Chapter Text
Inhaling the nicotine and cold air into her lungs surprisingly refreshed her this calming nighttime outside. Her wine colored lips blew out a ring of grayest smoke, letting it linger before the door behind her opened, destroying her creation.
“You know those things could kill you, Val.” A masculine voice said, making her eye roll and straighten up off the balcony railing.
“A lot of things in this business could kill me, Thaddeus. These-” She waves the cigarette stuff between her gloved fingers. “Are the least of my worries.” He muttered something under his breath as she raised an eyebrow at him. “Problem?”
“We need to talk.” He replies, stuffing his bare hands into his suit pocket.
“I was waiting for you to say that.”
He sighs. “I’m serious.”
“Well, so am I.” She takes another inhale.
“Then you know what we need to talk about. The plan. You must know it’s-”
“Falling apart?”
“Yes.” He waved at the puff of smoke she blew in his direction. “Exactly.”
Valentina hums in disapproval. “I beg to differ.”
He clenches his jaw. “Yelena Belova. She failed in killing Clint Barton on Christmas Eve, and then disappeared for… what? Two months now?”
“The first part is true, the spies we had planted that night gave us enough evidence that she realized that I lied about how her sister died; However, you have nothing to worry about her disappearance. I know exactly where she is at all times.”
“So you know where a Black Widow is and you’re not even going to reach out to her?” He asked, confused yet skeptical. He could never wrap his head around this woman sometimes.
“She’s not needed yet, so for your information the plan’s still sailing smoothly, despite that little hiccup.” Val said, finally dropping the poisonous stick and putting it out with her heel. “So lighten up, Thaddeus.”
“Valentina, our numbers are down. We still don’t even know where Wilson Fisk is. Maya Lopez disappeared too. The only person we really have in our grasp that’s not dead, vanished or in prison is that John Walker fellow you recruited.” Ross points out, watching her lean against the railing again, listening. “All you’ve been doing to him is sending him on errands.”
“The thing about Walker is that I can’t throw him in the spotlight just yet.”
“It’s been almost a year since he killed that Flagsmasher, Val.”
“Yes-” She nods slowly. “But he believes he’s destined to be a hero, so until I can give him a good reason why I should send him to kill one of the Avengers, he’s just a pawn I have on the back burner and nothing else.”
“Then if we aren’t going to use him to kill them off, we gotta use someone. ” He gestures to the open air on the last word, hoping that’ll get her to comply. “Even though most of them aren’t the original, we know that they’re going to get stronger eventually. Like Barton decided to pick up a partner during the incident.”
“I know what you mean, but who do you suggest? Like you mentioned before also, most of the people we want for our… ‘little team’ are in prison.”
“Then we can get them out if the right strings are pulled.” Ross replies, standing his ground. “Helmut Zemo-”
“The Baron is a good candidate, but after everything that Walker has told me I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to cross a line with Sergeant Barnes and Captain America. He seems to… respect them now.” Val explains, standing her own too.
“But with the right motivation against the right person we might be able to pursue him.”
“True.”
“Then there’s Emil Blonsky, the Abomination. He’d make a wonderful candidate to go against some of the stronger heroes.”
“He would, however-” She holds up one finger. “He’s being guarded by a literal sorcerer, that’s going to be tricky to time if we want to make it a prison break.”
“Point taken.” Ross crosses his arm, sighing once more. “We need to make moves, Val; Especially when most of them are at their lowest since there hasn’t been any major crime in months. At this point we could just send snipers to take some of them out because they’re so relaxed.”
“Is that just an excuse to take Bruce Banner out? I’m sure your daughter would love that.” Val teased, watching his jaw tighten like earlier.
He narrows his eyes. “We just need to get this team together. We need people in our corner to take out the Avengers one-by-one. We have people to match them, we just need to move our fucking asses and get them together. No more dragging our feet.”
“I know, I know.” She says, irritated. “We just need to do this without drawing attention from the outside. Can’t have HYDRA be outed just yet. We need to do this subtly.”
“I couldn’t agree more on that, but we need to start soon. We’ve got candidates we need to snag. Belova, Walker, Blonsky, Zemo, Ava Starr. We’ve got potential people to be the next Taskmaster. The list goes on.”
