They lingered over dessert and coffee, their knees bumping under the table as they chatted amiably about everything and absolutely nothing of great importance. Just taking the time to see if they could once again fall into the same groove as before or if they would need to wear down a new one. Bucky had picked this particular place out ages ago, but circumstances and life had intervened and he'd never made the time to ask Ni to join him on that owed debt of her assistance with getting a job. Granted, in the end, it had been sheer luck and happenstance that had gained him the official employment, but her help with his resumes had garnered him over a dozen other job offers, some of which he had seriously considered, but for now the current one still satisfied the majority of his needs.
Yes, private security would probably pay better, much better based on the offers he had received, not that Urban Refurb paid poorly, they paid quite well in fact even for part-time. No, it had far more to do with the type of work, than any paycheck. Security would lean into the whole Winter Soldier theme, and he desperately wanted to separate his current life from that rather unsavory part of his past.
Not deny it. No. But if he wanted to change, really change, he needed to not do more of the same, potential wetwork, he'd already spent decades doing even if unwilling and to a degree unknowing.
He sighed softly and smiled at her.
"What?" she asked as she set the spoon down on the edge of the plate.
"Nothing," he replied with a small shake of his head. How could he possibly explain how grateful he was for the things she had done for him with no expectation of any reciprocation? Okay, yes, he had volunteered to train her and set up that security system, but she had-
He suddenly realized there'd been a lot of give and take in their relationship, with neither of them expecting the other to repay a debt of any kind.
"It's not nothing, based on the wrinkle between your brows," she observed then sipped at the fancy coffee she'd ordered.
He forced the muscles of his face to relax. "Just realizing my life has changed quite a bit in the last few months, in no small part, thanks to you."
She gave him an eyebrow raise. "I could say the same. Never expected to be the tech guru to a couple of superheroes."
"I'm not surprised," he scoffed, "given your saving of the city grid during the Blip."
"All I did was write a program. Modify one, technically, but I did actually write all of it at some point. Anyone with my skill set could have done the exact same thing."
"True," he agreed, "but you were the one who did it. That means something."
This time her cheeks reddened and she ducked her head, clearly embarrassed at his honest praise of her contribution. "I did what was needed, that's all."
"Exactly."
"You do the same, you know. And not just when you're off with Sam."
He shrugged. "I don't know if the world needs my kind of hero, but if there's the slightest chance I can help make the world a better place, then I guess I'll keep doing it. Even if it's just getting Mrs. Sanchez's cat out of that damn tree again."
Nienna chuckled softly. She'd been present the third time the cat had escaped the older woman's apartment to climb the big old tree outside chasing after a squirrel only to realize it had no clue how to get back down. The cat was a mean thing but didn't have teeth or claws tough enough to damage vibranium. So Bucky had become the default rescuer.
"You do realize there's a fair chance she lets the cat escape just so she can watch you rescue it, right?"
Bucky grunted softly, not overly surprised at the revelation. "She's ninety, I doubt she's got any reason to be ogling me."
"She's got every reason," Ni argued, giving him one of those long up-and-down gazes that damn near caused him to blush there was so much heat in it. "Besides, she's closer to your age than I am."
He snorted. "I supposed that is indeed true. Jealous?"
She shook her head. "No. If you're content with the age difference then so am I. I know physically you're much younger, but I also know your mindset is," she paused as if taking a moment to choose her words with care, "not as modern as mine? Not a complaint," she assured him. "You do not come across as an old man, but-"
"Sometimes I come across as old-fashioned?" he suggested, knowing it to be true. "My first date after the Blip, I brought her flowers. It was what you did when I was younger, but she found it exactly that - old-fashioned."
"For the record, I will never snub a bouquet of flowers, though I'd prefer live, since I could add them to the greenhouse." She reached out and set a hand on his forearm. "I promise you, your old-fashioned-itis has never bothered me. In fact, it has been a breath of fresh air. I like you just the way you are Bucky. Do not change for me or anyone else. Understand?"
He nodded slowly, actually believing her. He set his left hand atop hers and squeezed gently, causing her to smile at him.
She'd been extremely tactile all evening. Small casual touches, his hand, his arm, his back. Hell, the server had tried to seat them across from one another, but Ni had shifted to sit kitty-corner so that he would be within easy reach. Every brush of her fingers, or bump of her knee designed to reassure him that she had indeed agreed to be here. With him. Now. And had no intention to leave anytime in the near future.
And he was unconscionably grateful for it.
