A/N: Holy Guacamole! This is a violent chapter. If you're not a fan of that sort of thing, well this might not be for you. Again, I want to say thanks to all the faves and follows and comments. It's great to know that people like this silly little fic. As usual, hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: This is all Marvel owned, accept Chrissy, she's mine.
Chapter 10 : Never Finished
Dodge a punch, block a kick. Repeat. The Asset moves aside, tilts his head out of the way, or uses his arm to block any incoming advances easily. Leather creaks and protests against the lightning quick movements. Then, there's a tremendous amount of pain in his right shoulder as a young man plunges a knife into the flesh and muscle there. The Asset is annoyed, why does he have to take a beating just so this dumb ass can learn how to fight properly? The commanding officer in the room finally gives him the order to strike back. Time to see what this recruit can do.
After a few quick blows, it's apparent that this initiate can't do much but die painfully quick. A body lies at the Soldier's feet. A dark-haired man, lifeless, lying in his own blood, windpipe ripped out of his throat and hanging in the grasp of The Asset's left hand.
Well, that's something. Blood drips from metallic fingers as the Soldier stands at the ready awaiting further instructions.
The Officer is walking around the young man's lifeless form. He's informing the others that they will suffer a fate far worse should they fail their training or disobey at any time. The end goal is for them to at least hold their ground against this man, the Winter Soldier. The Officer twists and pulls out the blade that's still lodged in the Asset's shoulder, who doesn't even flinch. Blood trickles down, slow and thick underneath his clothing. How he hates that feeling.
A scientist comes forward, he's old, short and balding, he's informing these men that the Soldier before them will only act on their commands. He will never sleep, strike or kill unless instructed to do so. The old man in the white coat is now talking to people behind the glass of the observatory as he gently places a red journal down onto the nearby table. Oh no, they want a demonstration. The depths of his words need to be proven. The Officer hands the dagger to one of the recruits.
The Asset is instructed to remain still until further notice. What happens next, isn't a surprise. He's stabbed, slashed and beaten to the point where his own blood can be heard running down the drain in the middle of the room. Light headed, the Soldier falls to his knees. Someone is shouting at him, ordering him to stand up. Blinking forcefully, oxygen leaving his body through large puffs of breath, he does as they command. There's a bright flash of light when a sudden sharp pain hits him square in the chest. A copper taste in his mouth. His body slumps to the floor with and sickening thud.
Bucky is sitting up in bed, chest heaving, skin clammy and cold. Fingers are searching his bare chest for the puncture wound he's positive was there a moment ago. All he finds is an old scar, it's fairly small and quite faded. Where's all that blood? Shallow shaky breaths. It hurts to breathe. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, he notices Chrissy standing in the doorway patiently.
"I heard you shouting." She swallows the lump caught in her throat. "You were thrashing when I opened the door. I was waiting for you to calm down...but I didn't want to leave you alone."
"I-I'm sorry if I woke you." Prosthetic hand runs over his face, trying to convince himself that this is real, and the other thing, that was a dream, a long forgotten memory. One that really could have stayed buried. Again, his fingers are searching for wounds, he's not totally convinced he came out of that unscaved. Well his shoulder hurts, but isn't that from a different injury? Leaning over the side of the bed, the Soldier checks the floor to make sure that there's no corpse there. Didn't he just kill someone? She doesn't need to see that.
"Bucky, are you alright?" Chrissy takes a cautious step forward. "Talk to me, maybe I can help."
"I killed him. I thought for sure that he'd be…right here..." Bucky checks the other side, there's no one lying on the floor there either. What the hell? Confusion and panic is setting in. Heart is hammering, pulse is rising. Running both hands through his hair, the thought of this being a test is causing anxiety to build. His mission, what was it? "Did I do something wrong? Do I have to restart? I can't remember."
Chrissy makes her way to the side of his bed, concern set in her features and body language. "There's no test, Bucky. You had a nightmare. Probably about something that happened to you a long time ago. You have them every night, but this time around was a really bad one. It's got you shook up a bit. That's all."
Bright tired eyes search her face, maybe there's truth to her words. "A nightmare." Eyelids shut tight as he repeats her words.
Chrissy nods. "That's right. You're safe here, remember?"
"But I saw a recruit and I killed him...I thought for sure…" When he goes to lean over the bed to inspect the floor once more, Chrissy grabs his forearm.
"There's no dead body. No blood. I promise." The muscles in his frame relax slightly.
Gently, Bucky takes her hand. The structure of her bones feel so fragile compared to his own. He presses Chrissy's palm against the side of his face, there's a need to reassure himself that this is real, and that he's really here with this woman and she's not a threat.
"Better?" Her thumb rubs his cheek.
"I think so." The Soldier can feel the tremors starting in his chest, he's suddenly chilled to the bone. Shivering, Bucky pulls his knees up, trying to contain his body heat. Doesn't he usually vomit? Part of the ritual, right? But the urge to retch never arises.
"I can stay if you need me to." The Soldier doesn't answer, but he doesn't refuse either. Chrissy climbs under the covers and lets him rest his head against her shoulder as they lie back. Still shaking, she brings the comforter up and rubs his back, trying to spread warmth. "I can get another blanket."
His head shakes sharply. "No, I'm fine. It'll pass." Arms wrap around her as he exhales deeply, partially from exhaustion and partially from humiliation. Showing weakness, not something he's entirely use to, because usually he'd be reprimanded for something like that. Chrissy's warm, and her heart beat is soothing. He can feel her fingers running through his hair, the shivers seem to slowly dissipate.
"Does this help?" She's trying to figure out how to help him. A few quick nods against her collarbone. "Alright. Are you warming up?" Arms tighten, pulling her close. He probably wants the questions to stop, he's embarrassed enough as it is. Chrissy won't be getting any more verbal answers or comments from him for the rest of the night.
"I'm not going anywhere, sweetie." The rough stubble of his jaw grazes across her skin as he adjusts his position. "So just relax the best you can and try to get some sleep." He would do and has done the exact same thing for her, she's not about to leave him fend off his demons alone.
