Hey Everyone! Thanks for sticking with the story and sorry for the late update. I made sure to make this chapter a little longer than usual to make up for it.
In this one we get to see the aftermath of the accident of the last chapter. Enjoy!
"Miss, you need to leave."
"No."
"You've been here for three hours. The visiting hours ended two hours ago."
"Yeah but you see, I need to be here when she wakes up. She's my best friend."
"I know. You told me at least eight times so far."
"And for some reason you still keep insisting I leave."
Brooke groans and opens her eyes, a rather tiresome activity. "Mo?" She says coughing a little as words scratch her throat.
"Brooke!" Monna is by her side in the next moment. Brooke can see her brown eyes that seem to be full of worry and relief at the same time. "Brooke, you're here, you're safe. I— I can't believe, I wanted to go and shout at Barnes but they wouldn't let me in and—"
"Miss, please, you need to give Miss Marlow some peace."
The nurse grabs Monna's arm in a rather determined way and pulls her away from the bed.
"I'll call the doctor. Stay put, Miss Marlow," she says before heading out of the room with Monna still in her grab.
"Please, can I talk to my friend for a moment?" Brooke asks. Her voice is low and feels rusty.
The nurse rolls her eyes but lets Monna go.
"What happened?" Brooke asks when Monna steps back to her.
"God, Brooke. I talked to Sam. He was here too. You've stirred up life here quite good, you know?" She chirps. "Which is something because it is the Avengers Tower."
Brooke groans and ignores the warm feeling in her stomach hearing Wilson came to see her. "Tell me what happened."
"I think your grandfather has issues," Monna says as she sits on the chair next to the bed and starts recapping the story.
Steve sits on the couch with a book on his lap. It's the Catcher in the Rye, a classic, as he was told, and he loves it. But right now it is not enough to distract him. He listens to Sam who scrolls through Netflix while talking.
"I am telling you, he just grabbed my neck. And the weirdest part is that he denied it all. Look at this, mate." Sam hooks his index finger in the collar of his shirt and pulls to reveal a bruise on his neck.
Steve curses softly.
Sam goes on, ignoring it. "Look, I know you are happy he's back with us, we are all so fucking happy. We are also happy that Tony had to stop with the virgin-Cap jokes. Anyway. He's dangerous. That arm has a brain of its own and Barnes refuses to even acknowledge it."
Steve sighs. "I understand, Sam. What do you want me to say? I don't like it either."
"I want to hear you say that you will do something about it, Steve."
"But I said that already."
"When?"
Steve stares at Sam. "Beg your pardon?"
"When did you say that?"
"Like, weeks ago? All the time you bring this up?"
"No. You never said that. You said Sam, we gotta be patient, you said it has to be tough for him, you said normal life will help him break through it, you said mate, I love him, let him be," Sam replies. "You never said you would do something about it."
Steve opens his mouth to retort when they hear FRIDAY's beep.
"Captain, your presence might be required at the gym."
"And why is that, FRI?" Steve asks. Tony teases him about how he has gotten friendly with the AI over the last months. Nicknames, huh? So cute, Rogers.
"Mr Barnes is training with Miss Marlow."
Steve leaps to his feet and Sam does the same, the book and the remote control falling on the floor.
"How is it going?"
"Her life signals are getting weaker, sir."
Steve turns and stares at Sam in horror. Sam mirrors his expression.
The elevator has to go down to the 32nd floor where the gym is, but it has an emergency setting, so they get there quite fast.
Seeing the scene in front of him Steve has to admit he didn't overreact the situation. Bucky holds Brooke down and her leg jerks, both her hands on his metal arm that grabs her neck too tight, Steve can see it even from here.
"Bucky!" He calls as they run towards them. He jumps on his boyfriend's back, grasps the arm and pulls, while Sam tries to reach under the fingers to release the grip. "Let her go, you're hurting her," Steve says wondering if it is Bucky or the Soldier he talks to. "Bucky!"
In the moment the arm gives way, Sam pushes it away and scoops the unconscious Brooke up, getting her away from her grandfather, while Steve tackles him to the ground and keeps him in place.
Fortunately the man doesn't put up a fight. Steve does not release him as he calls for FRIDAY and asks for medics and a stretcher for Brooke (to which FRIDAY responds in a rather offended tone that she arranged that already) while Sam starts shaking her shoulders.