Even with Sam assuring him that all would be well, Bucky had seriously doubted that Nienna would ever speak to him again.
He swallowed with some difficulty, realizing that he wanted to take her home and spend the night. Fuck, no, spend every night. That sudden unexpected need of her warring with his outright terror of hurting her again.
Or worse.
Killing her.
And he could not permit that to happen.
He tried to speak, had to clear his throat, then said, "Nienna-"
"Don't," she interrupted.
He blinked, caught off guard. "Don't what?"
"Ask me to go home with you, because I will say yes, and it would make our discussion at the Daily Grind a complete waste of time."
She didn't sound angry or upset. If anything she sounded just a touch desperate to not encourage either of them to jump right back into the deep end of their relationship, not when he remained unsettled and unsure of his ability to control his strength around her. Regardless of her absolute trust in him doing so.
He closed his eyes for a long moment; until he felt her hand gently squeeze his forearm. "But you want to?" he asked, voice hushed and with only what he deemed a slight quaver in it
"Oh hell yes," she responded in a breathless whisper. "Don't you dare think otherwise."
His eyes snapped open to focus on her. "So, tomorrow night then?"
She snickered, the tension not easing so much as shifted to something lighter between them. "We'll see. Maybe... maybe dinner at my place?" she suggested tentatively. "My ulterior motive being I need to pick your brain for Iris input."
Bucky's sudden wash of excitement dimmed only slightly at her admission of it being a work-related invite. "Depends, are you cooking?"
She nodded.
"And will there be movies after you pick my brain?"
She grinned. "There can be."
Movies, nerd movies to be specific, had been a big part of what had brought them together in the first place, so it seemed like a perfect compromise for seeing if they could really make this work for the long haul. "Then it's a date."
"Wow, two dates in a row. Just like grown-ups."
"I plan on there being a lot more," he told her, voice low and rough.
Her eyes went wide for an instant, pupils obviously dilating in the lighting of the restaurant. "Good."
He lifted her hand from his arm and kissed her fingers. "How about I walk you home then."
"I would like that."
. . . . .
Within half a block he regretted the decision to walk to the restaurant. Oh, not that it had been an excessively long distance to get there, not at all, even with the temperatures dipping toward the forties this late in the month. Halloween was literally just a few days away, so the cool temps were far from surprising and both of them had dressed appropriately.
He had seriously considered, shoving his sole helmet atop her head and just taking her double on the motorcycle he'd driven to their meeting. He'd had some vague plan to drive as far away as possible, maybe even all the way to Delacroix when she had inevitably turned him down.
Yes, he'd had some measure of hope thanks to Sam, but Bucky had still found it hard to believe that she could forgive his transgressions so easily.
But she had, and so he'd chosen to walk, to be by her side, shoulders, and arms bumping together as they strolled the more than manageable distance for their first official date.
Someone at the restaurant must have recognized them and posted it online somewhere as paparazzi swarmed them. Most kept a reasonable distance, taking photos with high-powered lenses from across the street, but others... Others came far too close for comfort, though none actually impeded the couple's forward progress.
Nienna lowered her head and continued forward, doing her best to ignore them. Bucky reached over and grasped her hand in his, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. He did not like this at all, but knew this would be part of their lives going forward should they continue down this particular path together.
A few pulled out digital recorders and began barking questions in addition to taking photos. The whir of motors as dozens of pictures were captured in mere seconds, making Bucky wish they were indeed back in the nineteen forties without the advancement of digital cameras.
"Ni," Bucky asked under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear, wanting to be certain she was all right. He could easily get away from them, hell he could probably scoop her up and carry her off into the night and not a single one of them would be able to keep up.
Unless they had a car.
"I'm good. Just keep your head down and don't answer. They'll just take any responses out of context anyway."
As she had dealt with this before he deferred to her advice, pulling her in closer and wrapping an arm around her back. He shot glares at those who got a touch to close, and they took it as the threat it was meant as.
Another block and Bucky realized he would just lead them straight to her apartment if they kept on this route and while her business location was probably public knowledge, he really doubted she would want them staking out her place day and night in hopes of catching a glimpse of the two of them together.
Coming to a quick decision he turned at the next corner, to make their way back to the
Daily Grind which should be open for another hour and hopefully discourage the paparazzi from following them inside. If he asked really nicely the closing manager might let them sneak out the back door to escape them and then they could head back to her place.
