Summary: A year after the civil war, the Avengers are still divided with friendships broken and loyalties torn when they are sent to find a powerful young woman whose life has been destroyed by HYDRA. While Bucky seeks redemption, Martine seeks to get revenge on the people who murdered her grandmother. Co – Written with WalkingPotterGirl14. Bucky/OC, Wanda/OC, Clint/Natasha and Steve/Sharon. Rated M.
Divided We Fall
Chapter 7
Bucky sighed but grunted in agreement. They tried a corndog and he realized that it wasn't really dog meat. It was some kind of hot dog on a stick that everyone called a corndog.
He bit into it and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. Afterwards, he and Martine walked around for a while, before deciding to leave. They started heading back to where the bike was, and then drove to the apartment.
Once they got there, Martine started cooking something, and Bucky checked that no one had followed them. He saw Salem enter after going out and purred at him.
Bucky petted him for a minute, before looking at the two pandas and miniature black cheetah. She had a doll too. Why did this woman like freaking stuffed animals?
It was actually kinda cute.
They heard knocking on the door and opened it.
He wasn't surprised to see it was Tony.
"Barnes," Tony said flatly as he regarded the younger man. Bucky nodded at him stiffly as Martine came out, and that was when they both saw she was saying something in Cajun French.
"Friday, what is Witchy woman saying?" Tony asked the AI that resided in the base and in flats, as well as Stark Tower.
"She's singing, Mr Stark. It's a song about Shiloh."
"What the fuck was that?" She whispers, backing away at the sudden noise. "What the hell?"
"It's an AI. I didn't even know if you were using it or not but it's here. It can help you if you're ever in a jam," Tony states before seeing all of the stuffed animals. He casually strolls in. "Jesus. It looks like a BuildaBear threw up in here."
Bucky crosses his arms across his chest, glaring at Tony. But his words didn't seem to mean anything to Martine. She only chuckles and shrugs.
"Well, Natasha and Clint were bumping bellies, so I didn't feel like stopping that. She rearranged training for tomorrow, so we went to the carnival that's a few hours away."
"The carnival? What are you, five?"
"Six, actually."
She had just as much sass as him.
Tony shakes his head and sits down at her counter, watching her cook. "You making something at least good?"
"Well Bucky liked my dinner last night. I think I make good food. I am from New Orleans. You've only got that city shit. You don't have real flavours."
"I've been all over the world, kid."
"Doesn't matter. There's an Olive Garden in every country. You could have gone there instead of having real food."
Tony and herself laugh at her statement, and Bucky suddenly felt jealous. How come she never laughed around him like that? Was she afraid to laugh around him? He thought she hated Tony.
Well; not hated. But heavily disliked.
And then he slapped himself. Why the hell did he care? She could laugh with anyone. It wasn't his place to be jealous. He had only known her for a few days.
He growled under his breath and turned on the TV, listening to the news. He saw Christine Everhart, the news reporter for WHIH World News, appear on the screen, and felt his lip curl.
He hated that bitch. During the civil war she had tried to discredit Steve and anyone who was on his side, and had tried to ruin everyone's lives.
"Police have confirmed that they are investigating the murder of New Orleans resident Agatha Laveau as a hate crime gone wrong. Mrs. Laveau, who lived with her granddaughter, was violently stabbed to death on Tuesday night. It is believed that Mrs. Laveau was murdered due to her loyalty and admiration to Captain Rodgers and his team, who were fighting Tony Stark. Agatha is survived by her two grandchildren. We have Agatha's daughter-in-law, Carla Townsend. Carla what are your thoughts?" Christine asked smoothly, as they all saw her talking to a dark haired young woman.
Martine froze.
She had nearly forgotten about her grandmother...she had been having so much fun the past day.
"I think it's absolutely terrible," Carla states with a frown. "My husband surely isn't around now to see this, but at least I know that they're together somewhere else. I haven't seen her grandchildren at all though."
"What do you think happened to them?"
"No clue. I would have thought that they would be here. They loved their Grandmama, but I guessed they didn't want to be here to see her go. Selfish if you asked me."
Martine's hand gripped a glass hard. She hated this woman.
"Do you think that maybe they are working for the Avengers?"
"Completely, I do. They've caused enough damage to cities that I wouldn't be surprised if they were working for them. They cause damage wherever they go anyway."
Martine heard a sickening crack, and saw she had broken her glass in anger. That wasn't a Carla.
That woman was her mother.
"And those two were always acting out. They were bad kids. I wouldn't be surprised if she and her brother were off playing superhero instead of being here."