When his breathing finally starts to follow a rhythmic sleepy pattern, Chrissy allows herself to relax into the bed. Bucky's grip around her loosens and his skin feels warmer. Every so often, his muscles tense and then relax, he must be dreaming, hopefully of nothing too violent. Chrissy settles her head against the pillow and shuts her eyes. God he's heavy, thankfully not even half his weight is resting against her.
Steve quietly shuts the door to his friend's room.
As soon as the Captain had heard the shouting, he was out of his bed and at Bucky's door, Tony and Chrissy arriving not long after. Chrissy told them that she would deal with the situation. Afraid that if the men intervened, it could possibly make matters worse. Stark and Rogers decided to remain in the hallway, nearby, just in case. They hadn't expected the outcome that unfolded.
"Still think there's a better way for her to deal with this?" The Captain glances at Stark from the corner of his eyes. "Because if you have an answer, I'm willing to listen." A shaky breath leaves Steve as he tries to not let what they just witnessed upset him.
Tony gestures for the Captain to follow him downstairs. Standing in the kitchen, trying to grasp what that man must see or go through every night. Stark takes a drink of water as he tries to process everything. "I can't even begin to imagine what it's like...for either of them. And Chris...she didn't even seem a tiny bit frightened. I don't know how she does it."
"Well she has put up with you for this long." Steve grins.
"True." Tony smirks in return. "But then again I'm a pretty good friend to have around." The Iron man pats Steve on the shoulder as he walks past him into the living room. "I've never seen anything like that. What I mean is...I've never seen someone...who has a reputation of being so ruthless and practically invincible reduced to sweat and tears...only to be pacified by the words and actions of someone so calm and patient." Tony sighs and regards his friend with a warm smile. "Our Chris, she sure is something."
"She is." Rogers smiles brightly and takes a seat, trying to figure out how he's suppose to go back asleep after that. "Why haven't you talked to her?" New York, Sokovia, Pepper and everything else. So much is said without actually being spoken. "You should stay here a while. Did Barton a world of good."
"Are you nuts? Did you not just see what happened? She's far too busy with Barnes." Tony's serious. "Besides, that would mean I would have to leave my work and…"
"Excuses." Steve shakes his head. "But in the end it's up to you. Maybe another time."
"Maybe." Maybe never and they both know it. Tony's gaze lands on the staircase. "Do you think she's in danger around him? You know...when he's like that or worse." He's waiting for the other man's reaction.
Steve exhales and leans forward. Elbows resting on his knees as he looks at the stairs and then at Tony. "She's a grown woman and she's dealt with all kinds of different scenarios. Dangerous ones. And she's not helpless or defenceless."
"So, yes." Tony rubs a thumb over his chin. "I know it's not his fault. I just don't want to see her hurt...or worse."
"None of us do. Especially Buck." When Rogers says this, something in Tony's brain clicks.
"I've mentioned this to Barnes before...I think there's a way that I can neutralized that trigger they placed in his brain." Tony can see the Captain staring back at him patiently. "I'll start working on it as soon as we get back home." Determined to help and protect his friend at any cost. Maybe if Barnes can relax knowing no one can control him anymore, the Soldier will have less reason to go beserk.
The pounding. She can put up with the light sensitivity and the pain, but that constant throbbing in her frontal lobe and the back of her neck she could really do without. And why has this been brought on all of a sudden? She's gone at least a few days without any sign of a migraine, so why now?
You would think with the house quiet again she'd be able to relax. Steve and Tony left a few days ago, and everything seems to be slowly getting back to normal. Charlotte is up and running perfectly, Bucky seems to be doing better and there's no other reason to stress out.
Chrissy winces while leaning over the kitchen island, resting on her elbows she tries to stop the room from spinning. Bucky is in the forest at the back of the property, she remembers him saying something about tracking animals to learn their patterns for next month. Hunting season's soon...that's right. It took a lot of convincing to get him to be at ease and leave her here. No threats, Charlotte's good to go, she had told him. Every time things calm down...
When Chrissy brings fingers up to push the hair from her face, she makes contact with warm liquid. Looking at her fingertips she spots bright red. Oh jeez. A bleeding nose? Perfect. When she grabs a cloth from a nearby drawer, she hears the front door open. Oh great. That man shows up at the most inopportune times. She sighs and starts to wipe the blood away from her face.
"There's a lot of animal movement on the property…" Bucky notices the cloth in her hand and the crimson stain on it. The Soldier grasps her arm gently and gets her to turn towards him. "What's going on?" He's serious but his tone is soft.
The woman exhales slowly when she lifts her gaze towards him. "Started a few mins ago... and then I noticed this." She's trying to grin but only manages a poorly executed sideways smirk.
The Soldier takes the cloth, dampens it and carefully wipes Chrissy's face as he gets her head to tilt back. Once she's cleaned up, Bucky guides her to the couch where she lies down. Within seconds he has Chrissy's pain meds and a cold compress. "Want me to call Doctor Stevens?"
Chrissy shakes her head, an action she regrets immediately. "Nah. I think I'm good. Just gonna relax a bit…" Eyes closed she can't see the concern on the Soldier's face but she can hear it in the way he exhales. "If it gets worse we'll contact him...ok? Last time I had one was when Clint was here."
"What?" His shoulders drop. "Why didn't you say something?"
"Because I didn't have a bleeding nose and it was just a regular migraine. Nothing new. Besides, we've been occupied with bigger things lately." She reminds softly.
"Do you want to rest in your room...because I can…" He'll carry her, she knows this.
Suppressing a laugh the woman shakes her head slowly, eyes still shut with her arm draped over them. "I'm fine here sweetie, but thanks anyways."
Sensing where Bucky's sitting on the sofa beside her and without opening her eyes, Chrissy's able to lift her hand and place it on the side of his face. He leans into her touch and that forces her to smile thoughtfully.
"Don't move from this spot." He instructs. "Rest."
A blanket is draped over her form and she settles further into the cushions. "Promise. I'll be fine. If I need you, I'll holler." She snickers knowing that he'll most likely stay as close as possible. It's a nice gesture but it's really not needed.
There's voices in the kitchen, two males. Chrissy notices that the living room is dark, thank goodness for the small things. Wait it's dark? What time is it? Jake's nails make scratching sounds on the hardwood floor when he notices his human stirring from her sleep. There's a low whine when he makes his way towards her and rests his snout on her belly.