"Brooke? Brooke? Brooke, you need to breathe. Brooke!"
"Wow," Brooke gasps touching her neck and wincing at the feel of the sore skin. "Where is he now?"
"Who? Wilson had to leave. Still, rather nice of a one night stand if you ask me—"
"Barnes, Mo. Where is he now? Is he hurt?"
"No. A little beat up, that's all," she hears another voice.
Tony Stark wears a Black Sabbath t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. He seems delighted by the events, Brooke muses. She wonders why. Maybe because this time the troublemaker is not him.
"Mr Stark," Monna greets him, clearly making an effort to hide her excitement seeing her boss/secret crush here.
Tony doesn't notice it as he frowns. "Miss Hudnall, already starting the project? Don't you think we should check Barnes first?"
"She's my friend, Tony. For some odd reason she came to see me, not to write a report on me."
Tony looks at Brooke with a smirk. "Odd indeed."
"And why are you here? Am I fired?"
"Fired? For what? Triggering a whole new range of tensions in my team? Possibly sending Barnes back into insanity? Needing 24/7 supervision?"
Brooke glares at him.
Tony shrugs. "No."
"Why not?"
"We can handle a little havoc now and then."
Brooke sighs. Is that supposed to be a compliment or something?
"Where's Bucky?"
"We've decided to give him a little space. He's in a room on the 58th floor," Tony replies. "Rogers is trying to convince him to let us take a look at the arm, I hope. Actually, Hudnall, I will need you to pull up the analysis we already have on it."
Monna kisses Brooke's cheek before she goes into work mode and leaves with Tony. Brooke doesn't really mind. The silence of the hospital room is nice and lulls her back to sleep.
"I know you are angry," Bucky says.
No shit, Steve wants to say. "I am not angry," he says instead.
Bucky snorts. He doesn't believe him. Of course not. "Steve. You can admit it. You can yell at me. It's fine."
They are in the room Bucky is currently locked up in. That is not exactly the case, of course. He could leave if he wanted to, but cameras would be on him closely monitoring him. Probably that will be the case once he moves back to the 76th floor anyway.
Bucky sits on the bed in a pair of sweatpants and watches Steve's back. Steve stares out of the window stubbornly. Or well, cowardly. He was never one to shy away from conflicts. But conflicts with Bucky? That's entirely different.
He sighs. "That arm has a will on its own."
"Possibly," Bucky murmurs from behind him.
Steve is not sure if it is intentional or not but it is all it takes for him to snap. He turns around and looks Bucky in the eye. "Come again?"
Bucky stays silent.
"Did you just say possibly, Buck?" He asks. "Possibly? You almost choked Sam in your sleep the other day. You sent Brooke in the fucking med bay. And all you can say is possibly?"
Bucky's face does that weird thing when he seems to be smirking, frowning in offense and getting angry at the same time.
When it used to happen back in the old days, Steve grabbed his sketchpad and left their apartment. By the time he got back there was only one emotion to deal with.
But now there is no time for that. He needs to address this issue and urgently. This might ruin his friendship and relationship with Bucky, his friendship with Sam, bring down the atmosphere they work hard on to maintain in the team and it will certainly give leverage to Tony in their never ending friendly or not so friendly teasing war.
"That arm is dangerous. It makes you dangerous. You'll go to Stark to get it checked."
"But—" Bucky starts and Steve can't decide if he is upset over that prospect or just wants to have the last word as if they were in a couple argument.
But they are not. Does Bucky even know that? Does he know what's at stake? Steve wonders.
"No," he says in a determined tone. Seeing Bucky's expression it might have come out a little harsh, he concludes.
But he takes a deep breath and goes on. Come on Steve, conflict handling 101. You can do it.
"You're going to Stark to get it checked or you and I will have serious issues, is that clear?" He asks. Damn it Steve.
He has to retreat. He gives a curt nod to Bucky who stares at him blankly and without any protest as he leaves.
Well, it could have hardly gone more wrong, Steve concludes. Perhaps it is time he assessed just how important Brooke Marlow is for the Avengers.
Brooke gets cleared by the doctor the next morning. Monna texts her that she got a little caught up with the ARM project (all caps) and she invites Brooke for dinner next week.