Val stopped to ponder on those names. All were really good in her mind. “That is a good list. But I still feel like we’re missing something.”
Ross shifts on his feet, scratching the stubbles on his chin. “Well… what about the Winter Soldier your people’s been working on for decades? I’ve seen the videos, they’ve got potential. Plus, you’ve finally managed to get the phrases engraved for control. It’s perfect.”
“Then who would you suggest we start with?” She asked, finally intrigued (Or maybe because this was his best idea tonight. She liked the sound of using her own creation for something this big).
He smirks a little. “Why don’t we take out the younger ones first? The ones we know that haven’t experienced a head-to-head match with a Winter Soldier yet. Like Kate Bishop or Peter Parker.”
Val chuckles darkly. “Sounds perfect. I’ll give my science team a call to start prepping the Soldat. ” She starts shuffling past him for the door, feeling his joyful eyes on her.
“You won’t regret this, Valentina.”
“I hope not, Because, just remember-” She looks over her shoulder, her serious look proving her next words. “I can make your death look natural.”
She ignored how he paled, which was certainly not from the cool weather and slipped back inside. Although she wasn’t practically set on this idea 100 percent, just because she didn’t want the program to go south like the last few did, she wouldn’t miss this opportunity to take a few threats off the board.
And she guesses that the soldier could use the chance to stretch its leg after being crammed in a cryo pod.
[‘Okay! How about… Arrowette?’]
“No.”
[‘Okay, then… what about Everdeen?’]
“Everdeen? Like in the Hunger Games?”
[‘Yeah, you know, she has a bow. She’s an archer.’]
A chuckle. “Yeah, I think that’s copyrighted.”
[‘Then help me out! It’s been months, I need a hero name, Clint.’]
The man heard a sigh on the other side of the phone.
[‘Are you sure Hawk Shot’s not a good one? I’m really leaning towards that one.’]
“What about Artemis?” He suggested, shifting in his seat on his sofa. Unknowingly to him he’s already been on the phone for over an hour on just this specific topic.
[‘Like the Greek Goddess? Isn’t that a bit cliche?’]
He raises an eyebrow he knows she can’t see, but she’ll know the face he’s making just by the tone of his voice. “You just asked for my help.”
[‘Yeah, but I need something more creative, Clint! Come on!’]
“Well then I’m out of ideas, Kate.” He said, earning another sigh.
[‘You’re no help.’]
He could hear her moving in her own seat.
[‘What are you doing now?’]
He smiles. “Just waiting for my kids to get home. They start spring break tomorrow.”
[‘Oh, sweet. Got any plans?]
“Nah, I think we’re just going to stay here this year.” He leaned his head back against the wall when he felt the pressure in his head from earlier this morning.
He hated getting these fucking headaches.
[‘That doesn’t sound bad to me. Your family always finds a way to have a good time, that’s for sure.’]
“Yeah, we sure do.” He smiles ‘cause she knows she’s referencing last Christmas day. It was one the best he’s ever had. “Speaking of a good time, did you get the gift I sent you yet?”
[‘No, not yet. I’ve been at work all day so I would get an alert if a postal worker was in my house. Sorry.’]
“I guess I’ll have to check in on that later.” He closes his eyes at the pain again. It was like someone was trying to drill a hole through his temples.
[‘So what exactly did you get me? Because you said that it reminded you of a good time. What exactly does that-’]
“Kate?”
[‘Yeah?’]
“You’re just going to have to wait.”
[‘Damnit…’]
He heard her almost whine something under her breath, and out of amusement he decided to add more salt to the wound.
“And Kate?” He heard her hum. “Aren’t you supposed to be going back to work?”
[‘Work? I don’t need to- Oh shit! Oh, I’ve been on a VERY long lunch break. I gotta go. I’ll still look out for the gift though! Bye, Clint!’]
“Bye.” He heard the line go dead on the other side and chuckled again. “Crazy, girl. She has more energy than that damn dog.”
He lays his phone down on his chest, closing his eyes again and slouching more into his spot. Maybe he could take a nap here before his children arrived. Or maybe he could make an excuse to opt out of movie night tonight. The idea of a dark room and staring at a giant screen might not be the best idea with his cracking skull.