"Good boy." The woman whispers and scratches the canine behind the ears. "Who's here huh?"
"Boof." Doggy breath and wow that seemed loud even though it wasn't. The animal's entire body is moving with the force of his tail wagging.
The chatter in the kitchen stops and she can see Bucky and Doctor Stevens as they head her way. The Soldier takes a seat by her side and passes her a glass of water. "Feeling a little better?"
"A little, yeah." Chrissy tries to sit up but feels too dizzy and weak. "Hey Doc." She acknowledges and then looks at Bucky with disapproval.
"Oh don't be like that. He had reason to be concerned." Stevens is patting the Soldier on the shoulder as he takes a seat on the coffee table. "You've been asleep most of the day."
"Oh…" She sighs and offers Bucky an apologetic squeeze of the hand. "Is there a reason for concern?"
Stevens rubs his palms together. "Only if it were happening non stop." He regards the two people before him thoughtfully. "Sometimes these things happen with more serious head injuries. Sometimes there are side affects that reduce over time and then sometimes there are ones that become permanent. Your migraines...unfortunately, might be something that you will need to learn to manage…and live with. I know that's a shitty answer..."
A permanent resident. Perfect. "Alright." It is what it is. Now she just needs to learn how to properly deal with it.
"There's preventative medications and other things you can try...you'll probably still get the migraines. Just not as often or as bad." The doctor clears his throat. "I already gave all the paperwork and directions to Barnes, but you should go over it later. Also, stress and the weather...that's going to be a major factor when it comes to your pain levels."
"Alright…" Stress and weather, two things she can't really control.
Stevens pauses for a moment and then clears his throat again. "Henry stopped by a while ago?" The woman nods and drops her gaze. "Well that probably didn't help." Stevens stands and adjusts his glasses. "Call me if anything changes." He's talking to Bucky, trying to sound as reassuring as possible. "You're in good hands Chris. I know you're probably not feeling very famished. But please drink lots of fluids and get plenty of rest. Make sure that you eat breakfast every morning as well."
Chrissy nods. "Thanks Doc."
"I'll see myself out. You guys take care." Stevens pats Jake on the head and leaves the home.
"I'm not sorry I called him." Bucky scoffs as he raises a brow in her direction.
"I'm not upset...You're aloud to be concerned and take action if you feel it's necessary...especially when you think someone's just being stubborn" Chrissy hates being wrong, but she can't make him feel insecure about worrying when something is bothering him. "I know I can be a pain sometimes. But it's part of my charm."
Bucky stands, scoops her up into his arms and begins to head upstairs. Resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping her arms around him she shuts her eyes, neck and head still too sensitive. "I'll let you shower and change while I clean up downstairs…unless you want me to wait…"
"I'll be fine." She snickers. "I'm not dying...just pained."
Yup, a hot shower, that helped. Her neck isn't as sensitive now, but her heads is pounding. Light pj's and a comfy bed, she should sleep really well.
"Here…" Bucky's offering her one of the pills and a glass of water when she exits the washroom, causing her to jump.
"Jesus!" She clutches her shirt. "I keep forgetting how quiet you can be."
"Sorry…" No he's not. Not with that toothy grin.
Chrissy takes the offered meds and then crawls into bed. Once the light in her room is turned off, she notices that Bucky is in a change of clothing and is settling in beside her. Deciding not to say anything, the woman shuts her eyes as the mattress dips with his added weight. A gentle hand is massaging the back of her neck and she can feel the knots giving way, kind of hurts but doesn't all at once.
"I'll be fine sweetie, just need to rest."
"Then rest." He's not going anywhere, probably won't sleep.
Sleepy, Chrissy tugs the Soldier's arm around her and settles against his side. She can feel a tiny animal running around on the bed and this makes her smile. Chance is hyper yet again. A laugh escape Bucky as he taps the bedding and the kitten bounds on his hand. He shakes his head and leans back into the pillows.
A quick peck is placed on the side of his jaw and for some reason he goes rigid. "Goodnight."
Bucky coughs. "Night." A quick reply.
"Did I make you uncomfortable?" If so, she needs to correct this right away. She's kissed him in a friendly manner before, but if it's something that doesn't sit well with him, this is the first time she takes notice. "I'm sorry. I'm part French Canadian, that sort of thing is normal for me, but if it's something that bothers you... I'm sorry I never noticed…it won't happen again."
Bucky lets out a laugh. "It's fine...still not used to that sort of thing...yet. Can't remember the last time anyone wanted to be near me like this. So it's just...strange for me...but not unwanted or unappreciated."
"Alright." She relaxes against him again and feels him kiss the top of her head. He's totally capable of being a sweetheart.
"Was that ok?" A nervous question. He's trying to figure out how to display affection without being overbearing or awkward.
"Yes." Chrissy pats his chest gently, shuts her eyes once more and hugs his sides. The Soldier flinches and she's reminded harshly about his injuries. "Oh...I'm so sorry." Briskly sitting up, she turns on the lamp to investigate his ribs, maybe she reopened the stitching. Maybe the swelling and bruising hasn't gone down yet. Damn it.
"God we are both in poor shape." She snickers and lifts his tank top near the waist. Fingers drag over green and blue colored skin causing Goose flesh to run across his abdomen.
"Hey. Woah...I'm fine." Her hands are pushed aside. He does have some boundaries. "Just a bit tender. Turn the light off…sleep."
Doing as he asks, the woman lowers his shirt and lies down. The medication in her system making her drowsy, within minutes she's fast asleep. When Chrissy's nose brushes against the exposed skin at the top of his shirt, that's when Bucky decides that she probably needs to rest on her own. The feelings that small contact causes, it's a little too much for him to process and understand. His body likes it and he's not happy about that. Not one bit. He's not exactly in touch with how certain things make him feel yet. Maybe he should leave the room, he's not going to sleep anytime soon anyways. A shower, that sounds like a solid plan. When she lets out a small pained groan, Bucky sighs knowing he can't leave her side for long.
