Chapter 42: A New Day

The storm was gone by the time the sun started to rise, the first rays turning Mika's room a hazy, happy grey. Bucky woke long before she did, but felt content to simply lay beside her, feeling her breath on his chest and hearing her heart beat slow and steady as she slept. Usually the mornings were the worst time of day for him; there was always a moment, between his nightmares and being fully awake, that he wasn't sure who or where he was. But every morning he woke up next to Mika, he felt like he could center himself faster, and ground himself easier. His mother may have been disappointed (once upon a time) that he spent multiple nights shacking up with a girl, but he couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed. For the first time in a long time, he woke up completely content.

Mika's breathing changed as she started to slowly ascend from her deep sleep, and she rolled away from him with a sigh. The hem of his flannel dragged over her waist as she stretched her arms over her head before settling in for a few more moments of rest. His eyes scanned over her legs and the curve of her hip, the details of the black lace underwear lost in the early morning light. But just above the waistband, he saw three evenly spaced bruises. They were faint, but they were there, and he had a sneaking suspicion that there was a fourth hiding beneath the lace. He held his breath as he sat up, his heart pounding painfully as he lightly placed his hand on her, his fingers matching up with the bruises on her skin. His stomach dropped, and he moved his hand away from her, feeling ashamed of himself even as she woke up and looked at him lovingly.

"Good morning." she mumbled, reaching up to touch his hand. He shouldn't allow himself to hold her, but he selfishly craved her affection. His emotion must have shown on his face, because her brow furrowed as she asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I hurt you." he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. Her eyebrows pinched even further together, and she wondered what would ever give him that impression. His eyes drifted to her middle, and she pulled up the side of his flannel to see what was concerning him. It took her a moment to find what he was talking about, and while he was expecting her to be upset, or afraid, she simply chuckled.

"Lay back down. It's cold, I need you to keep me warm." she said, trying to tug him back next to her. He remained in a seated position, his eyes colored with concern and confusion. Did she not see what he was talking about? He knew his eyesight was sharper than most, but the bruises were rather evident, a thin line of purple on her pale skin.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." he said, and he looked so positively heartbroken that she pushed herself up so they could be face to face. If he hadn't pointed them out, she probably wouldn't have noticed them. They certainly didn't hurt.

"You didn't hurt me. I'm fine, I promise." she said, tenderly laying her hand against his cheek, her thumb brushing the scruff of his beard. How could she make him see that? He leaned into her hand, his blue eyes gazing at her as he tried to find any signs of deceit. There weren't any.

"Are you sure?" he asked, still hesitant, still afraid that last night had been a dream, still afraid that everything had been a dream and that he was going to wake up for real one of these days. She smiled encouragingly at him, leaning forward to lay a lingering kiss against his cheek.

"I'm positive." she replied, pulling back. He still looked hesitant, which made her heart break a little bit. She didn't want him to feel guilty over something that didn't bother her, she wanted him to feel happy about what had transpired between them. She certainly did. "It's not the first time I've ended up with a couple bruises, and hopefully not the last." she added with a Cheshire grin. He seemed to relax at that, shaking his head and letting out a low chuckle.

"Full of shit." he muttered. His heart was still pounding with his nerves, but at least his stomach had returned to its original position. Mika shrugged in response; it was true. She didn't mind if things got a little rough during moments of passion. He looked at her seriously again. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"I did. I really did." she responded, eagerly and truthfully. "Did you?"

"Very much so." he said immediately, his prompt response surprising her. He licked his lips and dropped his eyes, an emotion he couldn't quite describe swirling around in his chest, diluting the love and affection that was there. "I couldn't help but notice though, that you were...less than vocal."

Mika didn't know why she was surprised at this observation. After all, Bucky noticed everything. "That's just because I know you don't like loud noises." she said honestly. She could sing his name to the high heavens for how he made her feel the night before, but she hadn't wanted to risk making him uncomfortable. He laughed again at this, all his nerves now dissipating. He may notice everything, but she seemed to think of everything.

"Perhaps there's some loud noises I wouldn't mind." he said suggestively, giving her that trademark smirk.

