The Fixer

Don't Be A Gremlin

It was a stupid movie. These cute little things were space aliens that you couldn't feed after midnight. Otherwise they would turn into ferocious, meddling monsters; or something like that.

Yeah, that was the dumb ass thought that cut across Bucky's mind when his apartment was suddenly flipped upside down by a crazy person.

Eyes blank and staring dully, Bucky maneuvered out of the way of the remarkably strong woman tearing through his place. He woke to a knife blade at his throat and it kind of just devolved from there. It was easy to see why Steve was so reluctant to help Sleepers from this perspective. This woman was downright dangerous the way she came at him; attack after attack after attack.

He wouldn't refer to her at 'Katie' in that state; she was out of her head. Her face made him a bit reluctant to hurt her, but he finally managed to completely subdue her while she was midair in a flying leap toward him. After a brief struggle, she was facedown, teeth gritted and gnashing against the floor, his hands hooking her right leg and left arm together with a knee directly in her back. He fought against her to reach that black metal collar around her throat.

When they brought her back to the US after their little run in in London, he learned how to get her under control. You only had to be stronger than that particular Sleeper when they were in this state of unyielding animus. The fear was that holding a Sleeper was similar to gripping the pin of a grenade. Hold it long enough and you will eventually slip up and it'll explode, killing everyone around.

In the case of Katie, a grenade was an alarmingly truthful comparison.

Thrashing violently as a wild tiger in a trap, Katie nearly broke her own shoulder against his grip. Bucky did everything in his power to hold her still without hurting her too badly. Her shoulder socket popped unnaturally under his right hand as he tried to press the little, red opaque button on her neck. Snarling and screaming animalistcally low, she clawed and tore and forced her way away from him. Inch by inch she gained ground.

That is, until the collar lit up. An expression of mild curiosity crossed the lines of her face as her hand reached for her throat.

…Beep.

…Beep.

…Beep.

Screaming sparks exploded. Bucky flew backward in one direction, Katie in the other, only stopping when she buckled against the opposite wall.

Swimming through stars and bright lights, his mental status returned to see her crumpled against the wall, head folded forward with a white and black burn mark scribbled over her neck. His whole body felt jerky, his metal arm fell limp at his side, immobile. He imagined this was what it was like to be struck by lightning.

One green eye opened in a slit, followed closely by the other. Her eyes were uneven, one slightly wider than the other as she came to. She was dazed, but at least she wasn't trying to gouge Bucky's eyes out. So, that was an improvement.

"Mrrhmm..." She slunk closer to the floor, a set of tremoring fingers lifted to her scorched throat.

The super soldier across the room took a few tentative steps forward before waiting to see what she did next. He was both worried and weary. He wanted to make sure she was alright. But, he also didn't want her to get any closer to a door or window. Who knew what Hydra was telling her to do? The very thought of it burned Bucky. He hated that they could just do something like this without an ounce of humanity. Take control of a person and force them to do whatever they said. Katie wasn't violent, at least not in a harmful way. Aggressive, maybe. Okay, fine, she could be really aggressive. But never really violent.

He watched her face intently in the pale moonlight, but not a muscle moved. A slash of white light blanched the room, leaving it cool blue, black and gray. Angular shadows bisected the room into two broad planes, Katie remained rumpled in the shadows as he stood watching her from the light. Even in this dim exposure he could see the color of her eyes as they slowly opened and gained some clarity.

Without focusing fully, Katie started to realize what had happened. The screaming static in her head opened up a deluge of information that she couldn't exactly understand. Numbers and codes and words she didn't understand. Her throat felt drier than an old library book covered in dust. After a quick lick to her slightly cracked lips, she spoke like a fragile old doll and frightened as the child holding it, "Bucky."

A hand danced to her temple, blinking hard, once, to clear her head momentarily. Lips parted in a look of fearful awe. With an audible swallow, her voice gained traction; vine green eyes were clear and growing wider with budding self control as she lifted her chin to look at Bucky across the room. That was when she commanded with every sense of expected obedience: "Call. Steve. Now."

...

Back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Bucky received many a-scolding for keeping his defective girlfriend out past midnight like this was some kind of messed up Cinderella story. He ignored them and helped her get to the infirmary where he listened to every word the doctor said and actually understood the language for once. The burns on her neck would fade eventually, that was clear; but the static, tinny voices in her head; their half-life wasn't so certain.

