"We're bringing you live updates on the explosion at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in New York tonight. The death toll has climbed up to seventy people so far. Dozens are still missing, with over a hundred injured, and currently being moved to St. Matthews and Metropolitan District Hospital. The cause of the explosion that shook the city, has not yet been officially revealed; but there are widespread speculations over the resurgence of HYDRA and many sources on-site have claimed that the explosion was an attack on the recently-appointed Assistant Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. – Sam Wilson. Sam has since then been seen rescuing the victims of the explosion. It has also been reported that James Barnes – previously known as HYDRA's 'Winter Solider' – was also seen at the headquarters when the explosion occurred. His involvement is unclear so far. Authorities are expected to give a media briefing as soon as possible. Furthermore, citizens are authorized to stay home and stay off the roads to avoid traffic congestion. Stay with us, on Radio 47 News,"
"Just drop me off here,"
"Are you sure? We're ten blocks away,"
"Yes, thanks,"
Clad in a long brown coat, a light blue college sweatshirt and sweatpants, Jackie exited her taxi and paved through the traffic and the luminous, bustling roads. Commotion and crowds followed her as she determinedly made her way through the city. She had never imagined spending her Sunday night like this and she had to be at work in just 7 hours. It would be her first, full workweek since she lost her mother. Instead of preparing for it, here she was out on the road in the middle of the night – against all precautions.
Car honks, traffic, and yelling drivers were a constant on every street Jackie turned onto. In the middle of the road stood a bus full of families and sleepy children, clad in Halloween costumes, and she doubted if the bus had even moved an inch in a long while. The fact that it was Halloween tonight, kept slipping from Jackie's mind as did most dates this past week. but luckily, she always had candy on hand, when a group of children came knocking at her door earlier that night.
The bitter taste of ash and chalk, made its way through Jackie's nostrils, mixed with the smell of fried foods. It was almost enough to make her gag. High above the skyscrapers, Jackie saw a trail of smoke make its way into the bright night sky. She quickened her pace.
After thirty minutes of walking, Jackie reached the hospital and immediately regretted her decision to come. The entrance was jampacked with emergency vehicles, police cars, groups of people trying to get in, and media vans. Red and blue lights reflected off the glass windows of the building. It was pure chaos.
After enduring many shoves and pushes, Jackie managed to reach the guarded hospital door.
"I'm looking for James Barnes!"
The guard noticed her yell and his stoic expression broke into a condescending grin. "Yeah, sure sweetheart. He's just on his way out to see you,"
Jackie huffed, shooting the guard a dark glare, and slipped away. As rude as that was, she had to admit – her plan was worthless.
What had transpired for her to catch a cab and attempt to find him in the first place: she couldn't say.
Perhaps the days off from work had finally gotten to her. Or maybe it was her empty apartment and all the nights she spent crying into a very fidgety-Mephisto. Maybe this was finally her breaking point.
Why did she think she could claim to know Bucky and actually find him? For all she knew, he could be in police custody (which wouldn't be very shocking), or perhaps have disappeared, or even – dare-she-consider – dead.
The inflow of injured and the deafening clamour of the crowd, made Jackie feel sick to the stomach. She was anxiously reminded of her hospital visits to her mother, and they seemed to have occurred lifetimes ago. The stark smell of antiseptic and rubber gloves, was enough to almost make her retch, and so she made her way through the enormous parking lot and to the dark, empty block behind.
The whole ordeal was a big mistake.
Jackie didn't even know Bucky enough to self-assign herself as his emergency contact. Just because he hadn't answered her calls and texts didn't mean he was dead, and at the end of the day – Jackie had been rash to show up at the nearest hospital with no way or reasoning, to get inside. She had no reason to believe he would be here.
Jackie silently cursed herself as she reached the dead end of the block. How was she going to get back home?
There was a fence at the end of the it, so she couldn't cross through to the road behind the headquarters. After glancing around at the empty space, she caught sight of the roadblocks and realised it had been cordoned off, which made sense as to why it was completely empty and quiet. She was still a few hundred feet away from the explosion site.
From behind the fence, Jackie gazed in horror at the tremendous magnitude of the explosion.
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters had been constructed after the first snap, and the grand opening ceremony had taken place when the rest of the population had reappeared. It was far larger than Jackie had first noticed when she passed through the area, a couple of times in the past.
The building – or what remained of it – was surrounded by a hundred feet of open land and a concrete boundary wall, which had crumbled like pastry now. The headquarters had been seven storeys high and extended horizontally, covering dozens of acres of land. Now, only a couple of storeys were left standing, and that too – half-collapsed.
