Oh man! After reading some of the reviews left on the last chapter I got so motivated!
So, I give you another chapter! I hope this is what you wanted!
It was about 12:30 pm, and six days into their time at the safe house. Steve walked out from the back and looked around.
"Where's Max?" His hands were at his hips and he was a bit tense because he couldn't find Max anywhere. Bucky slowly sat up from laying on the couch in the sun, where he had fallen asleep flipping through a catalogue.
"I think she mentioned wanting to go outside." He rubbed his eyes and looked around. "Her boots aren't by the door, she must have gone out."
"How long ago did she go out?" Steve was walking toward the door, swinging on his jacket.
"Maybe," Bucky searched for a clock. "Twenty minutes ago?" He turned back to Steve who was looking out the window and pulling on his own boots.
"Did she say where she was going? What she was doing? Anything?" Steve searched the white snow for any sign of Max.
"Whoa, smooth your feathers. She's fine, she's got nowhere to go." Bucky got up from the couch and moved to the door. "She's out there." A few more moments of searching. "Isn't that her, in her grey hat?"
"She's not moving!" Steve threw the door open and rushed into the snow. "Max?" He ran as fast as he was able to in the snow almost up to the knee. "Max!"
A grey hat and a head of hair popped up, and shortly, big brown doe eyes were watching Steve as he slowed down. "What's wrong?" She asked as Steve came upon her.
He paused for a second, trying to grab onto his swift reaction. "Nothing." He responded finally. "I just, needed to find you."
"Well you found me." She laughed briefly and stood up.
"Why were you laying in the snow?" Steve asked, trying to keep the demanding tone out of his voice. She hadn't actually done anything wrong, he didn't want to give her the impression he was upset.
"Because there's so much of it!" Max smiled and glowed. "I don't think I've ever gotten to experience this much snow!" She threw her arms out and leaned back, falling into a mound of the stuff and howling with laughter. "Try it!"
"Pass. I just came to check on you." Steve turned to leave, but Max hastened to get up.
"No wait!" She stood up and brushed herself off. "Actually, I'm glad you're out here. There's something I wanted to talk about."
"Go for it." Steve commented, sticking his hands into his pockets.
"So I did some wandering around the place, and believe it or not there's a basement. Not much to that really, a bunch of concrete, super cold; but in the basement was something super cool." Max paused, and when Steve said nothing she pressed on. "A big old wooden case! It's got a few rifles in it, and the ammunition is right next to it. What do you say? Me and you, some trees between us and the house and a whole lot of target practice?"
He looked at her in stunned silence. She was serious. She actually wanted Steve to put a gun in her hands.
"I know what you're thinking, but I promise I'll be responsible and help you clean up. Besides, I'd have to learn eventually! I don't ALWAYS want to fight hand to hand. I know they're not exactly what I need to get used to, they're probably for hunting, but none of us hunt. So come on! I already know a little bit and I'm not asking for that much!"
"Max," Steve interrupted. "Slow down. Let me think about it."
"You can't ignore this." Max blurted out. "I'm gonna end up with a gun in my hands eventually. I just want my first lesson to be with you." Max's face had hardened slightly. She was right; eventually she would likely end up needing to fire a gun, and Steve wanted nothing more than her safety. He had already seen a bit of talent from her, so she wasn't entirely inexperienced. One more thing that made Steve uncomfortable. Where had she learned that.
"Alright." He conceded. "On one condition. This is my field, so you'll take orders from me, are we clear?"
"Yes sir." There was that look of determination. Her time of acting like a child was over again, and this was all student.
They trekked into the trees, much deeper than they needed to go. Max didn't complain, she understood, Bucky was still in recovery and until he was ready there was no way Steve would put him in any situation like this. He knew where they were and why they were out there, and he admitted he would probably put on some music and find a way to pass the time.
Once they found a good spot, Steve set up some empty cans out in front and finally looked at Max. Her face was softer than it had been, but she wasn't exactly smiling. Her jacket was zipped all the way up and her hair blew gently in the slight breeze.