A man wearing a press card visibly on a lanyard about his neck stepped directly out in front of Bucky, recorder stuck out in front of his face, causing him to stop suddenly in an effort to not crash into him. "What the hell," Bucky groused, ignoring the questions being asked as he attempted to shift both himself and Nienna around him.
Instead, he felt Nienna jerked physically away from his hold.
He spun about to see another man dressed nearly identical to the one before them, down to the press lanyard, wrap an arm around Ni's waist, and make a valiant attempt to lift her off her feet. Nienna, however, had learned well the lessons Bucky had taught her at the gym. Her right elbow lifted up and back forcefully connecting with the man's nose with an audible crunch that was a sure sign she'd broken it, blood instantly appearing and causing him to loosen his hold enough for her to scramble away.
He swore both creatively and viciously, clearly far more angry than upset his nose had been smashed in. He reached behind his back, lifting the edge of his jacket up and, his bloodied hand coming around with a weapon.
"Knife," Bucky warned.
At the same moment, Ni's eyes went wide and she barked, "Gun."
Bucky had barely begun to turn about to face the newest threat when he heard the ominous pop of the weapon being fired, quickly followed by the distinctive sound of a bullet whizzing by. If he had been the intended target it had missed. Bucky completed his turn, took two quick steps forward, and grasped the man's wrist, twisting it until it snapped and the gun clattered to the ground.
Behind him, Nienna grunted. He kept his hand wrapped about the broken wrist of the shooter and turned to see her shockingly pale face under the streetlights and sudden silence enveloping the street about them. The knife now lay on the ground, the former owner of it not far away as Nienna had clearly gotten in a punch or two that had put him down mere seconds after the appearance of the knife.
Her right hand went towards her left shoulder. Make that upper chest, above the lung and heart, just below her collarbone where a neat hole had appeared in her jacket. She touched the spot gingerly, pulled her hand away staring in confusion at the blood now coating her fingers. "Bucky?" she questioned, utter disbelief in her voice.
Then she sat down on the sidewalk hard, her legs deciding in an instant to no longer keep her upright.
Bucky would swear later that his sight bled over to red, the anger rose so quickly. He took all of a heartbeat to verify that she lived then turned his ire on the utter piece of shit that had shot her.
Bucky wrapped his left hand around the man's throat and lifted him into the air as if the two-hundred-pound hulk weighed nothing.
He said nothing as the man raised both hands to claw at the vibranium in a vain effort to gain his freedom, his face slowly turning redder and redder as the lack of air and the pressure on both carotid and jugular impeded the flow of blood to his brain.
A whimper of pain from behind him and then Nienna stood next to Bucky, her right hand coming up to rest on his forearm, fingers leaving a smear of blood on his jacket. "Bucky, don't."
"He hurt you," Bucky snarled, his voice deep and dangerous, and raw.
"But I'll live." She shifted so that he could see her face. "You don't do this anymore, remember? And if you were going to it shouldn't be because of me."
He flicked his eyes to meet hers, the struggles of the man in his hold beginning to noticeably weaken. "Yes, for you," he argued, knowing the truth behind his words. If ever there could be a reason to return to his killing past for her would be the one. If it kept her safe and in his life, then yes, he would kill and make clear to all that might even think of hurting her to be aware of the deadly consequences of that action.
"Then not today. Please," she asked of him, voice soft so that only he would hear. "The world is watching."
The rest of the paparazzi that had initially backed off at the shout of 'gun' when the attack had begun, but had not yet left, returned, cameras and recorders still going to capture every moment for the potential of selling it to the highest bidder. And on top of that several passersby had stopped at the commotion and had their phones out, recording the events for posterity.
"Besides, we can't find out who he works for if he's dead," she reminded, her tone dark and full of justifiable anger.
"Fine," Bucky agreed and simply let the man go. He crumpled to the ground not even attempting to catch himself and screaming hoarsely when he landed on his already broken wrist.
Bucky turned his focus on Nienna who unexpectedly swayed, eyes drifting shut.
"Fuck," Bucky muttered, gently curving his hands about her upper arms to steady her. "Come on, you." He encouraged her to sit on the curb, him taking on more of her weight than he liked as her legs attempted to buckle halfway to the ground.
He squatted before her, the hand on her right shoulder making certain she stayed upright. Her eyes focused on his so he didn't think she was about to pass out, but you never knew. He gave her a quick once over, hand skimming across her back to find the jacket undamaged.