"You don't get to say that!"
Jackie was jolted out of her horror-struck daze, by a far-off voice that seemed strangely familiar.
"I warned you – no, I BEGGED you to stay out of it and now look where we are!"
It was Sam Wilson. His voiced came from a far-off distance –blaring and full of fury. Jackie grabbed the fence and craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him on the road ahead of her. She finally saw a silhouette standing under the dim streetlight far ahead.
There were two figures.
"You're gonna blame this on me, when I've been the one trying to tell you all of this was brewing right under your nose, this entire time?"
Was that Bucky? The voice was too strained and grating for Jackie to guess. She had never heard either of them yelling like this.
"What part of 'I'm handling it', could you not grasp, Bucky? Why couldn't you just trust me to do my job? You really think you're the only person in the whole world who isn't blind? Who can read people, because of your trust issues with HYDRA?"
"My 'trust issues with HYDRA' are the reason you're alive right now, Wilson,"
The two men were drawing nearer to the streetlight near Jackie's alley. Sam was limping and Jackie could make out the angle of his right foot was disturbingly crooked. He wore black pants and a white dress shirt that was torn and stained with dirt and blood. A crimson streak ran from Sam's temple, down to his neck, and he held his left arm cautiously against his chest, as if it was injured. Jackie's heartbeat sped up, a chill running down her spine, as Sam laughed sarcastically.
"YOU'RE the reason I'm alive? Bucky, if you hadn't shown up – none of this would have happened!"
"You were held hostage by HYDRA-"
"They had demands, which I was going to negotiate and TALK through, until you just had to show up with your metal arm blazing in all directions,"
They were finally close enough for Jackie to catch their expressions under the warm light, but still far enough for Jackie to remain perfectly concealed.
While Sam looked pained, Bucky appeared a corpse. His black clothes were covered in grey ash, as was his hair which was streaked in white. His skin appeared paler than usual and there were bullet holes in his jacket. Along with an actual bullet wound in his chest. Jackie had to look away for a moment, to calm her breathing.
Both men stared each other down with a menacing gaze. Sam's countenance was dark, and his nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth – whether in physical anguish, or in rage – it was hard to tell.
Jackie knelt down into the shadow, to avoid being seen.
Bucky let out a manic laugh, his blue eyes piercing with ravenous indignation. "And you remember who gave me that metal arm -"
"Oh for fuck's sake, Bucky. You can't keep bringing your past into everything every-single-time! When are you gonna grow up and realise you can't keep running on revenge? Punching your way out of every situation like it's just black-and-white. Back there, I had it under control until you sabotaged the whole thing with your fists and your blind-hatred for HYDRA. You couldn't trust me ONCE! If you just LIVED in this world instead of fighting it, you'd see it doesn't just exist on gut feelings,"
"Oh, great speech Sam, maybe save that for the TV interviews you're gonna get after this," Bucky spat.
Sam shook his head with a disbelieving smile as he looked upwards to the sky, exasperated and in search of relief from the man ahead of him. Bucky continued on tormenting.
"You can blame me all you want for this mess, blame me for the deaths and the destruction – I don't CARE. You want me to take the blame for this attack, sure I'll take it. You know why? Because unlike you, I'm not addicted to playing a figurehead for the rest of life – following every command mindlessly by some corporate overlords – who are NO different from HYDRA -"
Sam interjected but Bucky cut him off by only lashing out more boisterously. Jackie's stomach was twisting uncomfortably, and she didn't want to witness the scene anymore, but she couldn't turn away. What if she made a sound? She so desperately wanted to peel herself away from the horrifying scene unfolding ahead of her.
"You're not ANYTHING close to Steve. You thought you could run S.H.I.E.L.D. and look what happened! You can't let go of your superficial power and asskissing-"
"Watch it Bucky-"
"Or what Sam? You can't do anything without your orders from HYDRA -"
Sam's voice boomed across the road as he straightened up. "Jesus! I knew you were deranged but I had no idea you're really that far gone! You're literally clinging onto your paranoid narrative, just so you can fuel your hero-complex-"
"Oh fuck off with your psychological analysis-"
"No Bucky, you need a fucking, psychological assessment! I am sick to death of tiptoeing around you like you're some traumatised victim when in reality – you're the fucking problem, man. Not the Winter Soldier– but YOU,"
Bucky remained silent, but Jackie saw his face fuming with white rage. His gaze was fixed on Sam, like a predator and Jackie couldn't believe she saw him just last week, when he came to pay his respects. Now, he stood with his fists clenched and his jaw gritted with merciless force. Jackie was fearful their verbal altercation would soon turn physical.
