As always, thanks for sticking with the story, lovely people :) In this one we get to witness Brooke and Bucky's hard night. Enjoy!


Brooke tries to reach for the knife again, slowly and carefully as she keeps eye contact with the man.

"Hey. We can get it off. We can have another one designed. One that you like. Or we can get you a regular prosthetic. What about that? They have really good ones by now. Or you can just take a break and go one armed for a while. Who cares, right?"

There's silence and then, "Steve," Bucky says, his grip on the knife getting stronger. "Steve cares."

"What? I don't think it would bother him, he used to have every kind of illnesses, didn't he?"

Bucky stays silent again. "He wants me to get it tested by Stark."

"Tony can take it off," Brooke says. "I'm sure of it."

"No," Bucky responds. The metal index finger twitches again.

Brooke sighs and steps back. "I'm going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom, okay? Be right back."

To her immense relief, when she gets back with the kit, Bucky is still there. Blue still purrs in his lap as well.

Brooke works in silence. She wipes the blood off as best she can and pours antiseptic on the wound before patching it up. Bucky lets her, fortunately, and doesn't even wince.

"What is it with Steve?" Brooke murmurs as she tidies up the kitchen bar. "You had a tiff?"

Bucky snorts. "You can call it that."

Brooke waits for him to continue.

He puts the knife down absentmindedly as he starts petting Blue.

Brooke wants to move forward to snatch it but she refrains from any sudden movement. She has to play it cool or Bucky gets panicked again.

"Are you guys talking?"

"We're not."

"Ouch." Brooke smiles at Bucky when he looks up at her. "Well, as someone with absolutely zero experience in successful relationship conflict handling, I think the longer you wait the worse it will get."

"No shit," Bucky says, but Brooke sees the ghost of a smile on his lips. "No successful relationship conflict handling?" he repeats thoughtfully.

"No, never."

"No relationship?"

"Actually I am not even sure about that."

"So Wilson and you are just..." Bucky seems uncomfortable, but it is grandpa Bucky now and not wounded ex-assassin Bucky, so it is better than the alternative, Brooke figures. Plus, she kind of likes seeing Bucky flustered over her non-existent romantic life.

"Shagging?" she asks helpfully.

Bucky casts his eyes downwards and shrugs.

"It's not even that, honestly," Brooke finally answers. "We're... buddies. That's all."

Bucky seems relieved by that information, so Brooke decides to return to the previous topic.

"So you're not going to go to Tony?"

"Obviously not," Bucky confirms, judging by his darkening eyes already falling back into his gloomy state.

Before he could remember the knife next to the metal arm, Brooke makes another suggestion.

"Monna."

"What?"

"We're going to Monna. She works in Development at SI and she knows about your a—"

"The arm," Bucky cuts in. "It's not my fucking arm."

Brooke frowns. "Right, sorry," she backs off. "So what I'm saying is, she can help you remove this."

Bucky looks at her without replying for so long that Brooke opens her mouth again.

But then he nods once.

That is all Brooke needs. She retrieves a bag of chips from the cupboard and three boxes of chocolate milk from the fridge.

"Blue," she calls and the kitten, albeit reluctantly, jumps off Bucky.


They reach the 27th floor where Monna is working in her lab.

They are greeted by JOCELIN, the AI responsible for Stark Industries. "Miss Marlow, I have to inform you that these labs are not safe for the feline. It will not be able to enter."

Brooke looks down to Blue. The kitten now has a white collar that contains a chip to keep her out of dangerous locations in the tower. The security system blocks the door if it senses the chip.

"You need to get back to your room, little one," Brooke says.

Blue meows and lays down on the floor rolling around and stretching.

Brooke rolls her eyes but Bucky chuckles.

"Mo," she calls once they step inside the lab leaving a rather offended Blue out in the corridor.

"Over here!" Monna replies from behind something that looks like a piece of a spaceship or an Iron Man armour or modern art displayed on a stool.

When she sees Brooke and Bucky she puts down the suspiciously looking tool she tinkers with on metal plates. Or something. Brooke has never known much about how her weapons get made. (She knows how to use them though.)

She tries to signal to Monna to act civilised but she already fixes a glare on Bucky.

"Monna Hudnall, Bucky Barnes," Brooke rushes with the introduction.

Bucky stretches out his flesh hand which Monna accepts rather annoyed.

"Mo, we talked it over. It was an accident," Brooke explains wearily. "I brought you a snack," she adds dropping the bag of chips on the desk next to the plates. "I also got chocolate milk for both of you if you kids play nicely."

