Hi Everyone! I know it was a really long break, but now I am back with this story :) I tried to make this a little longer than usual.
In this one we get to see what happens to the arm and Brooke gets a little closer to the team. Enjoy!
PS: I realised it would be fun to have Pietro back, so he is stil alive.
Steve groans when he wakes up to the sound of breaking eggs.
"Wakey-wakey, princess," he hears a familiar voice.
He opens his eyes with a long sigh. "You're not Bucky."
"Fortunately. I couldn't take your incessant need to risk your life. I am not up to that kind of foreplay," Sam winks. "Scrambled eggs, waffles or cornflakes?"
"Sleep," Steve mumbles closing his eyes again. "What time is it?"
"12:04 pm," Sam responds. "And for some reason you are still in bed. And Barnes is nowhere to be found."
Steve groans and sits up stretching his arms above his head. "If you want to ask something, spit it out."
Sam busies himself with the scrambled eggs. "Everyone knows about your… beef."
"And?" Steve prompts.
"And if you broke up I would like to hear it from you and not from the gossip magazines."
Steve frowns. "We're fine."
"Yeah, sure," Sam snorts. "Then why are you looking like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like breakfast is not a good enough reason to get out of the bed anymore."
"Maybe you are not a good enough cook."
Sam seems unimpressed. "That's low, Rogers."
Steve groans and finally stands up to head to the bathroom. By the time he returns, Sam has already finished his scrambled eggs and sits on the couch scanning through Steve's book.
"He wants to take the arm off," Steve says as he steps to the stove and grabs the pan with the remaining eggs in it searching around for a wooden spatula.
Sam looks up. "So what's the big deal about it? If he doesn't want the arm he doesn't want the arm. Shouldn't he have a choice about it?"
Steve clicks his tongue in irritation. "I kept telling him, Sam. I told him that arm is not safe, he has to get it checked out, he has to be careful. And what was his answer? That he keeps it under control and that I was a control freak and I was imagining things."
"And you're not."
"No, I'm not. I'm just worried. I was worried. And then Marlow comes along, they become best buddies and she takes her to her friend and her friend agrees to take the arm off."
"Monna?" Sam asks.
Steve snorts. "Please tell me you didn't shag her too."
Sam chuckles. "No. I just gave her a ride."
Steve raises his eyebrow.
"A car ride, don't get so suspicious now."
"Yeah, Monna." Steve groans. "He tried to cut the arm off."
"Literally?" Sam asks, shocked.
"Yes. He tried to cut the arm off, made friends with Marlow, fixed an appointment for getting it off and when I told him that's what I was pushing him about, he said I didn't insist enough."
Sam frowns. "And then?"
"I left. He didn't follow me."
"But you didn't break up."
"Which part of this story seems like a breakup?"
"I don't know, man, a girl broke up with me because I didn't bring her breakfast in bed. I don't know shit about relationships, clearly."
"Me either. Clearly," Steve sighs.
There is not much else to say, so they decide to drop the topic and choose a movie to watch instead.
In approximately eighty-four minutes the door opens and a cat walks in followed by Brooke Marlow.
"And why are you not holding Bucky's hand right now?" She asks crossing her arms in front of her chest and fixing a glare on both of them that Steve knows all too well. He has seen the exact same expression on his boyfriend's face more times than he could count.
Brooke sits on a table, her sock clad feet dangling, she eats yogurt and she listens to Monna's chat about a new project she tries to push through Tony.
It is 1:32pm. She barely slept and she is not happy about the hand-to-hand session with Natasha later. She should go back to sleep.
But she cannot, not when Bucky is about to get that monster of an arm ripped off his body. Or cut off. Or melted off. Now that she thinks about it, she has no idea.
"Mo, how will you sort out the arm thing?" She asks interrupting a sentence that has been going on for at least three minutes now.
Monna looks up from a metal plate she tinkers with. "It will hurt, if that is the question," she says and shrugs defensively when she sees Brooke wince. "He is free to go to a doctor. I am not one. I have a fairly good understanding on the arm part and close to nothing on the human part."
"Can't you give him anaesthetic?"