Sam's voice was lower now – but instead of coming across less threatening, it was only all the more grating and severe. As if it was intended to glide over Bucky like sandpaper. It gave Jackie goosebumps all over her arms.
"Your past is no longer an excuse. You've had so many chances and you've let it corrupt you into a paranoid, narcissistic, stubborn, son of a bitch. I have tried SO hard to help you but in the end, you're ALWAYS gonna blame someone for your losses, like you're the only person with a bullshit detector, who is so far above the rest – just because you were HYDRA's pet project. Well guess what, man? You're not that fucking special, and neither is your past. You're just a scared little kid who's too scared to admit he's lost,"
"And you just killed a hundred people because you couldn't accept that you got this job from a bunch of Nazis. Their blood is on YOUR hands, Wilson,"
Bucky's words were vile and cruel and the gleam in his eyes showed that he knew it. In the distance, Jackie felt her stomach churn with nausea and discomfort. Her head felt light, and she wished she could sink into the ground forevermore. If she hadn't left her house tonight, she would've been fast asleep by now. She really wished she was asleep by now.
Sam's posture remained upright and stoic, and the only sound to be heard was the rhythmic drops of blood that fell onto the ground, from his left arm. His face was unreadable to Jackie – there was no spite or pain to be seen on it. He looked at Bucky as if he was examining at an unintelligible piece of work – or a document in a foreign language.
Sam's lips twitched ever so slightly but his mouth remained firmly clasped shut, with his head held high. Jackie felt a rush of fear, from whatever was coming next.
"Have a good night Barnes,"
Sam turned on his heel, and slowly made his way to the roadblock at the nearest end of the road. Bucky didn't move an inch. His gaze mechanically fixed on Sam until he had vanished from view. Jackie's breaths still came out in sharp pants, and she tried to calm herself. If Bucky's senses were heightened, she couldn't be sure if she was concealed from his vision and earshot, after all. That was not the best incentive to relax her breathing. She felt her leg twitch under her body weight, and Jackie hoped to God that it hadn't fallen asleep.
Finally, Bucky moved. He too, turned on his heel and uneasily walked towards the opposite end of the road. His countenance was completely obscured in the shadows.
When he was gone, Jackie finally sighed for the first time in what felt like years. She shifted her weight from over her legs and a spasm of pain shot through her calves. At least her legs hadn't fallen asleep. With a shocking amount of effort, Jackie stood up and huffed.
Bizarrely, no thoughts came to mind as she casually strolled back through the empty building blocks and to the hospital entrance. She wanted to take a cab, but it felt wrong considering how high their demand was tonight, so she walked through the streets, tightly wrapping her coat to keep out the cold. Sam and Bucky's malicious words whirled through her brain, but Jackie found herself overtaken with sleep and she strolled through the city like a ghost, paying no heed to the malignant conversation she had just witnessed.
After an hour of walking, Jackie finally caught a bus and by the time she reached her apartment, her hands and feet were completely numb from the cold. She really should have gotten used to the New York winters, by now. Mephisto merely shot Jackie a disgruntled look and went back to sleep.
Sliding off her boots, Jackie slid into bed with her large coat still on. She could still salvage about three hours of sleep before work.
The last thing Jackie recalled before dozing off, was reminding herself to go meet Sam.
It had been a week since the tragic attack at S.H.I.E.L.D. The death toll had climbed to 120 people and on a warm, November evening, a young woman in a white, 'Letters to Cleo' t-shirt and pale pink suit, climbed the stairs of the community council building.
In the back veranda, there was a charity event being held with hundreds of people in attendance to raise money and support for the victims of the attack, and their families. Banners calling for justice, hung from the pillars, and vast numbers of tables were laid out with food and charity goods for sale. Clothes, furniture, sports equipment and everything in between.
Jackie scanned the crowd for a familiar face.
There was none.
After registering her name and donation, Jackie curiously stirred through the throngs of volunteers and attendees, keeping on the side-lines and avoiding the rush. After fifteen minutes of searching, she cautiously snuck through the backdoor and into the kitchen.