"It's an informal lesson, but it's something." Steve began. Max nodded quickly. He slid the strap off of his shoulder and held in in front of him. "You'll start out with the .22, it's the smallest and the easiest to learn with."
"Sure." Max nodded again and waited. She could sense that Steve was apprehensive, so she didn't reach for anything. When he finally handed it to her, she took it carefully, pointing down range and mumbled a 'thank you' so he knew she had a hold on it before letting go. Max moved to open the bolt action and peer into the chamber, checking that it was unloaded.
"What's the first rule of gun safety?" He asked quickly.
"Which set?" Max responded.
"Give me all of them."
"The three A's; Always keep the gun pointed in a safe direction. Always keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot. Always keep the gun unloaded until you're ready to use it.
Then there are the eight other rules:
Know your target and what's beyond. Know how to use the gun safely. Be sure the gun is safe to operate. Use the correct ammunition. Wear eye and ear protection. Don't operate a gun under the influence. Keep the guns unacceptable to authorized persons. Be aware of any additional safety precautions depending g on the firearm." Max watched Steve as he watched her.
"You did your homework." He commented.
"I've been, waiting for you to take me out for a while." Max admitted a little sheepishly.
"What are we missing?"
"The glasses and ear plugs are in the bag." Max piped up, proud that she remembered.
There were plenty of additional questions. Steve put Max through the wringer, looking for any reason that she shouldn't be allowed to shoot, but Max rose to the occasion.
She was ready.
On some level Steve felt guilty. No one had questioned him so intensely, they had shoved a gun in his hands and essentially told him to point and shoot. This was different. This was Max.
"Max, why is this so important to you?" Steve asked. They held eye contact for a few moments before Max responded.
"What if I need to protect you? Or Bucky? Or myself? Or anyone else?" She asked. "I want to be prepared. I'm going to need it." She tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "Besides, isn't this a right of passage or something? Teaching me how to shoot?"
"I think you already know how to shoot. I've seen it."
"All that was, was a few videos on how to cheat cheaters at the games. Honest." Max looked up at Steve. "Now are we gonna stand here all day, or are we going to learn something?"
Steve softened slightly and turned down range. "Keep it tight against your shoulder."
"Got it." Max pulled the butt up against her shoulder and leaned into the stance.
"Don't forget-"
"Inhale, trigger squeeze, exhale." Max smiled slightly. "Thanks for trusting me."
"Shoot. Don't make me regret bringing you out here." Steve glanced over, a felt a small touch of pride. She listened so attentively, she answered every one of his questions.
It wasn't very loud and Max didn't flinch at all from the kickback. Sure enough, one of the cans was knocked off it's perch and Max lowered the barrel just enough to fully take in her small victory. She looked at Steve, as if to gain his approval, and he was glad to give it to her.
"Line up again, we aren't done." Max pulled the bolt back, tossing the spent brass out and into the snow. The next bullet was loaded and this pattern continued on for a while.
Eventually Max got cocky.
"That was a great shot." Steve commented after another can went flying.
"Exceeding your expectations?" Max responded with a coy smirk, emptying the chamber again. "I totally get it, I'd be happy to watch me too." Without thinking Max pulled the gun back and the hot barrel fell right against her neck.
The reaction was instant. Before Steve could move, she tossed the gun down and grabbed her neck. A few curses left her lips, but more than anything she struggled not to cry.
"Max! Let me see!" Steve reached to touch her but she drew back from him in a flash and looked at him with fear in her eyes.
"N-no. I'm fine." Tears clung to her lashes, but the look of fear spread over her face.
"Max, you're burned." Steve took another step closer, reaching for her, but she scrambled back again.
"Stop!" She shouted. Her hand clasped tight over the mark. "Don't, don't come near me."