Damn her. Damn him. Damn that weird feeling in his gut. It's just lack of the right kind of human contact and comfort after all those years. That's what he's summing it up to. Nothing more. He grunts. Stupid brain, stupid body, stupid stomach. Stop it. Sleep. Shut your eyes and stop thinking.
Chrissy's thigh is draped over his own in her sleep. Yeah... nope. Nope. All kinds of nope. A shower, set to freezing or really hot. That's what he needs. He's still human, still a man, and his innards seem to remember that. He can't have his body unintentionally reacting to her innocent behaviour and touches like this. Why can't he go back to the way he was with her before? He doesn't need complicated right now, especially with her, his one area of solace.
All in your head Barnes.
Careful not to wake his friend, Bucky slips out from the bedding and heads for his own room. Shower, then check on her later.
When he's relaxed, cleaned and has a clear head, the Soldier returns to Chrissy's room to check on her, just like he promised himself. Drying his wet hair with a towel, he sits at the edge of her bed. Chrissy's still curled up where he left her. He smiles seeing her look so careless and peaceful.
"Couldn't sleep?" When had she awoken, he hadn't noticed.
"No...thought a shower would help." She's holding the bedding up for him. He sighs and tosses the towel onto the chair. "You wouldn't be more comfortable with the entire bed to yourself?"
"You're warm." Chrissy admits lazily. Then she notices his demeanor, it's different. "What's wrong?" She sits up bringing her knees to her chest.
"What? Nothing." Stupid brain. "I lit the woodstove...should warm up soon." Bucky decides to crawl back in beside her. Completely aware that she can tell that something's bothering him, but this is something he really has no intention of discussing with her, ever.
"Good idea." Chrissy lies back down and pulls the blankets around herself tightly. An arm drapes over her and she feels his chest press up against her back. "Are you positive there's nothing bothering you?"
The Soldier remains quiet. Sucking some air in between his teeth he tries to figure out how to word his thought process. "Don't worry bout it. Just concerned...you know…about everything that's going on."
"Alright." She sounds unconvinced, but knows when not to pry.
Bucky's fully aware that he can share any thoughts with this woman without the fear of being judged or cast out. But this conversation is one he needs to have with another male. Steve, next time he's around and Bucky has a better idea of what is going on inside his head or whatever, he'll bring it up. Well maybe. Ok, probably not because it's nothing. Right? He sighs out loud by accident.
The woman in his arms moves and he's forced to pull away slightly. Yup, he knows exactly what his issue is. "Bucky, am I making you...feel out of place or uncomfortable? Because you can tell me." An adult, with a mature mind. He gets her meaning.
"No." She's not and that's the truth. "I'm just restless…" Also true.
"Are you sure?" She turns around, a small gap of space now between them. That's better. He can breathe now.
He forces a smile he knows she can't see. "Positive. Sleep. K?"
A small hand finds his face and pushes his damp hair back, her thumb smoothes over his cheek and Chrissy begins to drift off once more. "Night." Just like that she's sleeping.
Bucky grasps her hand gently, kisses her palm and shuts his eyes. Stupid brain. Damn body. Seventy years, that's a long time, he reminds himself, his body is just starting to wake up, that's all. Nothing more. Right? The woman presses herself against him, her head resting under his chin. He can't win. Oh well, at least she's asleep.
The Soldier's cellphone is ringing on the nightstand. What the hell? Bucky looks at the time. 4:09 A.M. Must be important. Steve.
"Who's calling at this hour?" Chrissy presses on Bucky's chest to help herself sit up. "Feels like we just fell asleep…"
is displayed on the screen. Bucky answers the call, his voice gruff with sleep. "You've only been gone a few days…"
"I know...we're about twenty minutes away." Steve's hesitating.
"What? Why?" They can't possibly expect him to go on any kind of mission. Not yet, not so soon. He's an unnecessary risk. Unstable.
"I told them you're not ready for this...but they want you there. Said they would send someone else to talk to you...we all know how that would turn out. Look, I know what you're answer will be. I'm just showing up to keep them quiet." The Captain sighs. Two sides of the same coin, he really does need Barnes for this one, but he's not willing to jeopardize anyone's life.
"Well then...turn around." Bucky knows the Captain can't do that.
"Buck...I had Nat keep an eye on a few of the bunkers from your list. Looks like one's been reactivated in British Columbia. They think that your inside knowledge of the place might be beneficial…" Again, Steve knows the answer, but he's doing what they asked him to, because in a way, they are right.
"Guess you're coming a long way for me to say no in person." Frustrated, Bucky hangs up the phone and turns to see Chrissy staring at him.
"Are you actually considering it?" She sighs and shakes her head. "We have no way of knowing what will happen…" She's trying to be as delicate as possible, sensitive topic and all. Neither of them are willing to admit it, but if Steve pleads enough, they both know that Bucky will give in.
The Soldier heads for his room and looks for a change of clothing, Chrissy's not too far behind. "I'm not going." A low confirmation as he glances over his shoulder. "Too much of a liability. I won't be the reason anyone gets hurt...or worse. I'll draw them a map, point them in the right direction. That's it."
Chrissy nods, sighing heavily and heads back to her room. Early morning company, guess she should get dressed for the day as well.
The engines die down and Steve walks down the ramp. It's dark and the breeze is cool, surveying the property, he can see his two friends waiting for him on the deck. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, wishing this was just a regular visit.
With long strides, the Captain quickly makes his way through the field. Bucky is leaning against the porch post looking solemn. Drinking coffee, his body language is relaxed. There's no doubt that he's staying put, mind's made up already. It's clear, Bucky has no intention on leaving the farm today.
"Morning." Steve smiles shyly and stops just in front of the steps.
"Morning." Bucky glances at the Quinjet. "I'm not going. Here, take this." The Soldier hands the Captain a paper with notes and a map drawn out on it.
Steve takes the parchment and folds it. Shaking his head, he licks his dry lips. "We could really use your help on this one." A brow lifts in the other man's direction.
"Like I said... long way for nothing." Bucky smirks and crosses his arms. "Coffee?"
Grinning, Steve denies the offer. "I'm good, thanks." He glances over his shoulder and sighs.
"Be careful." Chrissy is wrapped up in a large quilt, sitting on the bench. "Call us when you're done. Got it?"