"Duly noted." she said, playfully pushing his shoulder. He pretended the push was much harder than it was, falling back onto the mattress and tugging her with him. She giggled, accepting her fate and laying on his shoulder, their legs intertwined. She put her hand on his cheek again, this time directing his face so that she could give him a good and proper kiss, morning breath be damned. "I had a really, really good time."

"Double really, huh?" he asked, and once again his tone was laced with meaning. She laughed, nuzzling further into him.

"Double really." she replied, making her voice match his. She wished they could stay in this moment forever, wrapped up in each other's arms in the quiet morning. She wanted to tell him exactly how strongly she felt for him, but didn't want to push her luck. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, a similar thought circling in his mind, but as he opened his mouth to voice it, he was interrupted by her stomach rumbling loudly.

"Guess that means it's time for breakfast." he said, rubbing her back. She groaned, rolling slightly more onto him in an effort to prolong the moment. Breakfast could wait.

"But I don't want to get up." she whined, wishing that the bakery down the street would deliver right to their bed. But alas, they didn't even deliver to the door.

"What if I make it for you?" he bartered, though he also would be more than happy to stay right where they were. She let out a drawn out noise as she thought about his offer.

"But then you won't be here." she pointed out, making him laugh. He kissed her hair again, squeezing her tightly to him. He didn't want to let her go, but she was obviously hungry, and he felt his stomach gnawing at him as well. With the excess exercise the night before, he was ready for a big breakfast.

"But then we'll have food." he said, and she heaved a heavy sigh.

"If that's the price I must pay for sustenance...no, nevermind. It's too high." she said dramatically, making him roll his eyes. She still didn't move from her position, and her stomach growled so aggressively that he could actually feel it. His grumbled as well, almost in response to hers, which made her laugh and rub her hand over his abdomen. "Okay fine, I guess we shouldn't just starve to death."

"You stay here. I'll take care of it." he said softly, prying himself from her arms and immediately regretting it. She pulled the covers back over her, snuggling into the warm space he'd just vacated.

"I'll miss you." she said, her voice muffled by the comforter. The air was much cooler than under the blankets, which wasn't ideal, but he had to eat something. And she did too. It felt oddly normal, padding across her apartment in just his underwear to go inspect the contents of her kitchen. With a sigh, he realized he'd forgotten to go to the store yesterday, and the cupboards were pretty much bare. A glance out the window told him that at least the morning was clear, so he wouldn't have to worry about another random rain storm.

"You've got nothing in the kitchen." he said, coming back into her room to try and find his pants. They were still on the floor where she'd discarded them the night before, and she pouted as he picked them up and pulled them back on.

"Guess that means you have to come back to bed with me." she said suggestively, patting the spot on the mattress next to her. He felt his heart rate raise at the idea, and even if he was still hesitant about it, last night had proven that he could enjoy himself again. But as his stomach ached, he decided to take care of his literal hunger first.

"It means I have to go to the store. Any chance I'm getting that shirt back?" he asked, and in response she rolled over and laid spread eagle on her back.

"You'll have to take it off me and pay the toll." she replied. He laughed, shaking his head as he got onto the bed, carefully positioning himself over her. He was on his hands and knees, just as he'd been for a moment the night before, and she was looking at him with a hopeful expression. He leaned down to give her a searing kiss, her hands tangling in his hair. He kissed her for a moment before pulling back, smirking in response to her pout.

"I do have to eat something besides you today." he said, her jaw dropping as he moved off the bed again. She let out a frustrated groan as he put on his socks.

"You're a damn tease, you know that?" she said, poking at him with her toe. He grabbed her foot, pulling her just enough to make her squeal and pressing his lips to her knee.

"I'll be back before you know it." he replied. He very, very much wanted to do the things they did the night before, but the bruises were still in the back of his mind. He felt confident that he would have better control next time, but he still needed some time to process, time to get everything in order so that next time, next time, she wouldn't end up with his fingerprints on her skin.

"I'll be eagerly awaiting your return." she said, still a little salty that he was leaving her in such a state. He patted her knee once more before getting up again, this time going to the kitchen to retrieve his other shirt. He called a goodbye to her before exiting the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind him. As he walked down the stairs, he could still feel the grip of his past around him, but today it didn't seem as strong. When he got to the sidewalk, the day seemed brighter, the air clearer. Today, for the first time, he thought that things were actually going to work out just fine.