He gently moved the bloodied clothes to examine the entrance wound. A nice neat hole, not overly large. He glanced over at the gun on the ground, noting it appeared to be a smaller than average caliber, maybe a .25, which was odd. At such close range even a .38 caliber could easily be deadly and Nienna had only been a few feet away.
She bled steadily, but not a worrisome amount provided she could get treatment in the near future.
Sirens could be heard in the distance, which meant someone had called it in, saving Bucky the effort of having to do so.
"Bullet is still in there, doll."
"Yay, a souvenir," she managed, voice dry as dust and twice as strained. "Is," she swallowed with some effort, "is it bad?"
"In my extremely non expert opinion? No. But you are going to have to go to the hospital to have it removed."
She went noticeably paler under the orange toned street light. "Bucky… I don't want to. You helped me with the knife wound can't you…"
He shook his head. "Doll, while I appreciate your faith in my first aid skills, I am not a surgeon. Yes, I could probably go digging in there and get the bullet out, but if I hit an artery or something–" He frowned, not even wanting to think about fucking up that badly. "This one is above my skill level and I don't want to risk it."
She frowned but nodded. "Will… will you go to the hospital with me?" she asked meekly, as if it would be an imposition of the greatest kind.
"What? Do you think I'm going to let you out of my sight longer than absolutely necessary? I will be there." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "One day you will need to tell me exactly why you don't like hospitals." He pulled back and searched her eyes, which had gone wide.
"Not today. I… That's a tale that requires alcohol and comfort food, okay?" She reached up with her right hand as if she intended to run her fingers along his chin, but stopped inches away when she noticed they were covered in blood and just stared at them instead.
"Whenever you're ready," he assured her. "I need to put pressure on the wound and it's going to hurt."
She nodded and bravely held in the scream of pain when he pressed on her upper chest in an effort to keep yet more of her blood from leaking out. She tipped her head forward to rest against his shoulder, her breathing harsh as she did her best to let the pain wash across her without giving in to it.
"Just try to stay conscious and let me hold you up until the EMTs get here."
The police arrived just then assessing the situation and calling for emergency services to send at least two ambulances for transport.
Neither of the attackers had fled, the paparazzi and locals who happened to be nearby had made certain of that, both the knife and the gun still lying on the ground where they had fallen. Instead of the usual not my problem attitude most New Yorkers lived by, many now offered up their recordings as evidence.
Yes, some would not shed Bucky in the best light, but he hoped his actions would be seen more as self-defense rather than an attack.
One of the officers came over with a first aid kit, pulling out some pressure bandages and offering them to Bucky who made use of them, the blood on his hands, Ni's blood, smearing the visible side and making him realize how weirdly violent their relationship had been, with little to none of it being his fault.
They each gave quick statements to the officers who quickly cordoned off the scene and got restraints on each of the attackers, both of whom would also be heading to the hospital thanks to his and Ni's defensive skills. The officers after seeing several videos and pictures of the incident were quick to assure Bucky that neither he nor Ni were in any trouble, but that a detailed report would need to be filed once she had been cleared and stabilized at the hospital.
The EMTs finally arrived and Bucky turned over Nienna's care to them, but never strayed more than a few feet away. Local news trucks, including one for the Bugle began to arrive, but were thankfully kept back by the police. No, a shooting in New York was anything from uncommon, but having the paparazzi directly involved added an unusual twist that clearly had made it of interest to someone.
Bucky had learned to handle himself around reporters, but this time he simply didn't want to. He just wanted Nienna to be okay and get her home safe and sound if sore.
It was past time he'd gone digging into why these attacks against her kept happening. Because if nothing else he was certain she had been the target and it had nothing to do with him. He had his suspicions based on the few things she'd let drop about her past, especially those involving tha think tank and the project she'd been working on.
He stood nearby as they got her loaded onto a gurney, her arm bandaged up and immobilized as a precaution and moved closer as they rolled her towards the back of the ambulance.
"Sir, we'll be taking her to Langone, you can meet us there."
Ni proceeded to object loudly. "No. He rides with me or I won't be going." She then proceeded to work on undoing the straps holding her down one-handed and shift in a valiant effort to get off the gurney.
"Ma'am," the younger EMT squawked, "please lie back down."
She shot him a glare that damn near made Bucky shiver at the violence in it. She meant it. She would rather leave the fucking bullet in there than go to any hospital without him.
"Ma'am." the EMT sighed heavily. "Fine. Will you lie back down now." She continued the glare, clearly not believing the quick acquiescence. "Please. We need to get you in first then he can join us."