Katie felt her breaking point approaching rapidly when the doctors asked her to speak everything she heard into a recorder. Then they got mad at her because the words didn't make any sense. It wasn't her fault that these… these 'sendings' were completely unclear! She couldn't even figure out what to call them, less what they were about!

The running theory was that when the collar cut off the positive feedback loop that was causing her to compulsively follow the orders projected into her mind, it rewired the system. She could hear everything they were commanding her to do without following the orders blindly. The good news was they now knew she wasn't totally insane. Though, Bucky would wholeheartedly dispute that claim with an exaggerated eye roll.

Katie was quickly starting to feel like the antihero of her own story. Tragic background? Check. Evil parents? Check. Started out an antagonist? Sort-of-check. Switched sides at the last minute to save the world? Well, that was yet to be determined, but she really hoped she could help save all the people Hydra was hurting.

There was a gnawing feeling in the back of her mind that she somehow caused this all to happen. She didn't reject the K2 treatment of her cancer, thus basically making her a willing Hydra experiment. The guilt that came with that was unimaginable. Especially when she remembered how adamantly Bucky fought with her to quit. But the other side of that coin was that without the treatment she would have died. Just died. And there would still be thousands of people with this affliction being turned into killing machines. Without her those people would have no hope of a cure, because all of them would have gone off like a mininuke. So, in some ways it was a good thing she became a victim. It was curious why she hadn't exploded yet.

It was a very confusing feeling to be both the cause and cure of a terrible malaise.

So far the only sending that made any sense was one that commanded her to break into D.C.'s main air travel hub using all kinds of techniques she didn't comprehend and plant a bomb. The only reason she knew what it said was because it was the only one sent in English. A lot of questions followed her explanation to Director Coulson. Did she really know how to disconnect a jet turbine? Or how to reroute a security system? Could she build a fusion bomb?! It was deeply disturbing to think she was capable of those things without ever learning them. But at the same time, secretly, she found it fascinating.

She was formidable, and intimidatingly intelligent, but not in the way she had always hoped.

And somewhere across the world an angry redheaded man was smashing his fist bloody into his desk. He would do it in cycles. While he paced a hole in the floor he'd suddenly turn and split part of his already splintered desk with his bloodied fist. Peter wasn't taking the news that his microchip was overridden very well. He'd been heading this project for too long to watch someone ruin it, even if that person happened to hold one of the very small soft spots he had. He wanted to spare her, he had before several times, but it was becoming exceedingly difficult to prevent her death.

Hm, maybe soft spot was the wrong word. But there wasn't really a word for how he felt toward that woman. He didn't care for her in a loving sort of way. Instead he wanted to crush and fold her and keep her in his pocket. It was a selfish feeling. She was an important piece to his puzzle for a long time; their relationship allowed him access to K2's subject pool. The first few years went smoothly until she was diagnosed with cancer. That was when things took a turn.

He wanted to block her from being used as a subject, but her family had seen such success with his 'miracle drug' that they refused to deny her treatment. When Katie grew tempted to disobey his direct command, he relocated her and she quit all chemotherapy. Cutting her off from that wretched family was better. He owned a large portion of her family's corporation so it didn't matter if they interacted or not.

Vile as it appeared, he didn't want to see that chip implanted into her head. It repossessed a subject's body and put them at Hydra's whim, he liked to keep his personal matters exactly that: personal. If she was turned into a Sleeper then anyone at headquarters would be able to tap into her mind. Since Forscythe was not the type of man to close doors, he kept an exit strategy in the wings. If things went wrong with K2 and Hydra, he had somewhere to lay low and disappear. Katie was oblivious to his deceits until recently.

When he saw her in Spain, he had to explain what was happening to her. She wouldn't understand if it wasn't deconstructed into simple terms.

The chip rewrote DNA. But the real danger was the radioactive agent used in the place of the true alkylating agents found in chemo bags. This particular fluid was Forscythe's brainchild. He created, initially, to save his dying mother. But it was incomplete and she died anyway. So he continued working on it, changing coefficients and altering human DNA as he went.