'Liar...you fucking two-faced bitch of a liar!' Martine screamed mentally, causing the windows to rattle a bit. She still felt enraged.
She wanted to storm into that news studio and tell the whole world that in reality, Carla was a manipulative, selfish bitch. And nothing but that. Carla. What a stupid fucking name. Carla, Monica.
Whatever her name was.
Martine felt like destroying something.
"We seem to be having problems broadcasting," Christine said, annoyed as she started having trouble with the camera. She could feel Adrian's rage through the telepathic bond that they shared. He was just as pissed.
"I'm gonna fucking kill her," Martine growled enraged, but she felt her eyes burn with tears as she thought of her grandmother. They were using her grandmother as a weapon against the Avengers.
She wasn't even buried yet, and Carla was trying to make money out of her mother-in-law. Martine was starting to get upset.
Bucky noticed that Martine's eyes were turning a dark shade of purple, and that outside the lights were flickering, while the apartment was shaking.
"Martine...look at me," he said quietly. She looked at him, almost painfully, while Tony moved closer, looking concerned.
Martine said nothing, but he could read her expression.
She was upset, betrayed, enraged and grieving for her grandmother, who wasn't even buried in the ground yet. That bitch on TV was trying to make Agatha seem like the villain.
'It's not true,' she said mentally to him. 'It's not. She's not...'
Bucky comes forward, resting his hands on her shoulders, and the she snapped, and glass shards from her cabinets flew everywhere. Out of habit, Bucky covers her with himself, before suddenly feeling something moving against him.
He looks down, and saw Martine clinging to his shirt.
She was crying.
And not just little tears. It was full on, hysterical sobbing, like someone had just been killed. Well, her grandmother was gone, and now she was being made to look evil.
Tony sighs and then comes forward, resting a hand on Bucky's back. The soldier glares, but Tony only raises his hands in defense. "Look, make sure she's feeling better tomorrow. I just came to see how you guys are doing." He looks at the TV. "I'll talk to her woman."
"You'll..."
"We'll see what we can do. Make sure she rests well. I know you can get her to bed." With that, Tony left with his drink, leaving them alone. Once the door was closed, Bucky looks down at Martine.
Jesus; she was hysterical.
Even before he had been turned into the Winter Soldier; he was never good with crying girls. But right now it looked like all she needed was to just be held. And if he had to do that, he would.
If it could prevent more glass flying everywhere, he'd try.
"It's alright," he soothes quietly, using a gentle voice he didn't even know he had. "It's okay. It's all gonna be okay."
She shakes her head. "Bucky..."
"I know. But it'll be good. Trust me, it will. Somehow."
Martine didn't say anything to that. She nodded and held onto him tightly, just wanting to feel comforted for a while, and Bucky surprised her by holding her close.
He made her feel safe.
"Bucky...can I...can I call you James or Jamie?" she asked quietly. It wasn't that she didn't like Bucky. She just knew at one point she would say his real name, but she didn't know if it was okay.
Bucky was silent for a minute before nodding.
He didn't mind Martine calling him by his real name, or Jamie. His younger sister Rebecca used to call him that.
"Can I call you Marty for short?" Bucky asked finally. Martine laughed shakily and nodded.
"Deal."
He helped her up, and watched as she gathered up all the glass by using her telekinesis powers. She put it all in the trash, and they headed into her bedroom.
Even though Martine had only been staying recently, she'd been making the apartment like hers. It had a French Quarter vibe to it. Salem was fast asleep on the end of the bed, his tail swishing lightly as he slept.
"Sorry for freaking out like that...I just got upset," Martine apologized to him. She saw he had some cuts and went to the bathroom where she found a first-aid kit.
"It's fine," he says quietly, looking up at her when she comes back. "That's like how it is with triggers sometimes. Just gotta let it pass." She sighs and then nods at his shirt.
He easily takes it off, and she had to force herself not to look at his body. Jesus fucking Christ, was he fit. His body looked like it was carved from the gods.
"I know...but I hate losing my shit." She looks at him quietly before attending to his cuts. Nothing stung. He was used to pain. "Especially in front of you. You probably think I'm weak for all of this happening."
Bucky looks at her quietly before tilting her chin up, causing her to look at him. "I don't think you're weak. Annoying, a bit." She snorts, but there was a smile on her cheeks. "But you're not weak. You've been through hell. You saw someone you love die. You needed to let out the anger."
She nods before going back to his cuts. Even then though, it still didn't excuse her behaviour. Martine needed to keep herself in check. Somehow.