Ni looked to Bucky who gave her a nod of encouragement. "It'll be fine, doll. I'll even hold your hand the whole ride."
She narrowed her eyes at him, but settled back into the gurney, permitting the EMTs to readjust the straps to secure her. They proceeded to push the gurney into the back of the ambulance, locked it in place then waved Bucky inside, directing him to a particular seat where he could be near Ni.
"Sir, if there are any issues en route–"
"I'll try to be small and let you do your jobs," he finished for them. "But that should not be an issue, right?"
The one seated in back with them shook his head. "From what I can see, no. You're doing fine, ma'am. Just keep that arm still and we'll get you to the hospital in just a few minutes."
Based on what Bucky could see, the assurances did nothing to ease Nienna's tension.
She really did not want to go to the hospital and it made him second guess his insistence on doing so. No, he was no surgeon, but he'd done basic first aid and not so basic triage bordering on emergency surgery during the war. Yeah he and Steve may have been a lot harder to kill, but the other Howling Commandos were decidedly mortal, if totally insane. He'd pulled bullets and shrapnel out of any number of soldiers during those harrowing years. And they'd all survived. In that moment anyway.
Bucky shifted and leaned forward, setting a hand on her thigh. He could easily feel the tension in her muscles. "Doll."
It took a moment but she lifted her head and faced him, her eyes wide, the whites easily visible telling him more than any words ever could. She opened her mouth as if to respond but nothing came out, her fear, terror locking the words inside.
"If this is how all our dates are going to end I might have to reconsider any future plans," he said, tone so bland it verged on bored.
Ni gaped at him, jaw literally dropping open, eyes narrowing and losing that terror-stricken look that had been growing deeper by the moment. It took her a second to process then she smacked him in the chest with the back of her right hand and snorted in amusement.
Which she regretted instantly, wincing at the pain that shot through her shoulder.
Bucky grinned at her. "I mean, at least you've kept it interesting. Bombs, knife fights, ninjas, and now getting shot. I get that I'm a real catch but you didn't need to go through all of this trouble just to get my attention."
The EMT monitoring Ni's vitals shot a look at the both of them that was part confusion, part utter surprise and maybe a dash of just plain being impressed.
She laughed this time, the tension noticeably easing in the muscles under his hand.
"Well, I had to keep your attention somehow as I am just an ordinary human after all."
Bucky leaned in. "You always have my attention, doll." He permitted the need for her slither into his words, causing heat to slip down low and make him wish that instead of offering to walk her home he'd invited her back to his place. It might not have created a different outcome, but he also might just have called an Uber to get them there faster.
She swallowed with obvious difficulty, clearly understanding the real meaning behind his simple statement. "That feeling is mutual, Bucky," she responded in such a soft voice he was reasonably certain that only he could hear her.
"Good," he replied. "You'll get through this and be home in no time."
"And if I'm not?"
He hated that her voice trembled on the words, her fears bubbling right back to the surface.
"You don't have a choice, Nienna," he informed her, matter of fact and his tone brooking no argument from her this time.
She frowned slightly, but didn't say a word, which made him wonder exactly what she thought she knew. Still, the situation was about to out of both their hands as the ambulance made a turn and the sirens died, which meant they had arrived at their destination.
Bucky did his best to not hinder the techs as they got the gurney out of the back and rolled it into the emergency entrance detailing to the waiting staff Ni's vitals and injuries. The hospital staff took over asking Nienna questions to gauge how any potential complications could affect their decisions while Bucky trailed along, never more than a couple of feet away. As they rolled the gurney into the triage area one of the nurses stopped and turned to Bucky.
"Sir, you'll have to remain out here. I promise we'll take good care of her."
Nienna didn't just twitch but shifted as if intending to get off the damn rolling gurney and make her escape. Her head whipped about and she looked at him with desperation in her eyes.
"I thought family could come in," Bucky tried, hoping he sounded convincing, but based on the narrowing of the woman's eyes he'd missed the mark more than a bit.
"And exactly how might you be related to Miss Grace?"
Without missing a beat Bucky answered, "I'm her fiance."
One eyebrow quirked up on Nienna's brow but she didn't disagree. In fact when the nurse turned to her for confirmation she nodded. Her look of sincerity was clearly far more believable than his own.
But it worked. The nurse stopped blocking his path and even made certain he had a chair that he scooted right next to her bed once they'd completed the initial evaluation of her condition. They'd started an IV, placed all sorts of sensors on her to keep track of her vitals and while her heart rate and blood pressure were high, they'd been assured it was well within the norms considering the injury. An order for an ultrasound had been placed to locate the bullet and see how much trouble it would present to remove it.