Monna rolls her eyes but takes the bag and opens it, pushing a handful of chips into her mouth. Only now does she notice the bandage on Bucky's shoulder. "What happened?"

Bucky shrugs. "I was trying to take the arm off."

"To cut the arm off," Brooke corrects.

Monna stares at them. "You tried to cut it off? You can't just cut it off, it's impossible without injuring yourself."

"What do you think the bandage is for?" Bucky snarks.

Brooke gives him a warning glance before turning back to Monna.

"We need your help. After all what's happened, he wants to get it off somehow. That arm is dangerous anyway."

"Well, Tony would be happy to take a look at it."

Brooke shakes her head before Bucky could speak. "There's a reason we're in your lab in the middle of the night, not Tony's."

They are lucky because Monna has huge professional aspirations and working with the infamous arm is definitely one of them.

"Sit over there, Mr Barnes," she finally says.


Two hours later the bag of chips is gone and so is the other one Brooke supplied in the meantime, Monna and Bucky are on first name terms and Bucky knows everything about Monna's messy love life.

"But it's fine now," Monna says as she enters the newest batch of data into a StarkPad.

Brooke wonders if she would get one too. It seems fancy.

"I am not really looking for anything serious, you know. With this job and everything."

"So it is not your decision to work so much?" Bucky asks.

"Oh I could work less."

"So you could squeeze in a relationship."

Monna stops and looks over Brooke who hides her smile behind her chocolate milk.

"No, because I am concentrating on my professional life."

"By overworking yourself."

Brooke blinks in surprise as Monna shoves Bucky's flesh shoulder in a friendly manner.

"What about you then? Why isn't your handsome boyfriend here?" She asks back making Brooke hiss.

"They had a tiff," she informs Monna.

"What about?" She asks. When Brooke shrugs, she turns back to Bucky with a questioning look.

"So, can you take it off or not?" Bucky asks instead of replying.

Monna hums as she glances back at the screen one more time before clearing her throat and looking at Bucky. "Okay, here's the thing: I can take it off, but it will take hours and it will probably hurt a lot. On the other hand, we will need to run other tests on you afterwards to determine if it is this arm that causes the problems or it is something on the level of your brain or nerves. Because in that case another arm would cause the same… well, issues."

Bucky listens carefully and nods. "Do it. Take it off."

"Bucky, you also need to be aware that at the moment we don't really have a suitable replacement, so you would have to stay like that, with one arm." Before he could react, she goes on, "temporarily, of course."

"I don't mind," Bucky shrugs.

"Right." Monna sighs. "Alright. I am not doing it right now though. We all need to rest a little. So now it's 4am, right? 4:12. Anyway. Let's meet here, say, 2pm. Sleep a little, have a shower and don't eat after 10."


"You should tell Steve," Brooke remarks as they leave the lab after saying goodbye to Monna.

"Zero experience makes you think so?" Bucky asks.

"Get out of my face. You know I'm right."

"Shut it or I'll have to ground you."

Before Brooke could retort, they step inside the suit of the 50th floor.

And they face a very upset Steve Rogers.

"I tried to call you like a hundred times. But you left your phone here," Steve says blankly.

He sits on the kitchen bar wearing white pyjama pants and a purple t-shirt with a bow and arrows on it. It was a gift from Clint and Steve secretly thinks it is hilarious.

"What happened?" he asks hopping off the counter as he sees the bandage on Bucky's shoulder.

Brooke clears her throat. "Well, it's getting late. See you around, old man. Bye, Captain," she smiles tightly at Steve and leaves the pair alone.


Steve feels uncomfortable under Bucky's gaze and rubs his neck as he steps closer. "Buck? What happened?"

Bucky shrugs. "Brooke's friend can take the arm off. In the afternoon."

Steve stares at him, not quite certain what he just heard. "What? That arm? You're getting it off?"

"Yeah. I tried to do it alone, but..." he trails off motioning towards the bandage.

Steve feels his stomach turn. He takes a deep breath trying to calm down.

But Bucky doesn't have the time nor the patience for this conversation. "It was a long day, Rogers. I just want to go to bed."

Steve bites his lip. "Sure, okay."

It is obvious he can't just come here after not contacting Bucky for days and expect him to work out their problems. He knows that. Still, the not-so-hidden sourness in his tone makes Bucky flinch.

"You know what? No. You don't get to come in here, pretend that you are actually worried about me and get all offended when I don't want to have a chit-chat with you at 4am, okay?" He snaps.