It was silent between the two for a bit, her attending to the cuts he had due to the glass. After a bit, he turns on the TV, wanting to watch something. His brow furrows when he sees a family.
"Who're the Kardashians?"
Martine laughs. "A brainless family. Why?"
"On TV." She scoffs.
"Jesus, don't watch that. Watch something good," she chuckles. "That show will kill brain cells with the amount of crap on it."
"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," Bucky said dryly. He flicked through the channels until he stopped on a film called 'The Day After Tomorrow,' and they watched it.
Martine left to finish cooking dinner and Bucky couldn't help but lick his lips. She came back in with two plates of steaming hot food, and placed it down on the large table that was in the corner of the bedroom. She smiled.
"This smells good," Bucky said quietly. He tasted some, and saw some shrimp in the food.
"It's shrimp jambalaya with bell peppers and rice. Grandmama and Jeannette taught me and Adrian, along with Beatrice, how to cook," Martine told him softly as they tucked into their meal.
"It's good," Bucky said truthfully as he ate more of the food.
She could see. He was practically scarfing it down his throat.
"Slow down, Bucky," she chuckles. He looks up and shrugs, looking back down at the food. "Is it that good?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "I haven't had this good of food in a while except at restaurants and crap. You make good stuff." He shakes his head and looks at her. "I don't know how a guy hasn't snatched you up if you can cook like this."
"Case and point is in the trash."
"The powers would just have to be accepted," he states. "Not every girl can cook like this. Shit...I remember something."
A sudden look comes over his face, and she made sure to keep her eyes open just in case something got triggered. "What is it?"
"There was this girl...name was Mary," he chuckles quietly, looking down at the food. "Was before the war, and she was trying so dam hard to get to me. Started cooking me meals. And they tasted horrible. I feel bad for the man who had to marry her."
She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure she was a nice woman."
"But guys love food. Isn't that a phrase? 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach?'"
"I didn't even know you knew that phrase."
"It's true, right?"
She shrugs. "For some people, yes. My cooking just adds onto it." She smiles a bit, looking at him. "I loved to cook back down there. People would always want to come over and try my food."
"Then why didn't you open up a bar or a restaurant then?" Bucky asked curiously, as he looked at the young blonde haired woman. She sighed then, heavily.
"I didn't want to do it. I have master degrees in Anthropology and in Mythology, but...I wanted to do something else, but I never found it, so I ended up working in a bar," Martine said dryly as she looked at him.
His metal arm met his left shoulder, but she could see the faded scars from where the skin tissue hadn't been able to heal properly. She looked at him, almost asking for permission, before touching the skin gently.
Bucky shuddered under her touch for a moment. Then she spoke up.
"I liked painting, drawing, sculpturing, and doing pottery...but...well, something happened, and I graduated early," Martine revealed, her hand still on his shoulder.
Bucky looked at her quietly.
"What happened?"
Martine looked away, but not before he saw a look of shame, humiliation and pain in her eyes.
"I trusted the wrong people. Everyone warned me not to trust them, but I did, and ended up...being in a bad place for a while," she said darkly.
Martine swallowed and then looked back at his arm.
"That's why I like reading books and painting...keeps my mind occupied and it stops me having these flashes...these visions of things," she said bitterly.
His brow furrows at her bitter tone before he feels her move her hand down his metal arm, all the way to his fingers. She looks at them quietly.
"Would you ever wanna talk about it?" he asks her quietly.
She was silent before shaking her head. "I don't know. I don't like reliving those things, you know?"
She looks around and sighs, before looking back at his arm.
"Maybe someday...or now. I don't know. It's like you and what happened." She brings her other hand up and brushes away his hair from his eyes, looking at him quietly. "You don't wanna keep reliving that stuff."
Jesus, her hands were soft.
"I guess," he says quietly. She smiles a bit.
"If you wanna talk about it...I guess I can."
"No." He looks down at her hand and then grabs it as gently as he could with his metal one. Last thing he wanted was to hurt her again. He could still see the bruises on her wrist. "I don't want to put you through that. I won't ask unless you tell me."
She smiles and then squeezes his hand. "Thanks, Bucky."
"James...you can call me James or Jamie, remember," Bucky said softly as he looked at her, and she smiled at him. She had a beautiful smile...when she did smile.
She touched his stubbly cheek gently before checking on his cuts, noticing that they were healing. He gave her a faint smile.
She didn't know why but she knew right then, when he had told her that she could call him James or Jamie, he was trusting her.
And she wouldn't betray that trust.
Enjoy and Happy Christmas everyone, I hope you all have a good holiday. :)