. . .
Ni had been offered pain meds, but she'd refused stating she'd dealt with much worse pain before and promised that she would let them know if she changed her mind.
Then they were left alone.
Ni's single eyebrow rose again as she formed a question made of a single word. "Fiance?"
"Yep," Bucky assured her, "you really are stuck with me now."
She laughed softly, doing her best to not jostle her arm. The bandages had been changed, the wound examined with no new or obvious concerns being discovered. She was pale, but again that was to be expected. Gunshot wounds hurt, which Bucky could attest to, but he couldn't help but admire her resilience. She could have gone the weepy and wailing route, which would have been fully justified, and instead she had stood her ground and talked him down from what could have been a serious error on his part, and not just because it would have made the nightly news.
God, the strength in her amazed him. And it was all more impressive because she was an, as she had so recently observed, ordinary human.
"Nienna–"
She shook her head. "Not now, Bucky. Get me through this moment then we'll talk about all those that will come later."
He might have been a neanderthal type male but even he could catch onto the fact that there was something of importance behind that request. Almost as if she feared to make any future plans, be they near or far. And he got the distinct impression that if he asked her about it she would demure and expertly change the subject. So, he did what he had resisted doing during their months together and tabled that particular discussion for later.
A low buzz of concern ran through him, a tension that made him itch with the need to scratch it, to make it go away, to fix it now instead of waiting on the vagaries of life to intervene and run roughshod over their lives and where they intersected.
He shifted closer and gently wrapped his hand about her right one being mindful of the IV and assorted wires, lifted it and kissed her knuckles.
"I guess this means you won't be cooking dinner tomorrow night, huh?"
She shot him a look that made it abundantly clear she thought he'd turned a beautiful shade of insane. "I doubt I'll be home for that," she said with a deep frown.
He shrugged. "You never know, they might be able to remove it here and not have to involve an OR. Think positive, doll."
"I'm positive I don't want to be here," she grumbled under her breath knowing damn well he would still hear her.
"I know, Ni, and if there had been another option, a real one," he interjected quickly before she could come up with a plausible argument, "we would be utilizing it instead."
She sighed, eyes closing and head tipping back into the thin pillow and sorry excuse for a mattress. "I'm sorry for being such a whiny bitch, Bucky."
He blinked. "If this is what you consider being, as you put it, a whiny bitch, please continue, every man on the planet will be extremely envious."
She gave him an incredulous look but didn't comment.
"Ni, I realize I have very little real world experience with relationships but even I know this," he gestured in her direction, "is an unusual situation." He smiled slightly thinking over the last few months. "Though not for us apparently."
She failed utterly to return the amusement.
"I would not be here if I didn't want to be. Yes, I have some reservations about doing this, but they have nothing to do with you. I haven't had a whole lot of time to adjust to being… me."
"Bucky-"
He shook his head. "You have given me the opportunity to figure out who I want to be without any expectations. I like that. Hell, I need that. Sam… well Sam can be a little too helpful on occasion. He and I have very different views on some topics and while I can sometimes see his point, I don't necessarily agree with it." Bucky sighed softly, his thumb rubbing softly along the side of her hand. "I'm not Steve Rogers, and I think sometimes that Sam forgets that."
Sam was damn good at fixing things. Bucky… Bucky, in truth, was much better at breaking them. He'd done his best to make what reparations he could for the acts he'd committed at The Winter Soldier, but he'd been a killer long before he'd been brainwashed and used as an assassination tool.
It might have been a trite statement, but war does indeed change a person. He'd done plenty of fighting, street or otherwise before being drafted, but killing had come damn easily to him and what few qualms he'd had at the beginning had long since been worn away under the pile of bodies he'd left in his wake.
He truly doubted he could change that part of himself at this point, so he needed to learn to live with it and part of that meant surrounding himself with those who would not look askance at him when the inevitable happened.
Nienna had prevented him from killing her shooter earlier, but not because she feared his ability to kill so easily, but because it would have done more harm than good to him. To Bucky.
She didn't admonish him for doing what, sadly, came naturally, she simply helped him keep the level of violence in check and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Before Bucky could try to put all the thoughts and emotions running through him into some sort of semi-coherent statement the nurse came back in along with a tech and what was clearly a portable ultrasound machine.