Steve nods chuckling. "Yeah. I got it." His eyes grow wide as he answers the comms set up in his helmet. "Right, we're leaving now." Steve informs the authoritative voice in his ear piece.
Chrissy leaves her blanket on the the bench and stands next to Bucky. If they think they can just force him to do something he doesn't want to, they have another thing coming. The deal was that Bucky would come here to get better and then help when he could and when it was safe for him to do so. Why would they want to jeopardize anyone's life?
Steve's fingers are resting against the relay device at his ear. "What?" The Captain's eyes are searching for something in Chrissy's direction. "How many?" Rogers mouth suddenly feels dry. "Sir, technically she's a civilian."
Bucky's gaze goes from Steve and then to the woman by his side. Muscles in his jaw clenching. He doesn't like the sound of this, or the look in Steve's eyes. What the hell is this about?
"Understood. I'll see what I can do." Steve climbs the stairs and makes his way over to Chrissy quickly. "We have a...delicate situation."
"What kind of a situation?" Bucky places himself between Chrissy and the other man. His gut telling him where this might be going. "She's not going either." He's stern. Steve's got to be out of his damn mind.
"I don't want her to go either, but she'd be well guarded." Steve's trying not to anger his friend. "I wouldn't leave her side."
"Wait what's going on?" Chrissy places a hand on Bucky's arm, trying to calm his nerves.
"They have kids, about a dozen or so. Most are, advanced..." Steve knows how shaky his voice sounds, but he continues. "We don't know how long they've been there, or what's been done to them..." He doesn't need to say more, she knows why they'd want her there.
Chrissy pulls her jacket in closer. "Steve, I'm not trained for...well this. Connor taught me how to throw knives, fire a gun and defend myself. That's it."
The Captain rubs the back of his head. This entire situation is nuts. Normally he wouldn't agree with something this ridiculous. "You wouldn't have to worry about any of that…"
Bucky's brow furrows with aggravation, does Steve not hear himself? This plans is garbage. "Are you off your damn rocker?!" The Soldier takes a step forward and the Captain is forced to descend one of the stairs. "You're not blind. You must see the holes in this plan of theirs. If something happens to you or any of them…" Bucky points to the aircraft, fully aware of who's on board. "It'd be her life on the line." Another step forward as he glares down at his friend.
"I don't like any of this either Buck...but there's kids…" Steve reminds calmly. "Otherwize I wouldn't have even mentioned it…"
Chrissy's hand wraps around Bucky's, trying to make sure he doesn't do anything he'll regret. "Let me call Frank, tell him to keep an eye on the farm." Chrissy knows she's not the only one leaving now, they have no choice. The woman heads inside to call her neighbour and adjust Charlotte's settings.
Bucky grunts, not liking this one bit. "I'll go. Not because they want me to…" His eyes are steel, his intent clear. "You must know that this is a horrible idea."
"It is, but they're not wrong either. These kids, they might need her, a friendly face. We don't know what we'll be dealing with when we get there."
"That's exactly why she shouldn't be going!" His temper, his patience with Steve is surprising even himself. Normally Steve, this man that Bucky looks up to, even aspires to be like and make proud, has sound logic. Right now the Soldier is questioning the Captain's judgement, it's clouded. Even if there are kids, is this really the way they should go about this?
Steve adjusts his gloves, knowing that his explanation doesn't sound well thought out. "But we are not bringing Chrissy in until the place is cleared. Buck...we need to get these kids out. What if they are experimenting on them...like they did with you?" It's a low blow, but it's a very real possibility. Maybe Bucky can relate.
"Fine. I'll help clear it out." He's pissed. Yet again he's doing something that doesn't sit well with him. Being forced, again, but in a different way. Damn Governments. "If anything happens…" The Soldier grunts and heads into the home. "I'll get my stuff."
Within a few minutes, the trio is on the jet.
"Area is secured." Steve informs over their communications. Stealing a quick glance at Bucky over his shoulder, the Captain continues to press forward, past the double doors. "How you doing Buck?"
"Forget about me." Mood still sour. "Pay attention to what the hell you're doing." Bucky's rifle is empty and slung over his back. M11s in each hand as he cautiously makes his way in front of Rogers and peers around each door and each corner. "Clear."
"Alright, Barton bring her in."
It takes a good fifteen minutes for Chrissy and Clint to make it to where the two Soldiers are holding a position. She has to step over a few unconscious or dead men in black uniforms, but she keeps her eyes on Clint's back, focusing on where he moves, not where he steps. Entering the room, she can see Steve standing guard off to one side, while Bucky kneels looking in the opposite direction.
"I want that door opened." Steve's talking to someone over their communications. "Fine, five minutes."
Chrissy has about fifty questions, but she knows that they are all concentrating on what they are doing. Her inquiries can wait until it's the right time. A few minutes goes by and the set of doors open. Steve taps his friend on the shoulder and Bucky rises, pushing forward into the room.
"Clear." Steve's voice is heard from beyond the sliding doors.
"Alright follow me." Clint motions with his chin for her to follow suit. They enter a large room. It smells musty and the air is humid. Twenty cells, all along the left side. All dimly lit. To the right, a sanitisation area, equipped with a few showers and sinks. Straight ahead of them in another large room is an operating table, a large creepy leather chair, and few desks with computers.
Chrissy brings a hand to her mouth, this is way more then what she was expecting. While she's taking in the sights of this horrible place, Steve gets Natasha to gain access to the security panels, forcing the doors to the cells to open.
"Chrissy…" Steve's beckoning for her to move closer. "There's twelve in total."
Sporting a friendly smile, slowly she approaches the first cell. Her eyes land on a small girl, no older than five. "Hey, my name's Chrissy. Me and my friends came here to get you and everyone else out. We'll get you somewhere safe." She kneels down, placing her hands on her thighs, trying to seem as little threatening as possible.
The little brunette recoils to the far corner of the cell. Her face is smeared with dirt and tears. "What happened to him?" She points to the man with the metal arm.
Chrissy smiles warmly. "He got hurt a long time ago. The people that keep you here...they did that to him. Now he helps...tries to stop them from hurting anyone else."