The market was a little busier than when he usually went, likely due to the later morning hour. But he didn't mind it so much. He went to his usual places, purchasing the vegetables and meat they would need for breakfast and lunch. He eyed the first harvest of peaches at a stand, but they were too green, not yet ripe. They wouldn't do for Mika; she preferred them sweet. He wandered through, looking through the fruit and trying to find something that was able to ripen in the early spring. The apples looked good, though they'd take too long to cook for breakfast. He purchased some anyways, figuring maybe she could make some more pies, since they lost theirs to the rain last night. Most everything seemed too early to buy, and he'd nearly accepted Mika's fate for cinnamon and cream again, when he spotted the plums at the very last stand. Their skin was dark purple, telling to the sweetness inside.

"How are they? Are they good?" he asked the man at the stand, who grinned and laughed jovially. Perhaps everyone was in as good a mood as Bucky this morning. He picked up a couple, inspecting them. Yes, these would do nicely.

"Very good, of course!" the man exclaimed, and Bucky was inclined to agree. The man pulled out a plastic bag, taking the ones he selected and putting them together for him. Bucky gave him the necessary cash before carefully tucking the plums away in his backpack, nestling them amongst the other foods so that they wouldn't bruise. Happy with his spoils, he started the trek back home.

The walk took longer than usual, thanks to the increased foot and street traffic. Bucky kept his head down, his habits to escape detection still strong despite all the other improvements he'd made. He stopped at a street, sirens alerting him and the other pedestrians to an approaching police car. He grew very still, waiting with the others as the car came and went. He took a deep breath, looking up to see if the light for the crossing had changed yet. That's when he noticed the man at the newspaper stand.

He hadn't been to the newspaper stand in a couple days, and at first he thought the young man was just recognizing his faithful customer. But Bucky could tell something was different. He was looking at him in a way that no one had in over two years: with fear. The light changed, and he slowly walked across the street with the rest of the pedestrians. The young man, now blatantly afraid of him, slipped away from his post and ran away. Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears; what was going on? What had he missed? He went up to the stand, pulling the newspaper to him. There, on the front page, was a man who looked like him. He scanned the article quickly, gleaning the basics. There'd been a bomb at a UN meeting, and a source that said he planted it. The entirety of Europe was looking for him.

He'd been found.

This time, he followed his instinct to leave, turning away from the stand and walking east. But he only made it a block before he slowed, remembering Mika, who was home alone with no knowledge of the events and no one to protect her if an enemy came looking. He turned on his heel, walking back to the apartment at double the speed he'd been going before. He had to warn her, had to make sure she was safe before he left. He couldn't stay, of course, as that would just put her into further danger. The little bubble they'd been living in happily for the past few months had burst, and now his only priority was making sure she was alright before he left to ensure her safety. He pulled out his phone as he walked, dialing a number that he'd added but never used. He hoped that Ion, the young man he used to work with at the warehouse, wasn't up to date on current events.

"M'lo?" he answered, obviously still asleep. Good, perhaps he would be blissfully unaware.

"Ion, it's Bu-Jones." he interrupted himself, remembering the pseudonym he'd given to the men at work. "I'm calling in that favor."

"Absolutely, Jones. What do you need?" Ion said, sounding much more awake now. He didn't seem to understand what was going on, which was well enough to Bucky. He didn't need him asking any more questions than necessary.

"I can't get into it now, but I'm going to send you an address and I need you to go there in an hour." Bucky said, his eyes scanning in a fast, efficient manner as he continued to walk home. Ion made a confused noise.

"This isn't like, a drug drop or anything, right?" he asked, and if Bucky hadn't been at the highest alert level, he might have laughed. But time was of the essence right now, and he couldn't afford to have his attention split for much longer.

"No. I need you to make sure Mika is alright." he replied. It killed him to ask another man to check on his girl, but he needed to be sure she'd have someone to support her. He wished he could call Hans, but he was too close to him. He didn't want to drag the bartender into this too. Ion was young, and they hadn't had contact since that day outside the cafe. No one would think of him, no one would know him.

"Jones, what's going on?" Ion dared to ask. Bucky sighed, shaking his head even though he couldn't see him.