“Are you still having a headache?” Laura asked, coming into the area with a steaming cup of tea.
“Yeah. They just won’t go away for some reason.” He admits, hearing the cup being placed on the coffee table. “Thanks.”
He cracked open his eyes half lid when he felt her crouching next to the couch. His wife definitely looked worried, hoping this wasn’t something that led to a much more serious issue.
“And when did these start again?” She asked, trying to put her basic medical skills to the test.
“About five days ago. They kind of come and go on and off. They usually start after I wake up in the morning.” He replies, truthfully. “I usually have a bizarre dream before that too.”
“And what’s the bizarre dream about?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t tell. It’s… all blurry. Nothing else. I know it’s a person though, that I can tell. But who? That’s the million dollar question.”
“Well, if they start getting worse then you need to go to a doctor. I want to make sure this isn’t linked to a serious issue.”
He smiles gently, offering his hand. “Don’t worry, honey, I’m sure it’ll pass. It could just be everything blooming in the air right now. But if it gets worse, I’ll go to the doctor.”
“Thank you.” She said, squeezing his palm. “Oh, and drink this.” She hands him the cup carefully. “It has caffeine in it. It should help kickstart the aspirin you took earlier.”
“Thanks.” He was about to take a sip when he remembered something. “Oh! Remind me to check Kate’s gift later, okay?”
“It hasn’t arrived yet?”
He shakes his head as finally drinks it.
It was also right on cue when the door opened to three children of various ages. They all shouted for their parents, casting their bags aside. The two oldest just greeted politely while the youngest nearly toppled Clint off the couch.
“Careful, Nate.” Laura warned, pushing her two boys back up.
The older man caught his breath, smiling. “Are you guys ready for spring break?” Clint asked, ruffling his son’s hair.
“Yeah!” They said, laughing.
Yes. It was going to be fun, despite it going to be long, loud, and crazy but that’s what the Barton’s were known for.
Meanwhile, ALL the way back in New York, Bucky Barnes wasn’t particularly having the best day. Or really… almost a week. Sure, it was going to get better later in the day, he was going to meet his friend coming from the airport for dinner and he would LIKE to enjoy it, But…
He.
Could.
Not.
Get.
These.
Headaches.
To.
Go.
Away.
It was like reliving the bombings he endured during the war. They were bashing his head like they were trying to turn his insides black and blue. It was nuts.
It was fucking annoying to put it in his own words.
They haven’t stopped since five days prior, and it all came with some freaky dream that he could quite understand. He swore he saw faces belonging to someone, but he didn’t know who (He wonders if there’s an app for something like this). So all Bucky really wanted was just to rest, close his eyes with a cool rag over his eyes until it was time for him to leave, but the universe wouldn’t even bless him with that.
He tried to ignore the first knock.
And the second.
The third.
And when the fourth turned into a complete ten set book series is when he finally had to get up off the floor. He groans, grabbing the rag off his face.
“Coming!” He calls out, irritatingly walking heavy (damn the person down below). The knocking continued as he tossed the towel on the kitchen counter. “Coming! Jeez…”
He unlocked both locks and pries it open, revealing an unfazed mailman. He practically shoved the clipboard in Bucky’s face.
“Sign here.” Was all he said, making the Sergeant confused.
He doesn’t remember ordering anything. “For what?” Bucky asked.
“A package, Sir. Please sign.”
Not wanting to argue because of his head, he quickly signed it and handed it back just before the clipboard was replaced by an extremely large, and heavy cardboard box. If he didn’t have enhanced strength, he would have toppled under the extreme weight. The mailman bid him good day, leaving Bucky stumped as his gaze wandered over the package. To his surprise, he saw a certain Archer’s name as the sender.
And somebody else's name just above his own address.
“Hey!” He shouts down the hallway. “Do I look like a Kate Bishop to you?”
The mailman chose to ignore as he slipped down the elevator, leaving Bucky completely stuck with something that wasn’t even his. So now he found himself staring at it again as it laid on the kitchen countertop, puzzled by what it is, and how it even got into his possession.
What did Barton even buy? He wonders as the wheels turn in his head.