The little girl wipes at her eyes with her sleeve and inches her way forward. "Is that true?" She asks the Soldier who doesn't seem to be paying attention to her. His eyes dart down and he nods.
"So how about we get you all out of here?" Chrissy extends her hand and waits.
All different ages, from as little as five to as old as fifteen. Most have special abilities, some have none. The group of children before her are scared, malnourished and some are heavily drugged. Sam is talking to one of the young males, trying to reassure him that everything will be alright now. Chrissy sighs loudly, kids, how could they do this to innocents? Her eyes land on Bucky, who's still guarding the entrance.
"How many?" Steve is talking to Nat over their comms once more. He taps Barton on the shoulder. "We have heavily armed hostiles heading our way. We need to get out of here. Now. I want you and Sam to make sure our passageway is clear. Those kids are our main priority."
With a saddened look, the Captain places a nine millimeter in Chrissy's hand. "Just in case...make sure to stay with the group. Alright?" This rescue mission, this plan, it was doomed from the start.
"There's not enough time." Bucky warns, he can hear noise coming from down the halls. "Get them out, seal that door."
"Nat?" The Captain is running out of options.
"Working on it." There's a pause. "Right...manual override to the left of the back door. Open the panel and hit the only button there. It'll lock the exit. Should allow enough time to get them to safety, but you'll have to take the long way back." Steve signals for Barton and Wilson to lead the kids down the hall. "Move out."
The youths are out of the area, but the Hydra agents have already made their appearance. Bucky fires round after round and Steve fends them off as much as he can. An agent sneaks up behind the Captain, Chrissy quickly takes aim and dispatches the thug with a few shots to the back. With no other options left, Chrissy pushes the button, closing the door. One of the Soldiers spots this and makes his way towards her. Catching the woman off guard, he backhands her causing her to slam against the wall. Blood appears at the corner of Chrissy's mouth, she feels dizzy. Eyes search the area, she can see Bucky staring back at her.
A roar of anger from across the room. Blinded by rage, Bucky's slashing and stabbing his way through the men in front of him. The ones blocking his path. His fists make contact with anything and anyone in his way. Arteries are split open, tendons slashed, throats torn wide. Still these men continue to pile onto him. His eyes never leave the man that struck her, that one is his. His death is going to be painful and slow.
"Buck!" Steve's doing the best he can to reach his comrade, dodging fists, bullets and knives. Shield slamming into faces. Knees, elbows and fists connecting with any aggressor. Then he sees it, pure anger, the Winter Soldier.
No control, Bucky begins his rampage. A man attacks the raging Soldier only to have his skull crushed against the pavement, helmet and all, by a metallic grip. Some lucky bastard lands a shot in the Soldier's thigh, earning him a flying knife to the throat as Bucky grunts out in pain. As the crazed Soldier continues to dismember the hostiles around him, Steve stands completely still, at a lost as to what he should do. "Buck…" He whispers.
Firearms ran out of bullets a while back, so the Winter Soldier is forced to use hand to hand, not a problem. His metal fist easily pushes through human ribs and muscle. He crushes throats with little ease. With every movement there's a spray of blood, a scream of pain, an animalistic grunt. Bones crack, bodies fall to the floor. A pained expression appears on Bucky's face whenever someone lands a lucky blow, but that's it, he continues his task, without hesitation or complaint.
The last man, the original one the Asset had his eyes on to begin with, charges towards him. Bucky dodges each fist and kick with little effort. As the Hydra soldier pulls out a knife and attempts to slash his opponent's chest, Bucky elbows him in the face and then steps back, allowing the man to charge him once more. A cat toying with the mouse. The man lashes out, misses, throws an uppercut and misses the Asset's jaw, then receives a knee to the gut. Bucky pulls the man's right arm up and snaps it. There's a cry of pain.
"Buck stop!" Steve's trying to sound commanding. This display of violence becoming overwhelming, even for him. From the corner of his eye, the Captain can see Chrissy, just as concerned. The woman tosses her weapon aside and Steve brings his attention back to his friend.
The Asset glares over his shoulder, and then turns sharply, shoving his tactical knife in the man's windpipe. He's dying, slowly, choking on his own blood. Bucky kicks the body of the Hydra agent aside.
Finally done with the men that were attacking him, the Winter Soldier glares at the Captain from the corner of his eyes. The room is now still. The only noise heard is that of the broken glass and tile falling from the walls or the sizzling of the split wires and broken lights. Glaring at the man in blue, the Soldier remembers something about this man, a mission. Covered head to toe in gore and blood, he stalks towards the man with the shield.
"Don't do this." Steve raises his hands. "You're my friend. We're here on an extraction mission together. Please...Buck…" He really doesn't want to have to fight this man, again. Steve readies his stance and shield, the Soldier pulls back his metal fist.
"No! Stop!" Chrissy's standing before Steve, her arms spread out from her sides.
"Chris, move." Steve's terrified that Bucky may end up accidentally killing the woman before him. However, to his surprise, the Soldier halts his advancements. "Chris…"
"Your name is James Barnes. Take a few deep breaths, nice and slow." Her hands are still, displayed at her sides, palms up, not a threat. "Your friends, like myself and this man behind me, call you Bucky." The Soldier's eyes dart from her face to analyze the man in blue. "Steve put the shield away."
The man does as the woman requests. A kind smile appears on her face. "That's it, nice, steady, deep breaths." Bucky's eyes close for but a brief moment, taking in a long deep inhale, his fists relaxing. "You're on an extraction mission, just like Steve said. You just helped save a bunch of kids from a horrible imprisonment."
"They were in cells…" Bucky's eyes are searching the room, there's blood on the walls, floor and ceiling. He's confused, lost. "Oh God...What did I do?"
Chrissy takes a few steps closer, hands slowly reaching out. "You were protecting me and Steve. You might have went a little too far, but you didn't hurt any of the children or any of us."
Bucky's hand reaches for hers. Then he notices the warm grime and blood dripping from his finger tips, wet and thick. Eyes widen with horror and he backs away quickly. "Don't...stay away…"
Suddenly very aware of the sticky feeling all over any of his exposed skin and hair. Blood and gore. Hair clings to his face, clothing soaked through with death. Bodies lie still everywhere. Entrails and limbs scattered all along the floor. Bucky's right hand rests against his stomach, he feels sick. The Soldier looks down at his trembling hand as he takes a step back. He empties the contents of his stomach in the large garbage bin nearby.