"I don't have time to explain. Just promise me you'll go." Bucky said, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice. Ion picked up on it immediately.

"I promise. Just, be safe Jones, okay?" he asked, and again Bucky almost laughed. What a day for people to be sentimental.

"Thank you." he said, hanging up before Ion could continue the conversation. He typed a text as fast as he could with his one hand, sending him the address for their apartments and the number of Mika's. With that taken care of, he could focus on getting home to her. No one was surrounding the apartment yet, and no one gave him another glance on the sidewalk. Perhaps he'd have just enough time to say goodbye.

She didn't notice as he let himself in, humming along to the song playing through her speakers as she made coffee. She was stirring sugar into the cup he'd gotten her for Christmas, and another steaming mug was sitting next to it, likely holding a drink for him. She was still in just his flannel and her underwear, her thick winter socks letting her slide across the floor as she danced to the tune. Her hair was messy from sleep and her legs were bare, and for a moment he just blatantly stared at how beautiful she was, and contemplated how lucky he'd been. He wanted to remember this moment, likely the last time he would see her. As she turned to him with a smile that slowly fell, he knew his luck had run out.

"What is it? What happened?" she asked, concern painting her voice. He looked more worried than she'd ever seen him, and he didn't say anything, which only made it worse. She put down her mug, quickly crossing the apartment to take his hands. His breaths were short, as if he were holding it half the time. "Bucky, what's wrong?"

"They found me." he whispered, unable to make his voice any louder. It was one thing to think about leaving her when he was alone on the walk home, but now, with her right in front of him, he could feel his heart breaking. But he had to leave; he couldn't risk her getting hurt - or worse. Her eyes widened at his statement, her hands immediately going to his shoulders. Her eyes were unfocused for a second, and he knew that she was trying to see the puzzle, trying to solve it. But there was nothing she could do about this one.

"Okay, well, we need to pack then. If we go now, we can get on a train - I think I still have a friend from school in Athens, or...or...I have a friend in America, on the west coast, he'll let us stay with him-" she started to walk away, presumably to start gathering clothes, but he grabbed her wrist, halting her progress. She turned back to him, and he could see on her face that she was afraid of what he was going to say next.

"No, you have to stay here. It's me they want, and if they find you…" he couldn't finish the thought, let alone the sentence. He'd finally started healing after all the torture inflicted upon him by Hydra, and if she were to get caught in the crossfire, he had no doubt that he'd be broken beyond repair this time. "I can't risk you getting hurt. I can't risk losing you."

"But what if you get hurt? Bucky I - we can figure this out. We can do this together, we-" her voice was thick now, her throat tight with tears that hadn't quite spilled onto her cheeks. He'd been stabbed once, right into his heart. It hadn't been as painful as the way she looked at him now. He silenced her with his hands on her cheeks, the gloves making them seem even bigger against her face.

"I will come back to you." he said, and he didn't know why he was making a promise he couldn't keep. For the past seventy years of his life, he'd been wondering when he was going to die. Now that he was determined to live, it seemed his end was coming for him. But if he wanted to try to live, he had to escape, had to leave her behind. It may not be the worst thing he'd been through, but it still hurt in a way he didn't expect.

"Please don't leave me." she said quietly, her lower lip trembling as she spoke. She pressed her lips together to stop the quivering, and to try and bite down on the sobs that were threatening to escape. God, she never should have let him leave. She should have just made him stay in bed. She was terrified, not for herself, but for him. If she wasn't there to protect him, who would be?

"I have to. I'm sorry." he said, his own voice cracking with emotion. He could hear sounds outside the door - quiet, someone trying to be stealthy. He listened as they broke into his apartment next door. This wouldn't be a police force, this had to be someone operating outside the law. But who would do that for him? "Someone's in my apartment, I have to go. You stay behind the couch, and don't come out no matter what you hear, okay?"

"No, Bucky, no-" Mika tried to convince him again, but he cut her off with a kiss. She grabbed the front of his jacket, getting him to kiss her for just a moment longer before he finally pried himself away. His heart hurt so much he thought he might be sick, but he had to stay strong. He had to keep it together long enough to escape. That meant taking out whoever was in his apartment, grabbing his panic bag, and running.