Monna is in the Tower too, by the way, as most departments of Stark Industries still operate here. But Brooke knows they won't meet more than usual. For one because they meet a lot anyway, and also because their working methods will differ greatly. Monna likes to exhaust herself beyond human limits when she has a project, just like her boss.
Something is definitely different when she enters the 53rd floor returning from a shopping tour three days later. Hazel and Garnett sit on the couch giggling and cooing to something Brooke does not see.
"Hey princess. Can I name her?" Garnett asks. Brooke raises her eyebrow in confusion while Hazel stands up and scoops the object of their attention in her arms.
Brooke frowns as she approaches her and hands a cat over. "She came for you," Hazel says.
"What?" Brooke asks.
She looks down at the cat. It's beautiful, actually. It has bluish hair with grey stripes on it, green eyes and it already purrs and rubs its little head against Brooke's upper arm.
"What?" She repeats. "Mine?"
Hazel nods and motions towards the coffee table in front of the couches. Brooke chuckles in surprise seeing the envelope on it.
"It's real paper? Like in the Middle Ages? Does Tony know that we have it in the tower?" Brooke whispers conspiratorially as she moves towards it. The cat jumps to the floor and runs to Garnett, rubbing against his legs.
"We are afraid to tell him. What if FRI gets jealous?" Garnett asks as he pets the cat.
Brooke smiles as she tears open the old school communication channel. It holds a little note.
I am sorry.
I thought you would like her, she's three years old. Got her from a local shelter.
Don't tell Stark.
J.B.B.
With a sigh Brooke drops the letter on the table. "FRIDAY?" She calls.
"Yes Miss Marlow?"
"Does Mr Stark know about the cat?"
"Yes Miss Marlow. He also wants to ask you to find a name for the feline. This way he can put a name tag on its collar."
"Collar?"
"Yes, to be safe the collar Mr Stark designed for the cat has GPS in it for tracking and also, it will make it possible to keep the animal out of dangerous zones should it leave your quarters. This way she will be safe."
"So… Tony is not mad?"
"Mr Stark loves kittens, Miss Marlow. His exact words."
Brooke actually loves cats. She had three growing up and she wanted to have one in her flat too, but the landlord wouldn't allow her. She is not even mad at Bucky about the risky training session, but damn, now she has to start warming up to him, doesn't she?
The kitten gets named Blueberry. Everyone calls her Blue (except for Sam Wilson, obviously, who meets the cat the next movie night and from that moment on calls her Her Majesty Lady Blueberry Cheesecake).
Blue spends a big portion of her first night playing with Brooke's toes until she gets fed up with the kitten and locks her out. When she wakes up, she finds Blue napping on Patrick's chest on the couch. Her grumpy teammate doesn't seem so intimidating anymore.
Steve feels a light shiver run up his spine as he turns and pulls the shield in front of his chest instinctively, still gasping in surprise as the knife slides off and buries itself in the central mat of the gym.
It is not a training knife. It is a real freaking knife and someone threw it at him. He doesn't need to look at his attacker to know who it is. He snaps his fingers to shut off the training robots before he speaks.
"What the hell, Romanoff?!"
Natasha reaches for the next knife in the holder on her thigh and raises it above her head. "Don't be such a crybaby. I knew you would be fine."
"Fine as in not dead or not cut?"
"Semantics," she huffs.
"And may I enquire why you are aiming at me again?"
"What have you done to Bucky?"
Steve raises his eyebrow.
The friendship between Natasha and Bucky is one he has been happy about. Truly. Bucky seems relaxed around her and she loves that at least one person on the team is both willing and able to beat the hell out of her during training. No pain, no gain, Steve, Clint shrugged when he asked the archer why Natasha seemed to enjoy it so much.
But right now Steve questions his previous judgement.
"What are you talking about?" Did Bucky tell Natasha about he whole "we will have issues" discussion? Because Steve is really not proud of that one but he also does not have a good explanation for it.
Natasha huffs as she throws the knife at a target behind Steve - he is sure he would get a heart attack, if it wasn't for the super soldier serum -, and taps on her watch.
Steve hears FRIDAY's monotone.
Incoming text from Bucky
If you happen to see Steve could you ask him if we're still dating? Not so sure about it right now.
Steve bites his lip. "The answer is yes," he says in an even voice although it stings him that Bucky is so insecure about them. "You can tell him. Yes."
Natasha reaches into the holder again.