"Brooke. I am no doctor," Monna snaps.
Brooke nods curtly and returns to her yogurt. When she looks up again, she sees Monna study her intently.
"You're worried for him."
"He is distressed. He tried to cut it off himself and his jerk of a boyfriend is not even there for him."
Monna giggles. "How is not getting involved with grandpa going?"
Brooke sends her an annoyed look. "Why, thanks for asking. It is going great."
"My boyfriend is not a jerk," she hears a mildly annoyed and/or amused voice.
She raises her eyebrow at Bucky while Monna gestures him to sit in a chair that has extensions where he can place the arm. "Isn't he? Then he is about to arrive, I suppose. To be here for you?"
Monna clears her throat which probably means that she should stop talking. Monna is probably right.
Bucky shrugs. It seems weirdly defensive. "We had a minor spat yesterday. So I would rather just get it over with. Alone."
Monna comes over to his side and grabs a leather strap that he eyes warily.
"We will have to stabilise you. Do you think you will be able to take it?"
Bucky stays silent.
"Look, I don't want you to get a flashback or something. But it will hurt. So we will need the arm—"
"No, I understand the concept," Bucky says. "I just… I can't take straps."
Monna sighs and glances at Brooke. "So you think you can just hold still?" She finally asks.
"Yeah," Bucky nods.
"Bucky…" Monna seems defeated. "I want to help you but I won't cut into you if I can't strap this goddamn arm down."
"And are you prepared for me in Soldier mode?" Bucky asks, less friendly with Monna than before.
Monna's jaw clenches. "Is anyone ever?"
"Fair point," Bucky grants. "Just do it."
They keep arguing for some minutes but in the end the arm is strapped down and Bucky looks even more defeated than before. Brooke's heart squeezes when Monna lifts up a painful looking drill. She had offered him booze earlier but Bucky preferred to keep a clean mind. Unfortunately a clean mind clearly means pain. Lots of it.
Brooke can't take it anymore when Bucky glances towards the door as if he was waiting for someone to show up.
"I'll be back in a moment," she announces and hops off the table.
Steve does not like being questioned in his own suit about his own relationship by someone who had claimed explicitly that she didn't want to do anything with her grandfather.
"Beg your pardon?" He asks.
"You heard me." Blue meows to emphasise her words.
Steve rolls his eyes. "Marlow, I don't think it is your place to tell me how to support my boyfriend."
"Your boyfriend is scared shitless and is experiencing severe pain as we speak."
Steve stares at Brooke as if wanting to decide if she is serious.
Brooke is not a patient person, as Monna points it out to her at least once a month. So when she speaks next she practically barks at Steve in a way people usually do not talk to their national - and international - hero.
"Get your ass down the 27th floor or I…"
"Yeah? You what? What are you gonna do, Marlow?" Steve asks back crossing his arms in front of his chest. He does it because he reacts badly to threats and ultimatums and his boyfriend's granddaughter's clumsy attempts at getting them make up.
Brooke glares at him but then her eyes zone in on Sam who still sits on the couch. "Will you say something?" She snaps.
"What did I do now?" Sam retorts.
"Nothing. That is exactly my problem," Brooke hisses.
"Wait, hold up a damn second. What if you don't try to get me involved in the Rogers couple's mess?"
"You mean the Barnes couple? As clearly he is the more invested one. At least he never let Rogers suffer, did he?"
Sam stares at the girl, his mind clearly playing back their infamous first encounter with the Winter Soldier, Steve figures. Then he chuckles.
But Brooke's icy glance confirms she wasn't joking.
Sam sighs and turns to Steve. "Why don't we just go and check on him, mate?" He asks.
Steve clearly feels betrayed if his own icy eyes are any indication, Brooke muses, but she cannot really suppress the smile tugging at her lips.
Sam Wilson sides with her opposing Steve Rogers. Well, he might do it because he had a fun time in her bed and wants to get back there - not like that is a possibility -, but he does it anyway.
Steve groans in defeat but finally nods. "Let's do that," he says. "But if you made him go through this—" he starts and Brooke steps closer, her brown eyes shining with anger.
