The Heated Rivalry ao3 tag is Scary and Big and too much to keep up with, so at the moment I am finding new fics entirely by word of mouth, either through rec lists or author bookmarks. Now I want to spread the love a little myself because I keep finding these gorgeous gorgeous fics with way fewer hits than I would have expected. So here's my "hidden gem" (<20k-ish hits[HR stats are INSANE]/not often recced) heated rivalry fic rec list.
Fair warning, I'm an angsty character study girl, so most of these fics are less than lighthearted. That said, consider these fic recs to also be author recs, and thankfully most authors are doing more than just angst (at a minimum it's angst and porn lol).
Canon a little (or a lot) to the left
holy matrimony - lowkey_existential_despair
shane/ilya, 31k, E, complete
It's 2021 and Scott Hunter is getting married. Shane and Ilya attend the wedding (separately) and have Feelings about it. It's 2017 and Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov get married in secret. Literally no one knows they're gay, and it stays that way for years.
In my heart this is what happens in the alternate universe where David never walks in on them at the cottage, the characterization is top notch. Absolutely devastatingly sad, but also so so lovely, because they had each other all these years even when they didn't have anyone else. Just so gorgeously written and absolutely worth the read.
Game Day - Anon
shane/ilya, 30k, E, complete, cw: graphic deaths
Ilya dies during game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals. Except no he doesn't, because Shane wakes up in bed next to him the next morning. But it's still game day? And maybe Shane's not the only one stuck in the time loop.
Sounds awful and angsty, and it kind of is, but it's actually mostly dumb and camp and super fun. Trust me on this. (Heed the tags though because Ilya does still die a gruesome death everyday)
The Hottest Cold War - Vee(Vera_DragonMuse) [@dragonmuse]
scott/ilya (and also canon pairings), 75k, E, WIP
Scott accidentally hooks up with rookie Ilya Rozanov. And then he hooks up with him not-so-accidentally. And maybe it's good if they both have someone in their corners.
this goes on the hear me out cake. It's Scott POV but STAY WITH ME because the regular game changer and heated rivalry plots are happening too, Scott and Ilya are just hooking up on the side and it’s good. I swear it’s so good. Everything this author writes has such excellent characterization (go read all their HR fics, they're all so good) and it's very worth the read.
We Both Go Down Together - NotALonelyTraveler
shane/ilya, 34k, E, WIP
hanahaki disease AU
this is the fic that converted me to being a hanahaki fan. If any couple is gonna truly make sense for hanahaki it would be Shane and Ilya. However, it was the really lovely flower imagery that sealed the deal more than anything.
death and taxes (and shane hollander) - fingersfallingupwards [@fingersfallingupwards]
shane/ilya, 67k, E, WIP
Second chance romance with widower, single father, and hockey coach Ilya x deputy MLH commissioner Shane. Late-40s Hollanov where they reconnect and simultaneously communicate far better than and just as badly as the first time around.
Shane and Ilya feel like real adults here and it's glorious. Also does not fall into the second-chance romance trap where one person is So Very in the wrong and they should not be getting back together. This fic understands that adulthood is full of impossible choices, but also second chances.
anybody like you - plonk
shane/ilya, 29k, NR, WIP
figure skater Ilya Rozanov and new main character "my buddy Joe" are at the Sochi Olympics. And maybe Joe and Shane were a little gay once upon a time, and now Joe is sussing out whether Shane is actually gay or not. And maybe Shane is into Ilya, who's to say?
Love exploring Shane and his relationship with sexuality when Ilya's not around to be his gay awakening. In this one Shane thinks he just needs a girl who's into pegging him lol. The vibes are very "wow, I finally fit in with a group of people, life is great!" and the group of people are all queer and Shane just Does Not clock it. Very fun.
smoke on skin - ivylines
shane/ilya, 23k, T, WIP
Rose Landry accidentally runs into Ilya after a game while trying to surprise her boyfriend Shane and things start to click, maybe. Also a Rose character study (hence the proximity to the character study section)
Really deep dives into the Jennifer Lawrence/young female actress of it all. Like, yes Rose gets along with Shane because she's so famous, but in a lot of ways she's had the same specific struggles as Shane (intense public scrutiny, insane pressure to perform, 'role model' status to uphold, etc. and all from SUCH a young age because she was a child actress). Like, the trauma of being a child actress vs. the trauma of being a pro sports player - you never had a normal childhood and then becoming an adult flips the world on its head. Ugh, it's just delightful.