"I just-"

"Yeah, I don't care," Bucky says. "You're not going to play the nice guy and get away with it again."

Steve feels a surge of anger in his chest at this which is ridiculous and unfortunate, because he should let it slip so they can go to sleep and discuss it tomorrow.

"Again? What the hell are you talking about?" he asks instead. "I came here because I care about you."

"You're two days late to show that," Bucky points out.

Steve knows that all too well. He has been, for two days now. And that makes it much worse. "You don't think that I... that it was because…."

"That it was because you fail at handling conflicts efficiently in this relationship?" Bucky barks out.

Steve stares at him for a moment. Bucky has never been very verbal about what's between them. Back in their teens it was experiencing, in the army it was fooling around, recently it has been just Steve and I.

Hearing him call it a relationship is a treat, really.

Except it isn't because Bucky only calls it that to point out what a coward Steve is. Charming.

"I tried to make you understand earlier that the arm is dangerous. Hell, I've been trying to for weeks!"

Bucky looks at him with a cold expression. "Maybe you should have insisted more."

Steve can see Bucky knows that it was not fair because he moves forward when Steve charges at the door.

"Steve," he calls, but Steve does not stop. He steps into the elevator and presses on the button repeatedly to make it close the door faster.

But it is not enough because Bucky stops in front of him and keeps his gaze on Steve's. Although he could easily step inside or block the door, he doesn't.

"I'm sorry" is all he says before the door cuts between them and Steve only sees his own anguished face reflected on it.

He could open the door again, he muses. He could wait until the elevator reaches up the 76th floor and return it to the 50th.

He probably should. Bucky apologised after all.

But he does not.

Bucky does not come to the 76th in the next three hours that Steve spends staring at the ceiling from the couch of the living area.

Then he falls asleep.


When Brooke gets back to the 53rd floor, she is surprised to see Hazel and Sam sleeping on the couch in front of the TV screen that was probably turned off by FRIDAY. They are fully clothed and her head rests on his shoulder.

Blue purrs on Sam's chest, the little brat. When she looks up and sees Brooke, she jumps off of the man, waking him up with her movements.

He yawns and stretches, sitting up.

Hazel doesn't wake up, fortunately, because Brooke is really not in the mood to talk to her.

Or to Sam, really, but it seems it is out of her control now.

She bends over to pet Blue who rubs against her shin. When she stands again, Sam is right in front of her.

"Hey. How are you? I went to see you but the nurse was kind of pissed with Monna not wanting to leave already, so…" he trails off.

Brooke shrugs as she goes to the tap to fill a glass with water.

She feels uneasy and she is not sure why. Perhaps by the fact that Sam Wilson lazes around on the floor of Plan B, hangs out with her cat, sleeps cosied up to Hazel and seems unapologetic about it.

"I'm fine," she says curtly.

"Are you sure?" Sam asks raising his eyebrow. "You seem… weird."

"Well, as far as I'm aware, these are my quarters. I should be allow to look weird in my quarters at 4am without being questioned about it, right?"

Sam is taken aback. "Are you mad at me?" He asks.

"Just tired."

As Brooke tries to brush past him though, he uses his chance and grabs her wrist.

"I was worried about you."

"So you came to see Oakley, I suppose," Brooke bites out. "Let go of me."

Sam still holds her as he glances at Hazel's sleeping form.

He frowns as he looks back at Brooke. "What is your problem, Barnes?"

"I just told you. I'm tired and you're blocking the path to my bed. Let go of me Wilson, I will not ask you again." She doesn't even notice that Sam called her Barnes and that it didn't bother her the slightest.

Sam sighs but pulls his hand back. "You seem pretty jealous, sweetheart."

Brooke gives out a rather sarcastic laugh. "Don't overthink it, Wilson. In order for me to get jealous I would need to have feelings for you."

Sam has his cocky smirk back on his face. "Which you don't."

"Which I don't."

"Right." Sam keeps looking at her in the way that makes her stomach warm.

"Goodnight, Wilson."

"Can I come and sleep with you? The couch is so uncomfortable."

Brooke can't help but chuckle as she heads to her room.

"How sad. If only you had a whole floor to yourself in this very same building."

"Yeah, no, actually it's not like that, because my water pipes are broken. Whole suit's flooded."

Brooke giggles softly. "Try Hazel's room. She won't need it tonight it seems."

"What an ice queen."

"But you like me."

"Yes I do," Sam grins. "Goodnight, Brooke."