He really wanted to lay down again, hopefully the headache would pass but it looks like he’s got a task to do first. For once, he was grateful that Sam stole his phone to put contacts in (he said something about them being ‘useful’). He knows it might be awkward, since the last time he even spoke to the Archer was briefly after the battle with Thanos, nothing more than a ‘welcome back’ and a brief hug. How was he even supposed to know what to say to make it… unawkward?
Here goes nothing. He tells himself with a sigh.
Five rings later is when he heard the phone pick up.
[‘Hello?’]
“Hey, uh… Barton? It’s Bucky.” He answers, rubbing his forehead with his metal fingers. The cold was helping with the throbbing.
[‘Bucky? Well this is a surprise.’]
He heard someone else asking who it was on the other side, and Clint gave them a quick response.
[‘Sorry about that. To what do I owe the pleasure, Barnes?’]
“Well I don’t mean to bother you but a package you sent came to my door, but it’s not for me. It’s for uh-” He pounding eyes looked at the name again. “A Kate Bishop.”
[‘What? They sent it there? How…?’]
Bucky heard him groaning with realization.
[‘Oh, this is the last time I ask my kids to do me a favor. They must have written the wrong address. Sorry about that.’]
“It’s fine, I guess I was a little surprised you have my address.” Bucky replies, looking at the clock. It was a little past four in the afternoon now. Great.
[‘I have everyone’s address, just in case. We are… kind of unofficial partners in a way.’]
“Yeah, I guess we are.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a split second, coming to a quick understanding that this headache isn't going away. He sighs quietly.
“ Actually, Barton, I’ve got a few hours to spare before I meet up with Sam for dinner. If you want I can take it to her? If she lives close by of course. If she doesn’t I can take it to the post office?”
[‘Really? That’ll be wonderful, and yes, she lives in the city. I’ll text you the address. Thanks. I owe you one, Barnes.’]
“Hey.” He begins, smirking sarcastically. “That’s what unofficial partners do.”
He heard him laugh.
[‘Ha, Ha. Very funny. Seriously, Thank you. I’ve been going crazy because that wasn’t delivered yet.’]
“Don’t mention it. Just send me the address.”
[‘Will do.’]
When the conversation ended, his shoulders just sagged and he let out another sigh.
Wait until I tell Sam this. He’ll accuse me of being a softie again. He could see Sam’s smug face while giving a hard time about it.
What an ass.
But it still made him smile, then frowned at another way of pounding.
And I just realized I forgot to ask who this person was. He thought, scratching the back of his neck, trying to relieve some built up tension there.
Maybe he really needs to consider getting a bed? Or at least a stiff pillow.
His phone chimed with the address from Clint, but he found himself in surprise again when he read where she lived.
This is like the rich part of town. He looks at the unopened package again, trying to picture what exactly it could be, but nothing comes to mind.
So what exactly did he buy for her?
Once again Bucky was grateful for the serum in his veins because this gift was fucking heavy. Especially when he had to do it by foot because he couldn’t take this by motorcycle (maybe he’ll still have time to swing back home and take it to the restaurant later. That place was kind of far).
He was greeted by a doorman who gave him directions for the elevator as he held the door open (another thing he was grateful for). It wasn’t long until he was inside her house.
“Wow. Not bad, Miss Bishop.” He mumbled, impressed.
But he wasn’t here to stargaze, just to deliver this damn thing and get out. He saw a small table standing in the middle and decided to place it there, being cautious of the flower vase already there.
“Alright. Hopefully that’s an okay spot.” He finds himself rolling his neck again, the pain moving from his temples to the back of his head now. He winced and closed his eyes. “And this damn headache is getting worse now. Fuck. I hope I can see when I drive.”
Then he heard it.
A bark.
He perks up and finds himself standing right next to a dog who was eyeing him carefully.
“A dog? I didn’t even hear you.” He mumbles realizing how bad this headache was. He makes a mental note to remind himself to be careful later in public.
He kneels before the golden colored dog, letting him sniff his flesh hand before petting him. Lucky seemed pleased as his tail started to wag like a propeller. It made Bucky’s heart warm up and smile.