"Do you want to say something to me, uncle Steve?" She hisses.
Sam clears his throat and steps closer to the pair to grab Brooke's wrist and tug her back from Steve.
"Let's go," he suggests.
Steve is clearly upset and it makes him pick his pace up as they make their way to Monna's lab on the 27th floor.
It gives Brooke a little time to rant to Sam which she is grateful for.
"He can play the good guy all he wants but If he gave a damn about Bucky he would be by his side."
"They are in a beef," Sam comments.
"So what?"
Sam rolls his eyes and changes the topic. "You seem awfully protective of your grandpa."
"I found him in a kitchen with a knife in his hand trying to cut his metal arm off. I think I have a reason to be concerned."
Sam smiles at her. "You are actually a sweet girl, aren't you?"
Brooke snorts. "Did you think of me as a cruel heartless bitch just because I did not shag you again?"
Sam stares at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. "I love that you don't have any kind of tact. Must be genetic."
But before Brooke can answer there is a ring and then FRIDAY speaks.
"Captain, your presence is needed at the 2nd floor."
The 2nd floor only had meeting rooms so Brooke is unsure of what is happening.
"I need ten more minutes, FRI," Steve replies.
"Now."
It is so rare that the AI uses this tone that all three of them stop walking. Blue gives out a distressed meow.
"Beg your pardon?" Steve asks slowly, his eyes still on the door of Monna's lab in front of them.
"Mr Stark says they need you there now. A jet takes off in one hour."
"Where?" Sam asks.
"Japan."
At this point all of them stand still on the corridor.
"Steve?" Sam calls softly.
Steve is clearly having a dilemma, Brooke notices; he wants to see Bucky but he also feels he needs to get the situation under control.
"Captain," FRIDAY calls again.
Steve sighs and turns around to head back to the elevator.
"Tell him I needed to go," he says.
Brooke stays silent. Sam still stands next to her. He was not requested at the meeting which means, Brooke concludes, that he is not going. It is nice to have him next to her.
"I'll go and see Bucky," she says.
"I'm coming with you."
Brooke bites her lip. "I appreciate the sentiment, Wilson. But his boyfriend who he is in a beef with just left for a mission and he is getting the arm taken off, so I am not sure he wants to see you."
Sam chuckles but it is not the usual warm sound.
"Fair enough. Come on, her Majesty Lady Blueberry Cheesecake. Let's get you a snack."
Brooke wonders, not for the first time, if Blue speaks English because she is prompt on her paws galloping away.
"Not too much though," she calls after Sam. "She'll get fat."
Sam turns around and winks at her. "Don't you trust me, Barnes?"
"Not enough to believe you can resist Blue's begging eyes," she responds.
"Well yeah, girls begging for me to give them what they want is my weakness."
Brooke rolls her eyes. "Get laid, Wilson. Your jokes have taken one particular direction lately. It is just sad."
It is a silent agreement between Bucky and Monna that they use Brooke's absence as an excuse to put off the intervention.
So they start chatting. They talk about Monna's new projects and then about her recent dates because Bucky finds Tinder simply fascinating.
"It is a horrible application. Full of horrible men," Monna says rolling her eyes seeing how amused Bucky gets.
"Come on, give me your phone."
Monna stares at him and shakes her head. But it only takes five more minutes to convince her to hand the phone over.
So when Nick Fury enters the lab fifteen minutes later, he finds the Winter Soldier swiping through man profiles and Monna making remarks on his choices: Are you serious? What is your problem, that was a cute one.
"May I ask how you ended up scheduling a bloody amputation without informing us or bothering to look up the official process for it?" He asks.
Bucky frowns at the man and is about to respond when Monna decides it is better if she handles it.
"We are sorry, sir," she says placing her hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder to signal him to shut up when his eyes widen in indignation.
Fury seems taken aback too.
"What was your plan? To cut it off? How? He doesn't seem to have taken anaesthetic."
"He didn't."
Fury stares at Monna so long that she almost starts begging him not to have her fired.
"If you want to have it removed, Barnes, you will go to the med bay and schedule an operation like civilised folks do," Fury said with a finality that Bucky clearly has trouble reacting to.