"All right, Miss Grace, we're going to take a look at where that bullet is, then the doctor will make a decision if we can do a simple extraction with a local or if we need to get you into surgery." The nurse glanced over Ni's vitals, made some notations on the chart, then set the tablet aside and began removing the bandages since the ultrasound required contact with the skin.
Bucky released her hand and slid the chair back a bit to give the hospital staff room to work. Ni was offered some painkillers again and warned that the pressure from the wand, while not extreme, would still cause some discomfort. Nienna, in a move that surprised no one, she refused.
Bucky simply gave her his hand to abuse if she felt the need to react to the pain, but she never even flinched while the tech slid the wand through the gel and located the bullet buried in her flesh, which turned out to be mostly intact. There did appear to be two small fragments that had broken off during the short distance the projectile had traveled within her. Which inevitably nixed the easy removal option, much to Nienna's dismay.
"Hey," she began as the nurse replaced the bandages.
"Yes, Miss Grace?"
"Is there any chance I can keep the bullet after it's removed?"
The nurse did not seem overly fazed by this request. "That can be arranged. I will have to check with the police to make certain they do not need it as evidence, but other than that it shouldn't be a problem."
The nurse hung a smaller bag on the IV rack explaining that it was a broad spectrum antibiotic as a precaution.
Which made sense.
Then they were told the OR was being readied and the surgeon would be by shortly to go over the plan and that she should be heading in within the hour.
Bucky could see the fear come back to life in Nienna's eyes, but she reined it in until they had been left alone again.
When she finally spoke her voice trembled. "Tell me everything is going to be okay."
"Do you want me to lie or sound like I believe it?"
She smiled wanly. "Whichever one you think I'll believe."
"I don't think god could make you believe anything right now," Bucky pointed out and not incorrectly. She wanted no part of this necessary surgery. He knew with a definitive certainty that if he offered to take her home and remove the bullet himself she would instantly agree. So no matter how badly part of him wanted to do nothing more than scoop her up into his arms and carry her away, he said nothing. He needed to trust in the experts as much if not more than her. She would be in far safer hands with an actual trained surgeon and his team than she could ever be with Bucky.
It didn't matter that she trusted him far, far more than the professional strangers who were about to cut her open and if not save her life, at least make it more comfortable in the long run by doing the job right the first time.
Bucky leaned in close, his cheek brushing alongside hers. "Nienna, I believe this is your best chance to come out of this whole. And I swear I will be there when you come out the other side. Even if I have to force my way into the recovery room. I will be there when you wake up."
She shuddered but didn't speak, possibly too overcome with emotion at the vehemence in his softly spoken words. The fact that he meant the words no longer shocked him. He no longer knew precisely what lengths he would go to for her.
Wilson had though. Fucking Sam had seen what Bucky had been blind to, that Nienna had become part of his life regardless of whether or not she should be.
He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and then settled back into the chair, one hand wrapped about hers, returning that contact she'd been so generous with earlier at the restaurant.
He had no idea if it helped, but he suspected it wouldn't hurt.
. . .
Bucky had wrapped the chain about his hand, the amber-filled honeycomb swinging gently as he waited with a strained patience for news.
They'd been wheeling her out of the ER when she suddenly sat up, much to everyone's dismay and called Bucky over. Her right hand at her throat trying to rotate the necklace and open the clasp one-handed.
"Doll, it can wait," Bucky insisted when the exasperated nurse glanced over at him pleading for his assistance with her eyes only as if Ni had been the worst patient ever. While Ni had indeed made it plain that surgery while under full anesthesia was the last thing she wanted, she had finally agreed to it, when it had become clear that not a single surgeon would perform the task with her conscious.
"No," she argued. "I don't want to risk losing it."
Bucky looked to the nurse, who shrugged. "It happens."
"Okay then. Here let me." He undid the clasp and carefully removed the delicate piece of jewelry. He hadn't even realized she'd been wearing it and the surge of emotion that rushed through him nearly took his breath away. "Anything else, doll?"
"Oh fuck. I am a total idiot. Can you call my dad? I don't want him to hear about this on the evening news." She waved for the clear bag of belongings at the end of her bed. Then she twisted her head up to confirm with the nurse who'd been in charge of her the last couple of hours. "That's okay, yes? He can hold onto my stuff? The important bits anyway."
"Of course," the nurse answered.
Which is how Bucky found himself in possession of not only the necklace, but Ni's cell phone and messenger bag, which apparently held her tablet and some paperwork important enough that she did not want to leave it lying around for anyone to potentially see. She'd not only unlocked the phone, but disabled the password so he could access her contacts and call her father.