"I love you." he said as he pulled away. He'd been sitting on the words for a long time now, but he was out of time. He may never see her again, and she needed to know. He had to tell her. She started to say something else, but he turned and left the apartment. He waited for a moment, a part of him hoping that she would follow him. But she listened to him, going behind the couch and curling into a ball, hoping he couldn't hear her as she sobbed into her arms. Bucky eyed the open door to his apartment, his instincts kicking in as he silently moved into it. One person, he could take. He recognized the back of the man's head, the shape of his uniform, the circle of the shield hanging from his arm. His brain buzzed as memories of a time long forgotten surged to the surface, but he couldn't afford them the attention right now. He had a priority, and that was getting this man and anyone following him away from this apartment, away from Mika.

"Understood." the man said, and Bucky recognized the voice, even if it wasn't directed at him. He must be communicating with someone outside of here, someone who would be giving him updates on the world outside. Did they already know he was here? Did they know he stopped at Mika's apartment first? The clock was ticking. He needed to go. The man finally turned then, realizing he wasn't alone in the apartment. Bucky kept himself very still, his instincts telling him he needed to prepare for a fight, but his mind knowing that if the fight came, it wouldn't be from this man. He held his journal, and Bucky wondered how much of it he'd read. The man stood to his full height, trying to put on a face of confidence. The manner was so familiar, it gave Bucky a headache. "Do you know me?" he asked, and the question was so ridiculous given the turn in events that it took Bucky a second to remember he needed to respond out loud.

"You're Steve." he said, though it felt weird now to have the man from his past life here during his current one. He could still feel the ghost of friendly affection when he looked at him, but it seemed different. Something wasn't right, though that was probably just the intense anxiety at the situation. This was taking too long, and Steve was only going to make it take longer. He couldn't know how much he knew. He had to play dumb, so he could exit as quickly as possible. Too much knowledge led to too many questions. "I read about you in a museum."

"I know you're nervous, and you have plenty of reason to be." Steve started after some message in through his communications device. It was too faint for Bucky to make out, but he knew the gist of it. He put his journal on the island, and Bucky wanted to laugh. Of course he was nervous, though Steve couldn't know that he wasn't nervous about himself. People were coming to kill him (which he was still used to), but his girl was next door with nothing but a couch and a wall between her and the danger. That was his plenty of reason. "But you're lying."

Oh, so maybe Steve still knew him a bit after all. Bucky hid the surprise from his face. They were taking too much goddamn time. "I wasn't in Vienna. I don't do that anymore." he said, figuring if he changed the subject and cut right to the chase, that they would stop this awkward song and dance and let him escape. Now was not a time for the pleasantries he'd learned and grown accustomed to over the past two years. His heart rate was raising with every second that passed, every second bringing the danger towards Mika.

"Well the people who think you did are coming here now." Steve said sharply, as if he were trying to convince Bucky of something. Bucky couldn't care less about what Steve wanted right now, he only cared about the people coming. They would have weapons, guns, things that would hurt the beautiful girl next door if he didn't leave. "And they're not planning on taking you alive."

That was a given. He'd done too much in his past to warrant a peaceful arrest. "That's smart. Good strategy." he deadpanned, not at all surprised at the warning. He could hear people on the lower floors of the apartment building, systematically working their way up. The concrete of his ceiling cracked as people walked across it. Very well...if he was going to die, he was going to make sure he was as far away from here as possible, so that Mika wouldn't have to see it.

"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck." Steve said. His name sounded different when he said it than when Mika said it. He wanted to laugh at the statement, but all he did was sigh, pulling the glove from his metal hand. If they wanted the Winter Soldier, they would get him.

"It always ends in a fight." he said. Stupid of him to think he could ever escape his past, escape his life. He pushed away all his memories of happiness with Mika, instead focusing on his training and his instincts. If he somehow survived, it would be because of that. Keeping Mika safe would be his priority, but he couldn't linger on it, couldn't let it distract him. Steve glanced nervously at the window, receiving another message from whoever was helping him on the outside. Likely a warning, a countdown. It was now or never.