“Good boy.” He said, getting a lick on his hand in return. “Good boy.” He chuckles. “I think I need a roommate like you.”
Lucky barked at that last comment.
A couple more pets and scratches before he gets up again. His eyes trailed to the free standing clock, the tiny hands reading that it was around five. Perfect. He still has time to go grab his bike (and maybe some more aspirin?).
“Keep an eye on the box for your owner, boy. Appreciate it.” He says, walking with a hand reaching for the elevator button-
A cold jolt went up his spine and he froze. He cocked his head back slightly, listening for anything off. It was pure silence minus Lucky’s tags bouncing off his fluffy chest.
Odd. He swore he felt something wrong.
Like someone was here with him.
“Miss Bishop?” He called out, turning around. Maybe she was home after all. This place looked like a maze anyway. “Miss Bishop?”
Still nothing, so he cautiously shrugged it off. Maybe he was just paranoid now because he didn’t even hear the dog (he’s gotta get rid of this headache before he meets Sam soon).
Okay… He finally pressed the button, the door sliding open just as the corner of his eye caught something near the ceiling. Tucked in a corner was a surveillance camera, and from what he could make out was a few wires exposed.
And cut.
Cut wires. So that means-
Lucky made a low growl next, and Bucky took another look behind him as the door to the empty elevator opened. He followed the dog's intense gaze to the room on the left, the feeling returning.
So someone is here. He frowns. Of course this would be happening.
Great. It’s always something. I just hope the dog listens to commands.
He snaps softly enough to get Lucky’s attention, and points to the elevator. “Come. Come on, Boy.” He said, just above a whisper. The dog perked up and ran inside. “Stay. I’ll be back.”
He presses the button again, watching the dog sit down in a spot as the door closes completely, the elevator summoned to go down. He clenches his jaw eyeing the room again. He takes a quiet deep breath before moving slowly. He was at a bit of a disadvantage here, being in someone else's home with no clue to what each room holds, he was going in blind. But he stayed as calm as he could, slithering inside just enough to-
Catch a knife.
He caught it by the handle just before it was embedded in his skull.
It was also enough time for Bucky to glance his blue eyes in the direction it came from, and of course someone was there.
Standing behind the couch and in between the two sets of french doors for the balcony stood a figure who, he would guess, around 5’4 dressed in an all black combat suit with a hoodie; A bulky mask with a silvery tint covering the bottom half of the face, and paired with goggles with the lens the shade of dark green.
Strange. This outfit reminded him of something, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
He shakes his head mentally. He had an underlining fight on hand at this moment he needed to worry about. He starts preparing himself for anything.
“I suppose you’re not Kate Bishop?” Bucky asked, studying closely. Was there anything on this person that could tell him who they were? Could he figure out their MO? Were they trying to scare him with the knife? Or was this person just going straight for the kill? What could it be?
He watched the figure tilt its head, and even though their body stood still like a statue, he could tell that they were confused. Was it his appearance? His left hand was showing. Or,
Were they here for someone else?
And then it hit him.
“Are you looking for Kate Bishop?” He asked, his voice low and almost threatening, just enough to maybe give them a push for an answer. However he got…
Nothing. Just dead silence like when he was listening to the house earlier. Should he make a break for it? Or just wait around until-
The figure pulled out a gun and fired. Bucky ducked and moved as they destroyed some vases and picture frames in his place. He stayed in a zigzag formation until the entire magazine was empty, which didn’t give him enough time to get up and be ready as they flung themselves over the couch at him. He met with an aggressive fighter, one that he was surprised enough to show a bit of fancy footwork too. Like-
When he attempted to punch he watched them drop down in a split before bolting right back up with a kick to the jaw. That stunned him enough for his attacker to pull out another knife for the kill.
And they’re coordinated too. Which was a bit of a struggle because they seemed to know some of his own moves too. Another odd thing he’ll have to check in on later once this is over.
The figure tried to stab him in the rib but Bucky stopped it with his hand as they fought for dominance, which didn’t last long for either of them (Or at least for Bucky because the other guy seemed three steps ahead of him). The figure flipped the knife into the other hand and aimed for his head.