She'd kept apologizing and calling herself an idiot for not thinking to call her family until the last possible moment. Bucky had pointed out that he hadn't either as they'd both been a bit distracted by other things.
Those necessities dealt with, he'd kissed her on the cheek and stood in the middle of the hall, holding her belongings, and wondering why deep in his bones he felt that this could be the last time he ever saw her.
He'd been escorted to the waiting area, shown where the coffee and snack machines were and left to his own devices.
He'd called her father, who had at first been more than a touch shocked, and the overprotective tone in his voice, at Bucky being at the other end of a call on his daughter's phone, but quickly sobered when Bucky explained what had happened.
They, as Ni's father had informed Bucky he would call various other family members as soon as their call had ended, would arrive as soon as feasible, but it would be at least a couple of hours as he had moved out of the city after the Blip.
Bucky had given her father his number so that they wouldn't have to communicate through Ni's phone and her dad immediately added him to a group chat that included all of Ni's siblings. He read every single one, and answered any questions directed at him, but otherwise simply watched the drama unfold.
The surgery itself would be fairly simple and straightforward according to the surgeon who'd stopped by and walked them through the plans. Ni had tried to talk him into using a local and the ultrasound to remove the bullet and the shrapnel, but he'd explained one of the larger pieces of shrapnel lay too close to a major artery and she would need to be fully sedated to guarantee a successful removal.
That fear had come back into her eyes and posture, both her heart rate and blood pressure spiking, but she had, with great reluctance, agreed.
One hour passed.
Then two.
Then halfway through the third the surgeon from earlier appeared in the doorway.
Bucky instantly knew something had gone horribly wrong.
If everything had gone well it would have been a nurse who would have appeared to bring him back to the recovery room, where he would have waited, holding her hand, until the drugs wore off and she opened her eyes.
Just as he had promised.
But it was the doctor. The surgeon who stood there with a look of sympathy plastered on his face.
Bucky got to his feet, his heart not following along and instead dropping down through the floor and beyond.
"Mr. Barnes?"
"Sergeant," Bucky corrected reflexively.
He could see the surgeon processing that, but he nodded. "Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry to inform you… there were unexpected complications during the removal and Miss Grace did not make it through the surgery."
Bucky's hearing had fuzzed out at the word "complications" , an odd and somewhat frightening numbness flowing through his entire body.
It reminded him of when they'd put him back into cryo, that arctic chill spreading through his body and deep into his bones as his reality was set on pause once again.
He hated that feeling.
Hated and feared it.
Bucky went eerily still, his instinct to lash out at the person causing his distress, held tight and controlled.
Nienna would not want him to hurt this stranger who had simply been doing his job.
And failed.
Let's not forget that part.
He had failed.
But so had Bucky.
That freezing numbness vanished in a rush as the reality of the situation settled into him making him feel in ways he'd been unable to for a long time.
The doctor said a few more things that Bucky processed as secondary information.
"Her father should be here within the hour," Bucky told him in response to a question that he wasn't completely sure required that information.
He didn't care.
"Mr. Barnes–"
"Sergeant," Bucky growled, his voice nothing but a deep rumble of anger and pain.
The doctor stiffened.
A nurse hustled over with a clipboard. "Sergeant Barnes, if you would come with me, please."
Bucky turned his surely violent gaze upon her, but she was clearly made of far sterner stuff and didn't even flinch. "Why?"
She straightened, rolling her shoulders back and clutching the clipboard to her chest as if it were a shield. Her gaze, however, didn't waver, meeting his with true sympathy in them. "I have a private room you can wait in until her family arrives," she answered in a soft voice.
Some part of Bucky realized this would probably be a good idea. If only to protect those others in this waiting room from the truth that they too could be losing a loved one on this night.
Never mind the fact that it would also protect them from his inevitable reaction when the loss seeped in deep enough for him to actually feel.
He nodded, not trusting his voice and followed her down the hall to another room filled with overstuffed chairs and walls painted with calming colors, cool blues and greens reminding him of the waters of the Caribbean.
He started and deleted dozens of texts, wanting to prepare them, but simply couldn't deliver that gut punch to them via words on a screen. Couldn't be the one to tell them that the one member of their family that had survived the Snap and the Blip had been killed in what might have been nothing more than a random act of violence on the streets of New York.
So he sat.
And waited.
When her father and two of her sisters were escorted into the room he could only manage two words before emotionally shutting down.
"She's gone."