"You pulled me from the river. Why?" Steve asked, as if that were important right now, as if that made a difference. What was Bucky supposed to say? That he'd been caught in the limbo between himself and the Soldier, and all he could recognize was Steve? That the memory of that day was so hazy that it felt like a dream? That he was so confused by everything going on that all he could think about was running, and yet he still couldn't bear to leave him in the water?

"I don't know." he said. Any other explanation would take too long. He could hear the footsteps outside his door, meaning they were also outside Mika's door. Escape was priority number one right now, leading them as far away from here as possible. If that ended in his death, so be it. As long as she was safe.

"Yes you do." Steve said, his voice sure. Another time, Bucky would have rolled his eyes. He did know. But they would have to discuss that another day, as their conversation was interrupted by a smoke bomb breaking through his window. Steve immediately hit it away with his shield, but another one came through a second later, this one a flash grenade, and well beyond his reach. It landed in front of Bucky, and with no hesitation he kicked it at the other man, Steve slamming his shield over it to negate its explosion. He looked vaguely annoyed, but Bucky couldn't be worried about it right now. All his focus needed to be on getting away. He picked up his mattress, blocking the next flash grenade that came through the window. A battering ram hit his door, but didn't bust it open all the way. How that flimsy door managed to hold he would never know, but regardless, he turned and threw his little table into the entryway, blockading their advancement.

Two men swung into his apartment, one through each window. He immediately swung at the man nearest to him, his metal arm wrapped around his own torso to protect his vital organs from the inevitable bullets that would soon be heading his way. The second man was standing on his rug; how convenient. He barely registered the gunshots as he pulled it from underneath his feet, sending him careening onto his back. The first man had recovered from the punch, but was still attached to his zip line. That was unfortunate, as Bucky was able to use the extra buoyancy to throw him across the apartment and into the opposite wall. He cursed himself; that was the wall that bordered Mika's apartment, and he was lucky the man hadn't gone through it.

A third man punched through his balcony door, engaging with Steve. He kicked him hard in the chest, sending him into the concrete wall and knocking him out cold. Bucky did the calculations in his head; he had just enough time now to escape. This was good, he'd avoided most of the gunfire and was able to keep them away from the apartment next door. He took a step towards the balcony, towards freedom, but was stopped by Steve's hand on his arm.

"Buck, stop! You're gonna kill someone." he exclaimed. Did he think he was going after the ones chasing him? Hell no. He wasn't looking for a fight, he needed to get away, and as much as part of him wanted to reclaim his friendship with Steve, it was not a priority. He grabbed Steve roughly, using his weight against him and slamming him into the floor. He pulled back his metal arm, sending it into the floor right next to his head. There was no time to gently pry up the laminate now.

"I'm not gonna kill anyone." he murmured, grabbing his backpack from the space beneath the floor and pulling it out. He couldn't blame Steve for thinking that, considering his occupation for the past seven decades, though he thought the changes in him would be relatively evident. But he would ruminate on that later. He stood up, and for a second Steve looked frightened that he was going to hurt him. Instead, he just chucked the backpack from the open window, hearing it as it hit the roof of the shorter building across the street. He would need the advantage of altitude for this escape.

Another soldier climbed through the window, opening fire on him. Bucky covered his face with the metal arm, letting the bullets ricochet uselessly off of it. Steve grabbed him, pulling him behind the protection of the shield. But the shield was big, and Steve's grip tight. Both were more of a hinderance right now, so Bucky felt no shame in pushing away his hand. Another soldier appeared in the window, aiming his gun at them. Bucky picked up Steve this time, throwing the other man shield first at the intruder. That one he felt a little bad about.

The other soldier's bullets were easily thwarted by his metal hand, and his tactical helmet did nothing to protect him from a massive concussion as Bucky slammed his head through the countertop. The man cried out in pain, but he barely heard it. He was busy with the man whose head poked through the barely open door, the wimpy table bending under the strength of the soldiers outside. He picked up one of the cinder blocks stacked in the corner, slinging it through the crack in the door and hitting the man straight in the face. Three shotgun shots rang from the hallway as they punched out the hinges of his door. Those shots were way too close to Mika, and if any stray bullets found their way too her, then he would easily and gladly break the promise he made to Steve moments before.