The makeshift kitchen was smoky and jampacked with volunteers. Beef burgers and shawarmas sizzled on stoves. Salad pots – filled to the brim – were being emptied into individual-sized containers, and large crates filled with drinks, rolled out one by one – almost going over Jackie's foot. A racket of banter, cooking and steel dishes – melted the huge room into a boiling pot of clamour.
Inconspicuous, she hurried along the metal aisles of stoves and sinks, until she finally caught sight of who she was looking for.
Sam Wilson.
Exhausted and sweating from the heat of the stoves, he wore a stained, yellow apron and a fitted grey sweatshirt and black pants. He wiped the sweat off his brow as he flipped multiple, sizzling beef patties.
Jackie's heart dropped to her stomach. There was such a stark contrast between how Sam appeared now, with how she saw him last, from her hiding spot. She was glad to note that the gash on his temple was now merely a scar, and he used his left arm nonchalantly as if it was brand new. Seeing him cooking with such dedicated concentration, calmed Jackie's nerves and she approached closer.
"Hey Sam,"
Sam was startled to see Jackie, but he broke out into a beaming grin. It sent a wave of calm through Jackie to see it. However, despite his glowing smile, he still looked strained.
"Jackie! What are you doing here? Wait, gimme a second,"
Sam wiped his hands on a dish towel and called out to someone that he was taking a break, out in the back. He gestured Jackie to follow along, and she did – eager to escape the incessant rush and steam of the kitchen. He didn't lead her outside, but instead deeper into the kitchen until they walked through a steel door, into a cool, empty hallway. There, Sam gave a resigned sigh as he cleared his headspace and turned back to Jackie.
"How've you been - " he paused suddenly and Jackie could almost see the gears turning in his head as he realised something. "I'm so sorry for your loss. I meant to call you; it completely left my mind…"
"No, Sam – it's okay, I understand," she was anxious to relieve him of the embarrassment, especially since hers was far more pressing, and she hadn't even had a chance to begin yet. The last thing she wanted was to bring up her dead mother as a conversation starter.
Sam's countenance bore solemnity and sincerity. He gazed at Jackie and could read by her wavering eye-contact and head bent low, that she wasn't prepared to accept his condolences. Perhaps because she was aware of Sam's candour, and it almost scared her. He genuinely meant his apology, and that was terrifying to Jackie.
"I remember you mentioning that you two were close… she was a single-mother, right?"
His question caught Jackie off-guard, and she froze. Astounded, she caught his eyes, and it took her a moment to gather her thoughts again. She had no memory to telling Sam about her mother, but nevertheless – he had remembered. It was a remarkably moving gesture that made Jackie's heart feel lighter.
"Uh – yeah, she was," she replied meekly.
"How have you been holding up?"
Sam's earnest and perceptive nature made it impossible to lie to him, but Jackie managed to mutter a soft "as fine as I can be," to gently steer the conversation away.
How could she tell him she regularly cried in her office bathroom, between giving therapy sessions herself? That she had a panic attack in the cab, on the way here? When Jackie glanced his way, she could tell Sam already knew. She felt oddly exposed.
Nevertheless, Sam picked up on her uneasiness over the topic.
"I'm not secretly a cook, by the way… in case you were suspicious," he nodded to the kitchen door. Jackie chuckled inadvertently, but it didn't come across as very authentic. "It's just the only way I can get actual work done, by avoiding the crowds and the attention,"
She nodded sympathetically, despite understanding nothing of the life of fame that Sam lived.
"Um, Sam I actually came to tell you something," Jackie cleared her throat. "It's absolutely none of my business and I understand if you don't want to talk about it. Or to me – ever again. I tried to forget what I saw and move on, but I think I owe it to you, to tell you that I saw your fight with Bucky, the night of the S.H.I.E.L.D. attack,"
Sam's countenance turned grave upon the mention of Bucky's name. His posture became rigid, but despite the furrowing of his brows – Jackie couldn't pick up on any anger from his side. She quickly continued before she lost her nerve.
"I had gone to find Bucky – which was stupid, and I saw you two. And I'm not here to mediate or pass my judgement on whatever dynamic you two have, but all I came to say is -"
Jackie pursed her lips tentatively as she gazed down at her converse and then back at Sam – with full conviction and determination.