"Max I have to look at it." Steve responded, her behavior was very strange and concerning. "You're hurt, let me help you." He reached out for her again, brushing her cheek, but she pulled away quickly trying to back up. She tripped in the deep snow and fell backwards. Her hand was still clutched protectively over her neck. Steve reached to help her up, but she screamed and kicked, shouting "No!" "Don't touch me!" and "Stop!". Steve drew back, and looked at Max. There was still so much fear, just like that night in the dark. Only this time, Max was afraid and she wouldn't let him help her.
"Max, you can trust me." Steve murmured. That seemed to strike Max in the wrong way.
"No." She breathed. She scrambled to get up and began running away. Even as Steve called after her Max kept running. He tried to chase her, but Max was too smart, weaving through trees, under branches, places too small for Steve to fit. He lost her.
She ran all the way back to the safe house. She looked behind her and sucked in a deep breath. Steve was nowhere to be seen. She scooped up a handful of snow and pressed it to the burn mark, opening the door and walking inside. She passed through the living room and walked for the bathroom.
"Back so soon?" Bucky called from one of the bedrooms where he was taking the time to slide the plates back into his arm. He got no response, only the bathroom door slamming. When he didn't hear another set of footsteps, he quickly slid everything back together and went to investigate.
"Max?" He called warily. There were wet footprints leading straight to the bathroom. He knocked twice. "Max I know you're in there."
"I'm fine." She called back. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, holding the snow to her neck and feeling it soak her clothes. "Don't worry, I'm fine."
Something about the way she sounded didn't sit right with Bucky. He opened the door and found her sitting there, and she looked scared.
"You are not fine." He spoke quietly. He shut the door behind him and carefully walked over. Max drew back, afraid, but Bucky only sat down next to her. There was silence for a while before Bucky spoke. "Max, what happened?"
"I'm fine, just go."
"Max you are not fine." Bucky countered. "What happened out there? Why are you holding your neck? Why are you wet?"
"I said I'm fine!" Max snapped.
"Max," Bucky spoke as gently as he was able. "Why won't you let me help you?"
"Because I can take care of myself."
"No. This is more than that, I'm not stupid." Bucky sat there and looked at her. She was in pain. He knew that feeling. He knew the expression on her face, stubborn. Different times, different places, but all too familiar. "Max look at me."
She sat still as a statue. Stubborn.
"Max, look at me when I'm talking to you!" Bucky raised his voice. He didn't want to, but he had been here before, with someone else. Defiant. Stubborn. "You're being a little punk right now, and I don't like it!"
Finally she turned to him.
"What happened?" He asked again, quiet.
"I got burned." She mumbled, looking at the floor.
"Let me see it."
"No!" She threw up a wall again.
"Max, let me see it." Bucky remained firm. "Whatever it is, we can take care of it."
"I can take care of it!" Max pushed back.
"I know." He said. "I know you can take care of it, so let me take care of you. Let me see how bad it is. We can handle this, together."
She looked at him for a long time. Scrutinizing every part of his face, his body language; everything. Finally, her hand slackened just slightly and she spoke again.
"Swear." She said. "Swear to me that if I let you see, it stays between us."
"I swear." Bucky responded. Max carefully held out her empty hand, and Bucky took it and looked her in the eyes. "Max, I swear."
Slowly Max dropped the hand against her neck, revealing cold and wet skin, drenched clothing, and an angry red mark. He needed to get a closer look at it, so he pushed the hair out of the way.
Max turned her head away, tears welling up.
"I'm sorry." She whimpered. "I'm really sorry."
"Max," Bucky began, but he dropped off, speechless. He pushed her hair more out of the way, gaze no longer on the burn.
"I'm sorry." Tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
On the back of her neck, right under her hair line, as if it had been printed there,
Three numbers
245
"You can't say anything. You swore." Max sniffled, wiping her cheeks. "Not even to Steve."
"Max," Bucky began carefully. "What is this about?"
She moved away slowly, staring at the tiles on the floor.
"I can't tell you."