The fluid was called Narcos, named aptly for its relationship with its host. It took any cancerous tissue and rendered it unproductive. It would slowly, over the course of several months, transfigure into pliable stem cell tissue. That tissue was then converted to a special type of cell, written and created by Foscythe himself, one that reabsorbs into the body. Every cell touched would then become stronger and better equipped for life than before. It took a lot of trial and error, but he finally found the perfect concoction. The chip directed these new cells as they were created and redirected by Narcos. The goal of the change was to convert a human into a reactor; every person with this drug in their system was being changed, slowly, into a weapon. The problem was that these reactors were fragile. Generally, the moment a heart ceased to beat, or the brain died, the Sleeper would begin to break down. The cells in what was once their heart would begin to falter and their body would be converted into a bomb.

Yet, now, standing at the threshold of a great victory, he found himself pacing.

Pacing. Of all banal things to do when one has finally achieved greatness.

All motion stopped at once. He froze as a thought blossomed in the back of his mind like warm poison. A creeping grin made its way across his lips as it solidified into something palatable. Something he could put into action. His old plan for his ex wife was a failure; this time he had no doubts.

He gathered a wound up ball of gauze and wrapped it lightly around his knuckles as he made his way out of the room to meet with his team. He needed his possession returned to him. In order to do that he needed to kill some S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives and now knew exactly how to do it.

A smile crept across his thin lips. Let the games begin.

…

Katie's lips wanted to smile; it was their basic shape. When she wasn't smiling she looked like she was scowling, an unnatural contortion of her face which caused her to look angry and dissatisfied. Right now she was not intending to give off such a vibe. She really was happy and contented, she just wasn't sure if she should be in light of what currently spiraled through her mind.

Bucky was here. He looked about as enthusiastic as she did. Maybe that was why Katie didn't correct her expression. The air wasn't quite right for happiness. It was strained and pulled tight as a drum.

The silence was killing her. Katie spoke, and the tense air crackled. "Are we okay?"

His eyes were soft and big and affectionate for a second before dimming back into their hard-set expression. He didn't say 'no', but he didn't say 'yes' either. Which told Kate that they were neither. Right now they were nothing. And that really stung. A nervous flush fluttered over her cheeks and she turned her eyes to the tiled floor.

Bucky was her escort around the facility and in between his training sessions and her tests it was difficult to talk. They had a few minutes alone right before parting for the night and tonight they found themselves thinking the same thing at the exact same time. What on earth is wrong with us?

It seemed that no matter where they went or what they did, things couldn't just be simple and normal like they'd been at the beginning. The magnetism between them never faltered or stuttered. It was always there, pulling constantly like the Jupiter's gravity on Io. In Katie's mind, Bucky was always Jupiter, and she was always the tiny moon that orbited closely, but still managed to reside 421,700 kilometers from its surface. Something about that analogy felt sad and accurate. And it was her own stupid fault. Why didn't she just tell him the truth when she realized she was falling in love with him? Why didn't she tell him she was sick?

Oh, right. Because she was afraid he'd leave her. In a way, that felt like a better option than the deep guilty pit that now lived deep in her belly.

If only she could see inside in Bucky's mind. There, she was Jupiter, bright and filled with miles wide storms, and he was Pluto, cold and desolate in the back of the solar system. Well, that wasn't exactly how he felt all the time, only right now when he was standing right in front of her but he could make himself move his mouth and talk to her. Usually he was more like Europa or one of the cooler moons. Even when she asked that question, he couldn't get control of himself. All he could think about was the fear of explosions.

Katie's heart stopped beating for a reason.

When that chip was planted in her head, another device began taking shape. She was a living bomb. And not in the sexy way. She was an explosive that could obliterate a city block. Just having her in this facility put everyone at risk. That was why she had to be put in carefully crafted containers throughout the day. Each room she was chauffeured to and from was a bomb containment chamber.

Her blood was radioactive. Every cell in her body was now made up of radioactive components. There was a type of natural reactor in her chest cavity made up of flesh that gave her that incredible strength. Since this discovery, every person around her was required to wear a film badge dosimeter to ensure that anyone exposed to the radiation was treated quickly. That was also the purpose of her current uniform. It covered her entire body in a tight suit made of a lead fiber to help suppress any waves that could come off of her. The only thing uncovered was her head. Her very, very pretty head.

She was suspected to be closer to exploding than her fellow Sleepers because her heart was entirely replaced with that new, unidentified organ.

That gave Bucky every reason in the world to distance himself. But of course being the idiot he was, he remained velcroed firmly to her side.