"Bucky was wrong. I don't need to know the politics and the story behind the incident, to know that it wasn't your fault that all those people died. I mean it,"
Jackie paused briefly but Sam made no move to interject so she continued. "I'm sure you knew this already, and I know it's not my place to come in here and tell you that – but I wanted you to know, that – as someone who was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. And for that, I'm sorry about invading your privacy,"
Sam examined Jackie carefully and with a stern look. His lips gently curled upwards, but Jackie couldn't read his expression. It was, however, apparent that he could read her through and through. He averted his gaze before stating: "I'm sorry you saw that scene. It wasn't my best moment. In fact, probably the worst,"
Jackie remained quiet as Sam moved a few feet away and then turned towards her with arms on his hips.
"Thank you, Jackie. It means a lot to me, that would think that. And the fact that you came all the way to tell me so," Sam's voice was gentle and appreciative. Jackie caught his gaze and gave him a timid smile and nod back. It was more than enough for both of them.
Surprisingly, the silence between them felt oddly comforting.
"You know what I think?" Sam's voice was back on the same tone it normally was – louder and more assured. Full of vigour. There was a sparkle in his brown eyes as he studied Jackie with curiosity.
"What?" Jackie had no idea where this was going to go.
"I think you feel bad. You feel bad for being friends with Bucky,"
"What?"
"Oh, come on, I know he came to your mom's funeral. And trust me, he wouldn't have done that for just about anyone,"
Jackie gazed at Sam inquisitively and with a peculiar gleam in her eyes.
"What is this, middle school? Next, you're gonna tell me he has a picture of me in his locker," she retorted.
Sam laughed with his head back. It was heartfelt and soothing, as it rippled through the air. It was infectious too, and Jackie couldn't help but smile at him agreeably.
Sam shook his head thoughtfully.
"Look Jackie, whatever Bucky does – it's not on you. It doesn't reflect you. God knows what goes on in that mechanical brain of his; but that night we both said horrible things. And as much I appreciate your support, you aren't responsible for his shit. If he's a good person around you, then let that be enough. He's definitely not getting a friend out of me, but if he gets one out of you – then enjoy it for what it is. It's not a good idea to delve into his complicated aspects, believe me, Jackie."
Although Sam spoke with an honest integrity, Jackie couldn't help but feel she had waded too far into unchartered territory, with both Sam and Bucky.
She clearly didn't know Bucky as much as she had previously believed. Sam was right of course, that she shouldn't intervene into Bucky's personal matters, but perhaps she had felt responsible – not for Bucky – but as a witness, to stand up against a false claim. Jackie had felt concerned for Sam, even though she knew Bucky's words were not the only input Sam had in his life. The scene had left her shaky and powerless. She didn't want to solely sit by and watch as things crashed down around her.
Jackie couldn't watch more people get hurt.
She had seen her mother's health decline over the span of merely a year and watched helplessly as doctors fumbled over considerate words and feeble apologies. She had no interest in letting that happen again. For once, she wanted to stop something bad from happening. She wanted to make a difference and succeed.
However, Sam was right. Jackie couldn't take on correcting Bucky's wrongdoings, that could never be her responsibility. She knew that wholeheartedly. But perhaps coming here had less to do with Bucky, and more to do with her urge to express herself before it was too late. Before she could lose someone else too.
With her mother gone, she felt the need to reach out, more strongly than ever. Of course, Jackie conveyed her love to those she cared for, but now – it wasn't just love that she yearned to convey. Openly and boldly. It was everything that mattered.
"Do you feel responsible for it?"
Jackie was aware it was too intimate of a question to ask a friendly acquaintance. Sam's countenance was open but subdued. Although he didn't look burdened by the question, his lips pursed, and a crease formed on his forehead. He gazed out of the window.
"I was the Assistant Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. so of course I feel responsible. But S.H.I.E.L.D. receives dozens of fake threats every day, and I know Bucky loves to claim that he saw it coming, but no one did. Not on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s anniversary party – when security is at its maximum. He was only there to meet someone. Well, anyway… to a certain extent, I am responsible for the way the attack unfolded. I've gone over it a million times, every night. Thinking of all the ways I could've prevented the explosion from happening. But I can't change the past so there's no use beating myself up over it. Why else would I be hiding in a kitchen at a charity function?"
"Because you have a good heart. Something tells me you would be here even if you didn't work for S.H.I.E.L.D.,"
That drew a light chuckle from Sam.
"Well, I can assure you, I definitely wouldn't be sweating away inside. And for what it's worth, technically no one works for S.H.I.E.L.D. anymore. They're disbanding the whole organisation until it gets wiped clean – again. The news will be out soon I guess, but until then – keep it to yourself,"
Jackie gestured locking her lips, as she smiled coyly. "Learn something new every day."
Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think so far x