He knocks it to the floor as his chest was met with their knee, even though wincing at how hard it was he never let go until he got them in a choke hold. He gives their neck a squeeze, one that would knock them out cold temporally, but they seem not to like that one bit.
Another hand gun was pulled out from somewhere, and they tried shooting him in the thigh, which resulted in him having to loosen his grip to save his own skin. He uses his left hand to aim the weapon at the couch, letting another magazine go completely out. He then yanks the figure by their upper torso, throwing them around, straight into an open window.
They grip the sides of the frame, stopping themselves from falling out of it as Bucky marched over and grabbed the front of their weapons harness.
“Who are you?” He demands, watching them stare in what he deemed confusion again. “Who are you here for? Me or the girl?”
The figure stared back, almost like it was thinking just before deciding to kick him square in the chest, and roll themselves backwards and out the window. Bucky’s eyes widened as he ran back out to peak only to find that the person was gone with the wind.
“What the fuck?” He mumbled in disbelief, because this was a ten story building after all. Could they teleport? Or were they just super quick?
His jumbling thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone shouting at him from behind. He turns around to find a brunette girl, earlier twenties, with Lucky tugging along. She was clenching an old looking bow with an arrow aiming at him, finger steady on the trigger.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?!” She asked, angry.
He holds his hands in defense. “I-I was just… delivering a package from Barton and I-” He pointed out the window. “Someone tried to kill me.”
Yeah, he was blunt. But what else was he supposed to say?
“What?” She said confused, stopping a few feet in front of him. Her brown eyes soon lit up with recognition. “Oh my god! You’re James Barnes! The original Captain America’s best friend!”
Bucky returns with a weird look. He’s never been introduced like that before. “Yeah… that’s me.”
“Oh, wow! Another Avenger! That’s so cool!” She smiles proudly, her bow now by her side. She nervously moved under his gaze. “S-So, what are you doing here?”
“Um, like I said, I came to return your package. Barton accidentally sent it to my place so he gave me your address to return it. I was going to leave until an…” He pauses to think about the correct word for whoever he just fought. He just stuck with, “Assassin came in and attacked me.”
She looks taken back. “What?” She finally takes a look around the destroyed room. “Oh my god. A-Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just don't know who-” He looks at the window. “Who they came for.” He sets his shoulders straight, tightening his belt. It was time for him to start the investigation process. “So, do you- uh… Miss Bishop, I’m assuming?”
She nods. “Yep.” Kate perks up in fangirl mode again. “You know my name?!” She deflates when she sees his weird look again. “Oh, it’s on the box, right?”
Bucky sighs. “Listen, kid, do you have any enemies? I need to figure out if that person was here for me or you.”
Kate frowns. “Well, if I’m going to have enemies it’s because of my mother, but she is in prison now, I don’t know if that would do much.” She replies, thinking. “However there is the sweatsuit mafia, but I think me and Clint dealt with the rest.”
“So… no clue?”
“No.”
“Great.” It was his turn to frown. “Then they probably are here for me. Shit.”
“Well, we could go to the police, I just wouldn’t have evidence though because it looks like my cameras were sabotaged, but we can still make it work! I mean, you’re an Avenger after all, they’ll probably listen to you.” She says, trying to look on the bright side. “Although, they might be already on there way because my neighbour’s probably heard all this, and-”
“Miss Bishop?” Bucky cuts in. He doesn’t mean to be so short with her, but her ramble was not helping the situation nor his throbbing head.
“Yeah?”
“You’re rambling isn't helping.”
She bows her head a little. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Barnes. I get carried away sometimes.”
“It’s fine, just…” He starts thinking again, which ends with him just heading for the first room. “Just call Barton and tell him what happened. Let’s see what he thinks. And it’s Bucky, by the way.”
“Oh. Okay! Then call me Kate!” She said, happily again. “But what about the police?”
“They’re on their way. I can hear sirens outside.” He replies, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Her eyes widened. “You can actually hear outside? That’s insane!”
“Kate. Barton.”
“Oh, yeah, right! Sorry!”
He heard her start dialing his number on her phone as he entered the dining room, pulling his own device out. It was a text from Sam, which read:
[Sam: Just landed. Still up for six-thirty?]
He frowns. He felt a bit guilty about what he had to text back.