"Bucky, wait right here a minute. Alright?" He doesn't acknowledge her, but he doesn't move either, too weak and nauseated. Chrissy quickly turns on the showers. "Steve."
Rogers is staring at his friend's back, in shock, standing as stiff as a statue. He knew how dangerous Bucky was, could be, but he didn't realize how much anger could fuel his movements. The Winter Soldier took over and it was all done in a matter of minutes. The entire thing, like it was done hundreds of times before, as fluid and as quickly as a dance that had been rehearsed over and over.
"Get him some clothes. A towel. First aid kit, gotta get him stitched up, I think there's a few bullets..." Steve needs something to focus on and she knows it. "Steve!" She needs him to concentrate right now.
"I'm not leaving you here…" It's Bucky, he knows this, but for how long?
"I'm fine. It'll take you five minutes." She reassures. "He needs to be cleaned up before the kids see him, and I don't think it's good for him to stay like that."
"But what if...Chris...Buck would hate himself even more if you got hurt…" His eyes remain glued to the sight of his friend.
Chrissy shakes her head. "He's not going to do anything to me...please Steve…"
"Fine. Five minutes." Steve finally agrees and rushes back to the jet.
Carefully, the woman makes her way over to the distraught man and places a hand on his back. Noticing her proximity, Bucky moves away from her quickly.
"It's ok. Come on." Chrissy ushers as she points to the showers and holds out her hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Hesitantly, he grasps the small hand. Immediately disgusted with himself when he feels the blood and whatever else smear against her flesh. The woman leads him to the running water and stands in it, gently tugging on his arm pulling him into the warm spray. It's hard to tell where he has been wounded, caked in his own and the blood of the others, he needs to be cleaned.
Looking down at his boots, Bucky can see the water mixing with the filth and sludge as it goes down the large drain. Oh God. Crimson is running down the Soldier's face, he can feel it, taste it. Chrissy takes off her sweater, soaks it and uses it to clear his face from the human remains. The woman is gentle as she looks up at him, scrubbing his cheeks and forehead. Not blinking, blue eyes remain wide open, terrified, knowing what he did, could do. Bucky continues to stare into her own eyes and swallows a lump that's caught in his throat.
"There now you can see." A weary smile. Chrissy looks up, her eyes seeking his face for permission as she unclips the buckles of his jacket. Bucky only continues to watch her movements as she pulls down the zipper and helps him slip out of the slimy coat. It falls to the tiled floor with a sickening wet and sticky sound. Thick and red, the water continues to drain.
"I need to find where they've hurt you." Her fingers are waiting patiently at the bottom hem of his shirt, he nods and lets her ease the grimy clothing up and off of his frame. Quickly tossing the filthy shirt aside, she's shocked to discover several gashes along his rib cage, back and arm. Only a few continue to bleed severely. She knows the gunshot wound on his thigh will need immediate attention.
Drained and queasy. The Soldier drops to his knees, wraps his arms around the woman's waist and presses the side of his face against her abdomen. Her fingers are in his hair, helping the water rinse away any more gore. She can see the wounds on his torso that are still bleeding. The familiar sting of tears in her eyes, but she forces herself to shake it off.
The echos of quickly approaching boots catches their attention. Bucky shuts his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. Terrified of what might happen to him now. If he's lucky they'll just lock him up, toss away the key, but who is he kidding? Luck? After this display, he'll be fortunate if they give him a quick and painless death. They have injections for something like that now, right?
Steve and Clint are back. The Captain places some dry clothing and a first aid kit on the stainless steel table. Barton stops in his tracks.
"Holy shit…" Clint's eyes are surveying all of the dead men, then his gaze lands on Bucky, who's still covered in God only knows, clinging to the small woman's form. He can see that there was enough blood to stain the Soldier's bare skin on his back and chest pink. He begins searching cupboards and drawers. Finding what he was looking for, Clint makes his way towards Chris. "Here…"
"Thanks." She smiles warmly and takes the bar of soap from his hand. Quickly she works up a lather and scrubs Bucky's hair and scalp. It's a messy job and she's doing her best to not let it bother her stomach. He's just so covered. The bubbles are bright red as they trail down his body and into the drain. The grip around her waist tightens.
"Tell me what to do…" Steve needs direction. Something, anything, to help.
"Can you contact Logan for me. Tell him what's happened all the way up to this point." Chrissy's still focusing on the trembling man in the shower. "He can help...I know he can."
Steve nods, that might just work. "I'll call him as soon as we leave."
Chrissy kneels down, lathers up a corner of her stained sweater and washes Bucky's face once more. The Soldier is trying his best to avoid her gaze. Right there, Steve sees it, patience and understanding radiating from the woman like a beacon. This is her calling.
"I know you're tired, but Steve got you some clean clothes. I'll let you get washed up, I'll just be over there." She points to the other side of the table. "I won't look, but I won't leave. Alright?" The Soldier nods. "We need to tend to those wounds Bucky, some of them are really bad. And I know for a fact you were shot at least once." Again, he nods.
Clint stands in the water and grabs the other mand by the arm. "Come on man, I'll help you up. Clean up and then we'll take a look at those gashes." The woman mouths a thank you in his direction, to which Barton shrugs.
Chrissy places the soap in Bucky's hand. "It's ok. We will go over what happened later. You're safe, we're all safe. You didn't do anything wrong."
A shaky breath leaves the tired man as he stands. Chrissy gives him a final reassuring look before making her way towards Steve. The Captain hands her a towel.
"Got you some clothes as well." He hands her a pair of slacks and a sweatshirt.
"I'm just a little wet Steve…" She snickers, but stops when Steve points at the two-way glass that reflects her image. Clothing heavily stained. Her face contorts into a small grimace.
"I don't think it would be a good idea to look like that in front of the kids."
Chrissy nods. "Could you…turn around please."
Steve turns and shields her naked form from the other men by standing in front of her as she changes. When she's done the Captain picks up both her and Bucky's soiled clothing and tosses them into a bag.
