to push him away, worming your way out of his hold, but that only succeeded in him tightened his grip.

Let go.

Molars grinding, hands fisted, you ducked out of what felt like an ironclad grip and backed away from him. You just needed to think, that’s why you went for a late afternoon jog alone, to think. The compound was too crowded; too many voices for you to focus, too many smells, too many distractions. Your room was no better, it was big enough to be a master bedroom, but it felt small – why did it feel so small?

When did it get so dark?

You tried sitting outside, thinking that fresh air would do the trick. But Bruce and Clint and Jonah were outside, talking about something… you were close enough to hear, you think you even made a comment… What were they talking about?

“Come on, sweetheart, look at m—hey, hey, I need you to look at me.”

Go away!

You just needed to think. You rubbed your throat, continuing down your path – it was your path, right? – and tried to swallow down the dryness. You must have been jogging for a while, it was getting difficult for you to see or focus on where you were going. You tried blinking, alternating between rubbing your eyes and your throat, hating that you didn’t bring a water bottle with you.

What were you missing?

“Y/N—”

Why was he still here?

You just needed a second. You just needed to look at things clearly, for his sake, for their sake. Just a second. That’s all you needed.

Safehouses were sorted, because you could never be too safe. Black folders were ready, because you could never trust the other team to play clean. Everyone’s loved ones were accounted for. So, what were you missing?

Think about Morgan.

That annoying little twinge snapped at you, in you, spreading across the left side of your chest. You didn’t even like children, so that shouldn’t even be a thought. It shouldn’t have been a thought coated in Pepper’s voice.

This is exactly why, you thought, this is exactly why I don’t mix work with friendship.

You stopped walking when you could no longer see where you were going, reaching out to find the nearest tree. You couldn’t even hear your own footsteps as you did that, you couldn’t hear anything except the loud thrumming in your ears.

There was something in the distance, some sort of movement maybe – couldn’t be sure, you chose to pass it off as nature and focused on catching your breath. Your muscles felt tense, you blamed it on the jog – because you’re a walker, not a jogger. Your lungs were aching and each gasp for air seemed to not be enough, every deep breath you tried to take felt like it was twisting your chest.

You felt something crawl up your arm, an unwelcome heat that you recoiled away from, moving away from whatever it is. You mind shouted spider and you didn’t hesitate to speed walk away from the pest, but it wouldn’t stop clinging to you, pulling at you, dragging you back with its callous clutch.

You went to flick it away with your other hand, dread settling into the pit of your stomach. “Get off me,” you couldn’t recognise your own voice, drenched in trepidation as your hand tried to swat away at the thick-skinned creature.

Another one gripped at your hand, pressing it to your chest as you began to heave in an unadulterated panic. The iron grip on your arm moved to your back, unconcerned by the fight you were putting, and you were forced into something hard.

“Shhh,” Bucky soothed, wrapping an arm around your writhing figure whilst moving his other to stroke your head, “it’s okay, just breathe.”

This wasn’t you. This couldn’t be you. His shark, his girl, his little darling, his sweetheart couldn’t be the one that tried to fight him off. You couldn’t be this shivering wreck in his arms. No… it couldn’t be you.

But it was you. He could tell it was you just by the sound of your footsteps, so he followed the sound through the trees until he found you, taking a path he knew you’d never been on before.

His shark was shaking in his arms; he could pick you out in a dark room by your smell alone, and your disorientated steps struck an intrusive feeling in him, the kind he’d felt after the snow.

His girl, in the dark and alone, too scared to even let him hold her. This couldn’t be the woman he fell in love with, could it?

“Focus on my voice, I know it’s difficult, but—” he took a breath as he tightened his grip, “—you just need to breathe. Okay? Breathe with me, doll, in and out, slowly—”

He felt you tense, felt as your thrashing turned to uncoordinated twitching, felt as you tried to focus on what he was telling you to do. It took a while before you could mimic his breathing, he didn’t blame you – figured you were just realising what was happening, and even then, your breathing was off.

“That’s it,” he praised, “that’s my girl. You’re doing so good, darling, just keep focusing on my voice—”

You could barely make out his voice, the cloud in your head was too much, but the quick thuds that were drumming against your hand – each one strong as the other – pierced through the disarray. You moved away your hand, having been placed there from your attempt to push him away, and pressed your forehead against the area, forcing yourself to focus on at least that.

This wasn’t you. This didn’t happen to you. But here you were, in Bucky’s arms, hating yourself for letting this happen.

One sense at a time, your own voice rang in your head, that’s how you’ll get back control.

You shut your eyes, tapping your finger to beat of his heart, choosing to focus on your sense of touch first – not that it was a choice. Your first instinct was supposed to be listening, but your disarrayed mind ignored his voice, and went straight for the feel of his heart against your hand. The muscle beating against his chest, something you couldn’t hear, was the only thing you were capable of recognizing in that moment.

The thrumming managed to soothe away the ache in your chest and your feet, the feel of something soft and damp pressing against the crown of your head repeatedly managed to help cool you down, all that was left was for the slight stinging on your throat to disappear – but water could fix that.

You can’t do it all at once, Stark. You remember telling Tony, his panic attack had rendered him speechless, the first of the few that had. Divide and conquer, just like I taught you.

He had listened, focused on your instructions as you helped pull him out of the deep, then pretended he had it all under control – that he could have managed just fine without your interference. You laughed, accustomed to his humour, knowing it was only a defence mechanism, then told him about how it wasn’t something to be ashamed of. You told him that it was a normal thing, a reasonable reaction, to the horrors he had seen. You told him, insisted, that it wasn’t something to be embarrassed about because it happened to the best of us.

You didn’t think you’d have to tell yourself that.

Best of us, never included you.

You were the one that got people through them; helped them cope, taught them the little techniques that they benefited from.

You never thought you would have to use them on yourself.

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