You scramble for the gun under your pillow, heavy breaths racking your body. You blink at the darkness with your finger tight against the trigger; after a few seconds you fall back onto the bed panting. Nightmares. Again. You set your gun down on the bedside table, covering your face with your hands for a few heartbeats before you climb to your feet. The faint morning light illuminates the dingy motel room around you and your eyes catch on the file you had left lying on the counter of the kitchenette the night before. You make your way over, hitting the lightswitch with your palm and flip open the cover. You pick up the picture just inside: a yellowing photo of James Buchanan Barnes. He's barely recognizable as the man you know; a sergeant's hat sits jauntily on top of his head while his lips are curled in a cocky smile. You set it down and pick up the second photo, this one is instantly recognizable as the Winter Soldier; cold blue eyes look out from beneath shaggy brown hair.
With a sigh you shut the folder and toss it into the duffle bag sitting on the sofa. You were paid through until the end of the week but… Something had you on edge. It was time to go.
A clink grabs your attention and you freeze in place, listening carefully. Footsteps on the fire escape; three pairs. You silently walk backwards into the bedroom and pick up your pistol. In the living area you can hear the window slowly sliding open. You stand with your back against the wall next to the door, gun at the ready. As the first person enters your bedroom you cock the gun, pressing it against the side of their head. "Don't fucking-" You blink, "Jesus Christ Steve," You breathe, "What the hell were you thinking? I was half a second away from blowing your head off." You shove your gun into the waistband of your sweats, "Who's with you?"
"Hey gorgeous," Sam comes up behind Steve with a wide smile, hands held up, "Long time no see. Is that a .45 in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"
"Both," You admit with a small smile of your own, "I've left you both a dozen messages, what the hell is going on? Steve I-Wait. Who else is with you? Nat?"
"Have you seen the news?" He interrupts.
"That's what I was trying to tell you," You say, exasperated, "That wasn't him-the bombing-It couldn't have been. I know where he is-"
"Romania," Steve interrupts and you blink stupidly.
"How did you know that?"
"Buck," Steve says quietly.
"What-" Your mouth moves soundlessly for a moment when he steps into view, before your brain finally catches up with your eyes. "Hey soldier," You say finally, "It's been awhile."
"Bucky," He says. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he gives you a small smile.
You can feel everyone's eyes on the two of you and you force yourself to break the extended eye contact, "Were you followed?" You shift your eyes to Steve's face.
"Doubtful, but we should keep moving," Sam says, "What's up with the roach motel anyway? I think I liked your apartment in the city a little more."
"Yeah me too," You smile, "Then Stark called and started talking about the Sokovia accords; I don't know why he thought I would come in; if the government knew who I was I'd either be dead or in prison. So I ditched everything and got out of Dodge. I've been moving every few weeks, can't be too careful I guess. How did you even find me?"
"Called in some favors," Steve tells you, "And Bucky knew your old aliases. We took a shot, and here you are."
"So what's going on?"
"I'll explain on the way," Steve runs his hand through his hair, "We need to pick some things up."
"Sounds good," You grab your tactical suit off the dresser, "Just let me slip into something a little more...bulletproof," You say, sending Sam a wink.
"We'll be outside," Steve nods.
"You," You lock eyes with the Soldier, "Stay for a second." When the other two leave you peel off your shirt, watching as the Soldier looks pointedly away. "So, you remember me?"
"Yes."
You kick off your sweatpants and pull on the one piece tactical suit before sitting down on the bed to pull on your boots. The Soldier finally looks at you. "Last time I saw you you shot me," You tell him.
"I'm sorry," His eyes flicker down again, "They wiped me, fed me a bunch of-"
"I know," You interrupt, "I'm not mad, I'm impressed," His eyes land on yours, "Didn't think you had it in you. I mean, you were probably aiming for something two feet from me but-"
"Oh is that how it is?" He gives you another small smile as you climb to your feet, holstering your pistol, "You outshoot me one time and it's all I hear."
"I'm entitled to give you shit now and again," You tell him, looking over your shoulder as you head to the door, "Afterall, you shot me twice."