"Is that clear?" Fury asks when he says nothing.
Bucky presses his lips together but nods slowly when he feels Monna's nail dig into his shoulder.
"Good," Fury says. "I should also notify you that Rogers is leaving. He has a mission in Japan."
"What?" Bucky finally speaks. "And I am not going?"
Fury shakes his head. "Small mission. Rogers, Barton and Maximoff."
"Which one? The weird or the fast?" Bucky asks back.
Monna could swear Fury's lip twitches upwards. "The weird one," he finally says.
Bucky doesn't seem relaxed after Fury leaves. But before Monna could say anything Brooke enters the lab.
"The arm is still on," she notes.
"Fury just banned us from the intervention," Monna says. "So do you guys want to have lunch or something?"
Brooke wants to say Steve was about to come see Bucky. She has a silent argument about it for a while. After all it was the truth and maybe Bucky would feel at ease knowing it.
But the thing is… he was not willing to come see Bucky. He was pressurised into it.
Telling Bucky about it might be misleading. He might end up thinking his jerk of a boyfriend cared for him more than he actually did. It would lead to bigger disappointment. And it would do a favour to Steve that Brooke wanted to avoid at all costs.
So she smiles innocently and nods. "Why not."
Bucky is not in the mood for lunch so he gets back to the 50th floor.
When the elevator opens and he steps out he sees Blue lazing around.
He rolls his eyes but doesn't send the cat out.
"Are you scared, Barnes?" Natasha asks.
She is cranky, Brooke observes. Great.
She still has her survival instincts so she doesn't tell her that the name is Marlow.
"No ma'am," she responds as she assumes the starting position.
The training is more like an introduction, or supposed to be, anyway. To see what the trainees can do.
Steve is not here so his position is filled in by Sam who sits on a nearby bench leaning his elbows on his knees and watching the two of them definitely amused.
In three minutes Brooke is on her back with a hand on her hip that throbs painfully.
She is not too enthusiastic to get back on her feet the third time, fifteen minutes into the training session.
At least she managed to land a roundhouse kick into Natasha's side that made her gasp for air. That exceeded her expectations greatly and she is proud of herself.
If Sam's smirk is any indication, he is proud of her too.
"I hear it is going great with grandpa," Natasha remarks when she sits next to her.
Brooke pants as she turns on her side and curls up.
"He wanted to cut off the arm," she says.
Natasha nods. Obviously she knows about it, Brooke muses.
"Are you friends?" She asks. When she sees Natasha's raised eyebrow, she shrugs. "There is no privacy in this tower, is there?"
"I guess not," Natasha responds. "So on that note, how is our bird friend in bed?" She asks with an innocent smile.
Brooke stares at her before chuckling. "You weren't bluffing."
Natasha smirks. "I never do."
"So are you cranky because Clint left and you didn't?"
Brooke feels as proud seeing Natasha taken aback by that as she did over the kick seven minutes ago.
Then the Black Widow gives her a bright smile.
It is frightening.
"I don't need anyone to get cranky. I can manage it alone," she finally says.
When Brooke leaves the mat she bumps into Sam. He stands in front of the bench and when she sits onto it to put on her shoes he smiles down at her.
"Want to give me some feedback?" Brooke asks busying herself with tying her shoelaces.
"Wanted to ask how the bird guy is in bed," he responds with a widening grin.
"Enthusiastic," Brooke teases looking up to meet his eyes.
"Why are you saying it like it was a bad thing?"
Brooke grabs her towel and stands up.
They stand really close now and when she starts leaning in, he does too. They share a kiss, it is shallow and quick, a peck rather.
"Is this how you give feedback to every trainee?" She asks.
"Only when the Widow kicks their ass so bad," he smirks.
"All the time, then?"
"I believe in a personal approach."
"And I thought I was special."
Sam tilts his head to the side and looks at Brooke in a way that makes a shiver run down her spine. She shoves him by his chest and shakes her head to herself before leaving the training room.
Sam Wilson was a playboy, she decides.
And damn sure that Brooke Marlow is here to do her job.