The soldiers outside hesitated, which was their biggest mistake. He kicked the door out, taking a few of them down in the process. Why would they line up like that? Idiots. He stepped out into the hallway, acutely aware of how close Mika's door was and exactly how close these soldiers were to her.

Lead them away. That was his only thought. Get them away from Mika.

He flipped the first one, slamming him into the ground hard enough to knock the wind from him and paralyze him momentarily with the shock. The skylight broke as another soldier lined in, machine gun trained on him and bullets firing wildly. Stupid. Irresponsible. If even one of those bullets made it into the apartment next door…

The shots were easily blocked, and the man was dumb enough to be within arm's reach. Bucky grabbed him by the gun, sending him flying into the wall. Hopefully that would be enough to knock him unconscious. He grabbed the battering ram with his metal arm, slamming it first into a soldier in front of him and then into one on the stairs. He eyed the stairwell, counting the soldiers as they lined up. They had the advantage of numbers, but he had the advantage of strength, tactical knowledge, and the courage of a man trying to protect his girl. And he would win every time, or die trying.

The unconscious man on the rope made an easy swing to get to the other side, Bucky's own body hitting one of the soldiers'. He grabbed the next one, sending a leg out to kick the one behind him down the stairs. The one in his arms he threw down the flight, aiming to get him away from the door at the top. No matter what, he had to keep pushing them down, keep pushing them away. They could not reach the top floor.

Punch, punch, parry, kick. He took down one, two, three more soldiers this way. He heard someone land behind him, but the footsteps were familiar. Nice of you to join me. That's what he would have said to Steve another time, if there weren't so much at stake. Right now, all he cared about was that Steve was taking down the soldiers behind him that were trying to get up. That was helpful, though unnecessary. And what was extra unnecessary was him catching one of the men that he threw over the railing, stopping his decent roughly.

"Come on, man." Steve said gruffly, and Bucky didn't bother explaining that given his trajectory he would have landed on the floor two stories down and likely survived. Instead, his answer was simply driving his elbow into the face of the man behind him. That guy was now for sure unconscious.

This was taking too long. He needed to get further down the staircase, and he needed to get there fast. He used the strength of his left arm to pull away the railing, his body weight enough to bend it as he swung a couple floors down. His feet slammed into the chest of another man, their combined momentum enough to break through the door of the empty apartment four floors down. The quick descent would also get the soldiers now above him to change their direction. Down the stairs. Away from the top floor. Away from Mika.

Punch, punch, throw, and another soldier was incapacitated. God, they kept coming like fucking ants or flies or whatever. His panic was in his throat now; the longer he stayed in the building, the higher the likelihood that Mika would be found and injured. He looked up as Steve threw his shield into the wall, knocking out a couple guys that were trying to get up. He couldn't decipher the expression on his face, but he knew he wasn't happy. Oh well. Apparently no one got to be happy today.

Without a second thought, Bucky lept over the railing, counting the floors as they passed before grabbing the appropriate railing with his left hand. He let out a cry of pain as the prosthetic barely held on to his chest, but he would deal with that later. Pain was fine. Pain meant he was alive. He climbed over the bannister, the hallway now clear of soldiers. He could hear them as they started running down the stairs towards him, but they were too late. He'd made his plan, and now he could execute it.

With purposeful steps, he walked towards the empty apartment on the street side, paying no mind to the door to the apartment or the balcony. One big leap, and he was soaring across to the other building. It was a little higher than he anticipated, pain shooting through his legs as he landed as softly as he could before rolling through it. His momentum kept him rolling, further than he intended, but just far enough to get him to his backpack. He used the force to roll to his feet, picking up the bag and breaking into a run. Though he was out of the building, he wasn't safe yet.

But at least Mika was.

There we go, lads! We're officially in Civil War! My heart was pounding the whole time I was writing this, so hopefully the action came across okay!

Thank you all so? Much? For the reviews? I literally can't say enough how much I love hearing y'all's thoughts on things. Please let me know how this one was!

Also, little Mika/Bucky one shots have been posted! And I would like to formally apologize to anyone who follows me, I had no idea it would email you for every chapter. I thought they would just email that there was a new story. So I'm so so so sorry about clogging up your inboxes.

Please tell me what you thought of this chapter!

-XM