There was no cure yet. There was a distinct possibility that they would never cure the Sleepers. That they would have to be 'sedated and discretely disposed of'. To Hell with that. He was never going to let that happen to Kate. Even if he had to go find Forscythe and force it out of him, he was going to find a way to handle her problem safely.

He hadn't taken her out of captivity since that last time three weeks ago. They hadn't gotten to talk about much; they got a bit too distracted to work through everything. The good thing was since that night Bucky had decided to forgive her for lying, and hoped she could do the same. They both told lies, but in the end they were in this together. It was pretty clear that Katie wouldn't settle for normal and neither would he. Their fates were sewn together as tightly as the threads of a tapestry.

He looked at her, trying to read her and failing. She wasn't happy, not even a little. He could see it on her face. There was plenty going on behind those eyes of hers, but she seemed hesitant to say anything about whatever was on her mind. There was something vengeful about her lately. She was angry, really angry. If there was one thing he'd learned about her over the past year and a half it was that she was not the person to mess with. She was the kind of girl who would smile in your face then when you least expected it she'd put cyanide in your drink and just sit across the table with a smile on her face as you foamed out and died. And she was not the kind of person who'd get caught. She was too intense about the details to miss anything, and came off too sweet for anyone to suspect it.

Natasha once said in passing that a girl isn't right for you if she doesn't scare you a little.

Bucky couldn't help but wonder what had lit such an angry flame in his lover. When they first arrived here after her freakout she was shaken and small, now she was building into something else. She was focused. That is, she was focused around anyone but him.

Looking down at her pretty, round face he just wanted to shake her and make her be herself around him again. And yet, at the same time, he was the one who hadn't said a work to her in over a week.

Her brow quirked minutely, perfectly expressing the amount of panic she felt at his lingering silence, "Why won't you talk to me?"

Katie's voice wasn't the forceful thing he expected to hear. It was fragile as a snowflake; as if anything he said would liquefy that small pleading sound. She was on the teetering edge of giving up on him.

A sigh drooped his shoulders, "Sorry, there's a lot on my mind."

Relief brightened her eyes and that scowl lifted into its natural, smiling position. "I've gathered." She tucked a small, annoying flit of hair behind her ear. Without hairspray this length of hair was utterly impossible to control. Her hand hesitated over her ear and one corner of her lips lifted higher than the other, her face a faint flush. "I-I think I want to hug you."

Laughingly, Bucky flipped his hands out then folded his arms lightly, "You've never asked before, why start now?"

The color of her face deepened with a shy little laugh that morphed into a mischievous smirk. She launched up and bear hugged him around the shoulders, holding herself off the ground and taking the opportunity to take a whiff of his new cologne. It suited him. A laugh shook his shoulders as his arms floated around her, crushing her body to his as he thrashed about like a dog that caught a rodent. Squeals of pleasure bubbled from Katie as she buried her head into the crook of his neck, pressing a kiss there. He kissed her temple. She kissed his cheek. His eyes met hers as his lips touched the corner of her mouth, barely avoiding her lips. Her eyes lowered and touched her nose to the tip of his own, running it up the bridge until their lips met.

At some point her toes had wandered to the ground and her hands tangled their way into Bucky's short hair. His fell to her waist, thumbs running up her smooth, metallic sides. Kiss gave way to kiss, which gave way to another, and another. Breath was not only mingled, but exchanged and all she could taste, feel, or breathe was Bucky.

And as all good things must, the kiss tapered out until their foreheads were touching, noses grazing one another, breath still intermingled and warm against one another's lips.

The moment passed in silent bliss. This was his answer to her question earlier. Yes, they were okay. They were more than okay. They were alive.

…

Now how was she expected to tell him that she'd heard Forscythe's voice in her head? How was she expected to tell him that they were all doomed?

A/N: Hi all! I just have to say, I have the best reviewers on the planet. You guys are the bomb (not like Sleepers) and I'm so happy you like my story! I had to take a break from this one for a while because I was pregnant and crazy, then had a newborn and was even more crazy. But now that he's a little older and nap time is a bit more established I should be able to start cranking this out again. Please let me know what you think! This chapter was kind of like treading water, but it was pretty necessary to get back into things. Again, thank you guys so much for enjoying my story, I hope it continues to live up to your expectations!