"Steve?" She's curious, why the hell would he keep any of this.
"I'm not leaving anything behind. You never know…"
Steve spots his friend sitting in a chair quietly, unmoving, as Barton carefully pulls a bullet from his left thigh. Hawkeye stitches the hole and then sets to work on the other wounds. After applying antiseptics and gauze Clint hands Barnes a dark grey t-shirt. "There all patched up. Some of my best work too."
"I heal fast." Bucky informs as he pulls the shirt over his head. He's clean but his hair is still dripping wet, bandaged, but still sore and tired.
"Better?" Steve lifts a brow. This man must hate him now. Barnes can't even seem to look in his direction.
Bucky doesn't reply, only continues to focus on the floor beneath his feet. Clint pats the other man on the shoulder and then heads towards the doorway. "Let's get going."
The Soldier isn't moving. Steve looks at Chrissy, he's terrified that Bucky might be regressing. He doesn't know what to do.
"Come on sweety." Her hand slips around his and Bucky squeezes it gently.
"I'm sorry you both had to see that…it's what I am." He's disgusted with himself. How could they not be? A gentle kiss is placed on his cheek. Shocked he stares at the woman by his side.
"Let's go home."
Did she really just do and say that? Even after witnessing, this appalling behaviour, he's still welcome back? He was certain she'd beg Steve to take him away or just leave him here to rot.
"What? You want me to go back?" His eyes display every ounce of what he's feeling, frightened, lost and distressed.
"I'll give you a minute." Steve informs Chrissy softly and leaves the room.
"Bucky, of course." She drags the back of her fingers against the side of his face. He can't help but lean into the warm contact, relieved. "It's your home as well, I'm not leaving without you."
A small sob escapes him. Chrissy wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close. "I told you before, you're always safe and welcome there. I meant it." He buries his face in her shoulder, arms are tight around her frame, still in disbelief. Pulling away, she wipes his tear streaked face.
"So are you coming with me?"
The Soldier nods, shut his eyes and takes in a deep breath. Chrissy leads him back to the jet, her hand gripping his tightly the entire way. They follow Captain America and Hawkeye. Not once does Bucky look up, even as he takes a seat in the aircraft, his eyes remain glued onto the floor. He can't bare to face Steve right now. The man has to be upset and repulsed. Disappointed.
The Quinjet lands in the front yard. Chrissy says her goodbyes as Bucky makes his way towards the house.
"Keep me updated on these kids. If Xavier won't take them…" Chrissy informs as Steve hugs her tightly.
"You know I'll call you first thing." Steve's eyes follow Bucky's retreating form. "Take care of him...but Chrissy please be careful. He's my friend...but…" He's well aware of what the Soldier is capable of.
"You know I will."
"I'm sorry." He squeezes her frame once more. "I never meant…"
"These kids needed our help. It's done with. I'll call you soon." Chrissy kisses his cheek quickly and heads home.
Jakes wagging his tail when Chrissy greets him at the door. "Who's a good boy?" She receives a few licks and a happy bark. "Where'd Bucky go?" She heads upstairs and finds the Soldier in his room, sitting at the edge of the bed.
"I should leave." He's rubbing his hands together, anxious and scared. "You're in danger if I stay here. And I'm too much of a risk for Steve."
Clearing her throat, Chrissy takes a seat beside him. "Well it's your choice, but I'd prefer if you'd stay." She wraps her hands around his arm and rests her head on his shoulder. "You shouldn't let a setback discourage you."
"You call that...a setback?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "I viciously tore apart over ten men in under five minutes. I was going to kill Steve...I could have killed you." Those words, how he says them, menacingly.
"But you didn't…" Her hand tilts his face towards her. "Those men...wouldn't have shown us any mercy and the Winter Soldier in you knew that. I know they didn't deserve...that...but it's still not your fault as much as you'd like to think it is."
"Don't rationalize this."
"You're not perfect, you're still learning, still healing. It'll take time and you need to give yourself that." Chrissy rubs a thumb along his jaw. He's upset, that's understandable. "I'm not going to force you to stay, but it's hard for me to just let you leave when you've made so much progress." She sighs. The thought of him leaving, trying to cope on his own after something like this, stings.
"But I was going to kill Steve…" He repeats, as if everything he's trying to explain is hidden in that sentence. Steve the man that represents everything good, honest and brave. And he was going to pull his heart out through his rib cage and Chrissy had been standing in the way. Moisture builds in his eyes, he blinks and can feel tremors starting in his core.
Chrissy gently brings his head down onto her chest and leans back into the bed. She strokes his hair and rubs his shoulders blades. When the shaking in his body stops, her shirt wet with sweat and tears, he pushes himself up on his elbows. Nose grazing her chin as he starts to sit up. Suddenly, he realizes how close they really are. He should sit, back away and tell her he's fine now, but he doesn't.
"I'll stay." He whispers, voice still shaky.
"I'm glad to hear it." Fingers push hair behind his ears, sending shivers down his spine. "I should let you get some rest." Chrissy sits up and slides off the bed.
"Don't go…" Metallic fingers gently circle her wrist and he sees her hesitate. A thought occurs, maybe after today, things are different, she's probably going to be more cautious around him now, maybe even a bit scared.
"How'bout I shower and come right back? Is that alright? I really want to be in my own clothing." Her thumb is gently caressing his left hand, unafraid. "You should do the same."
"You're not...frightened?" He's baffled, she should be, but why on earth would she ask him to come back home if she was.
Confused, Chrissy's face goes through a mix of emotions. "Of what? You?" Bucky tilts his head and chews at his lip. Sighing, Chrissy rubs the side of his face with her hand. "No, Bucky. I'm not afraid of you. Just worried for your well being. Alright? I'll shower and change, then I'll be right back. Promise."
She leaves the room, and he feels the anxiety in his core build. All the what ifs.
What if Steve decides it's better to not have anything to do with him anymore?
What if he accidentally ever hurts someone he cares about?
What if…
Bucky heads to the washroom, removes his shirt and stares at himself in the mirror. Steve's shield, it's still bright, still there on his shoulder. Still a reminder. These people they believe he can continue to be a better person.
What if they're wrong?