"What?!" Steve asks hiding behind the shield again. "Isn't this the right answer? It's okay, we're fine. It's a minor issue— a minor argument we've been having but—"
The bullet hits the shield and the impact forces Steve take a step back. "Did you just shoot at me? Natasha, we'll seriously have to talk about your anger management methods. How does Barton put up with them?"
He risks a peek and when he sees Natasha has her arms crossed in front of her chest, he lowers the shield.
"Rogers. Your boyfriend thinks you might have broken up with him. He needs you. Go and talk to him. I am not a messenger."
Steve groans. "Will he let Stark run the tests? With the arm?"
Natasha glares at him. She literally shot at him just moments ago but now he feels even more intimidated. "Not. A. Messenger," she drawls before she turns around and leaves.
Steve sighs as he heads to the changing room. He needs a shower.
Three days passed since his disastrous argument with Bucky. As shameful as it is to admit it, he hasn't talked to him ever since, although yesterday he left the 58th floor. He did not move back to the 76th though. He is in an otherwise empty suite on the 50th and Steve didn't go to see him yet.
He heard about the cat. Of course he did. Clint drove Bucky to the shelter and they video called Bruce to help them choose between the two finalist cats, or so Clint told him.
It was a nice gesture. Really. Steve is more of a dog person but Bucky adores cats. Steve has always imagined that one day they will move to the countryside, buy a house and keep animals. All kinds. The cats and the dogs won't be allowed inside the house but Steve already knows Bucky will bend that rule.
Well, of course first he should talk to his boyfriend, he admits. Natasha is right. Captain America is a goddamned coward, isn't he?
Only two days after receiving Blue Brooke decides that she will be the only one with access to cat food. Blue is beautiful, loves her belly and is a master of cajolery. So if Brooke wants to prevent the kitten from getting too fat by too many treats, she has to monitor her consumption.
She decides to use the kitchen of the 50th floor to store the cans and bags of food she bought for the kitten. She realises the kitchen has other advantages too. Ever since Brooke found Rufus munching on her granola bar, and not even batting an eyelid when she attempted to scold him for it (We're on one team, Marlow. How are you going to save my life if you are so butthurt over food?), she doesn't feel that comfortable about storing snacks in the kitchen of Plan B.
She is not surprised when the kitten joins her at 11:30pm as she leaves her quarters to get a box of chocolate milk from her secret kitchen. Blue chose Brooke as her primary human and thus has a tendency to follow her around. And she always seems to know when food might be involved.
"You'll get renamed Garfield if you want to keep up with this," Brooke remarks as they arrive. The kitchen is dark and when she switches the light on, she gasps. "What the hell?!"
Bucky Barnes sits at the kitchen island, his metal arm stretched on the bar. The skin of his left shoulder is red of blood. He holds a knife in his flesh hand.
"You did that?" Brooke asks as she steps closer.
Blue doesn't concern herself with the blood or the painful look in Bucky's eyes. She jumps on his lap and settles on it.
"Bucky. You did that?" Brooke repeats when her grandfather doesn't reply.
Blue starts purring.
Bucky swallows but stays silent. Brooke steps closer.
This should be terrifying. This is the same man that almost killed her just days ago and now he has a knife.
But Brooke is not afraid. Brooke is not afraid because she sees him. She sees James Barnes the way he is. Vulnerable. Wounded. Exhausted. In need of help.
She reaches him and stretches her arm for the knife in his hand. He jerks it away.
"Bucky please," Brooke coos. She carefully touches his right shoulder. He shivers under her touch but at least he doesn't pull back. "I'm calling Steve, okay?" Brooke asks softly. She learned it in the army. Talk softly to frightened children and brainwashed assassin grandpas. Or something like that.
"No," Bucky replies. The sound comes out hoarse and hostile. "No." Brooke glances at the metal arm. The index finger twitches.
"Bucky, you're hurt," Brooke tries to argue. "You did this?" She asks again.
Bucky looks down to the cat. Blue gazes up at him. They obviously have a discussion and Brooke wonders if the kitten is a real cat or another experiment from the 40s. Humans turned into animals or whatnot.
"I can't get it off," Bucky finally admits, probably to the cat, Brooke decides. "I can't get the fucking arm off."
Brooke stares at him and sees him, his determined face, his desperation. The blood on his shoulder where he tried to, what, cut off the damn thing?
And she knows she is in for a long night.