[Bucky: Might need a rain check on that]
He watched as the speech bubble on the screen appeared, making him anxious about what Sam could say. I mean,
How was he going to explain this without making it sound made up? He could just tell the truth and say,
Hey, Barton sent me a package meant for someone else so I decided to be nice and deliver it, but when I got there there was an assassin waiting to kill me. So yeah, let’s postpone that dinner together!
Yeah, that sounds nice. He thought, and his phone buzzed.
[Sam: How come? What happened?]
He types up another response.
[Bucky: It’s a long story. Think you’ll believe me?]
“Bucky?” Kate called out, making him stuff his phone back into his pocket. She comes up from behind, holding her device out. “Clint wants to talk to you.”
He takes it in his hand, placing it gently against his ear. “Barton?”
[‘Barnes, Kate filled me in on what happened. You alright?’]
“I’m fine, just surprised. I wasn’t expecting something like that.” He replies, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.
[‘So who do you think it was?’]
“I don’t know.” He keeps replaying the scene in his mind, trying to figure out what was so familiar about that fight. “And I don’t know if they were after me, or Kate.”
[‘Do you need me to come out there? Or do you think this is something simple?’]
“Well I can tell you that the police aren’t going to be super helpful. If this is an assassination attempt because of who we are, then this is something we’re going to figure out on our own.”
He heard Clint sigh on the other side.
[‘I can start looking into it. Just stay safe. Make sure that Kate’s staying somewhere safe too.’]
“I will. I’ll keep in touch.”
And the lines went dead yet again.
After talking to police (which weren’t much help just like Bucky thought), he was on the phone texting as Kate started rambling in the background again.
“So what do we do? I’m I safe here? Or are you safe?” Kate asked, while petting Lucky’s head. She was sitting on the stairs as Bucky paced around in front of her. “W-Who exactly wants to eliminate me?”
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek before looking over his shoulder at her. “Kate.” He says, a bit irritated. His tone was enough for her to stop.
“Sorry, Bucky.” She replies, looking apologetic. “Who are you texting by the way?”
“Someone I was supposed to meet for dinner.” He said, truthfully before hiding his phone again. “Now-” He walks closer towards her. “Just in case our little friend decides to come for a visit again, do you have anywhere else safe enough to stay at?”
Kate ponders on that for a second, then shakes her head. “Not really. I have my own place but I’m getting it remodeled. It caught on fire a few months back. I’d suggest my Aunt’s home but she just moved out of the city.”
“You don’t have anywhere?” She shakes her head again. “Do you have a friend that can help you out?”
“I don’t have a lot of friends. I could go to Clint’s?”
Now it was his turn to shake his head. “No, he’s too far. Out of state, I know that.” He starts turning the wheels in his brain, trying to think of a proper solution. “Well, you could come back to my place? Although, I don’t have a bed or a couch for you to sleep on.”
Kate raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have a couch or bed?” She asked, genuinely concerned. “Where do you sleep? On the floor?”
“Okay, it’s more complicated than you think.” Bucky replies, defensively.
“Why don’t you just stay here for tonight if you’re so worried? I’ve got plenty of room.”
“I guess I could.” He starts thinking again while running his hand through his short hair. It wasn’t a bad idea, but it still held a tiny little flaw though. He sighs once more. “I would have to go back to my place to get a few things though, but I don’t want to leave you alone in case that assassin is really going after you and not me.”
So how should he do this? Drag her with her to his place and then back? Ask somebody to pick it all up for him? That seemed the most logical choice, but then again nobody had a key to his place (he was still a bit eerie about everyone seeing his nearly empty apartment). So what should he do?
Then, almost immediately after the mental battle against himself, a lightbulb went off as he fished out his phone for the millionth time today.
“I’ve got an idea.” Bucky says, facing the younger woman. “How about I have my friend come here to watch you while I go get my things?”
“Can your friend protect me in case I get attacked?” Kate asked, curiously and completely off guard for the change in his mood. He’s been grumpy the whole time and now he seems happy, making her want answers.
He almost smirks at the way he’s sealing the deal. “What if I told you he’s an Avenger?”
Her eyes widened with excitement as she popped to her feet. “Which one?”
(TBC)