Character Studies
Shane and/or Ilya
the weather of your youth - Anon (same as above)
shane/ilya, 14k, E, complete, cw: suicidal ideation
Ilya Ottawa depression redux, except this time I actually believe it (sorry, RR, your depressed Ilya was rather unconvincing)
do take care with this one, but so well done wrt Ilya's depression. This version of events just makes so much more sense to me than canon. This author does excellent work in the sad fic department (the cockroach of your heart is too popular for this list, but I loved it, even if it's technically MCD, kind of)
Not a Strip of Paper Merely - Marvian [@mprosperossprite]
shane/ilya, 18k, E, WIP
Milan Olympics, 2026. Shane competes for Canada and Ilya doesn't compete at all. Competing is complicated when Russia is Russia and Canada isn't home, not like that.
international geopolitics! pandemics! the real world! Fascinating dive into Ilya's relationship with Russia and citizenship/international competition. Also there's some sex about it, but it's mostly really good angst and emotion.
Shine a Light in the Morning - thegoodthebadandthenerdy [@cauldronoflove]
gen, 14k, T, complete
Ilya's niece turns 18, decides to move to Canada, and reaches out to her uncle
complicated family dynamics and Feelings, what's not to love? You can feel the tension here, the years and years of distance + messed up family are so well conveyed. Not lovey-dovey, and it Shouldn't Be. Love this version of Ilya's niece.
Til They Retire Your Number - technicallyverycowboy [@technicallyverycowboy]
shane/ilya, 17k, E, complete
Ilya decides to retire. Shane is very normal about it.
sad and bittersweet and grappling with losing your Purpose. Because this is so obviously a problem for Shane. That man literally cannot think of anything in life past hockey, and yet retirement is an inevitability. Delicious to explore.
[the obvious companion to this fic (w/in the bounds of 'underappreciated') is here we are and what the hell are we going to do with it - walkingthroughwindows]
Other Characters (mostly parents)
we said we'd only die of lonely secrets - be_themoon [@oakashandwillow]
shane/ilya, 3.7k, T, complete
Svetlana character study/outsider POV of Ilya through the years.
lovely, lovely, lovely. Captures my ideal version of the Svetlana and Ilya relationship. Also has a criminally low hit count.
P.S. if you read and enjoyed my Svetlana fic this is the 'omg two cakes!' moment you've been waiting for.
i showed you the way, even though i'd never been - floodlights [@keenry]
gen, 4.8k, T, complete
You didn’t have to be a genius. Or gay. It helped, probably, that Scott was, but they were just so fucking obvious about it.
Scott outsider POV/character study. So good that I read this from a rec list and went to bookmark it, only to realize I already had a bookmark!
[Other Scott POVs:
Scotty Didn't Know (but he sure does now) - halfbaked_ziti
I've Been Down Here Before (I Know The Way Out) - HollowIsTheWorld]
And a Sense of Guilt I Can't Deny - jewelledfoxes [@jewelledfoxes]
david/yuna, 9k, M, complete
Yuna character study. Also hits on one of my fave themes: reckoning with who you meant to raise your child to be vs. who they actually became
I'm a Yuna lover and defender to my core. She was not the perfect mom (no one is, this is an insane bar to hit) but she tried! and is trying! This fic in particular does such a good job exploring the complexity of where she's at.
[Other Yuna fics in a similar vein:
Wunderkind - a_good_soldier [@agoodsoldier]
the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose - alchemystique [@alchemistc],
ribs - hoko_onchi]
tu peux sauter loin de la peur - Revenant
shane/ilya, 6k, T, complete
David goes to Shane's cottage to get his phone charger. Or maybe, it's really not about the phone charger.
David character study! I just find all the parent character studies to be delicious, and there really isn't a lot of David, which is too bad because I think there are some really interesting bits to dig into.
Of the Rose - cy_pres
gen, 4.5k, NR, complete
Irina tries to keep the pieces of her family together, even as she feels herself slowly fall apart.
Need I say more? (pre-suicide, not graphic)
Misc
summer has come and passed - littlearrows [@montrealmetros]
gen, 12k, T, complete
Yuna dies and Shane grieves
idk what to say about this one. It's really really good, but also, you know, Yuna dies.
predator instinct - elumish
scott/kip, 1.8k, T, complete
Shane's allyship includes the power of confidence and a pre-drafted takedown. Kip has no clue what just happened.
Would this be canon Shane pre-coming out? I don't think so, but it exists in a world where Shane is like, 20% less scared of being outed, so it's basically canon to me.
About Summer - Chaentics [@rozzed]
shane/ilya, 7.4k, M, complete
Ilya comes back. This is the crux of it.
From the AN: "i have chosen not to use archive warnings. it does not mean none apply." Very sad (are we surprised?) but also so so beautiful. Very Julia Armfield vibes - please take this as the warning/glowing endorsement it is lol.
When Shane asks Ilya whether he was afraid of the risk when he was sleeping with Sasha and Ilya says "Ah, no. It wasn't serious"
When Ilya spends two full years flirting with and pursuing Shane, while Shane barely gives any indication he is still interested.
When Shane kisses Ilya on the forehead in Montreal and Ilya looks like he has been struck by lightning and says, "I should go."
When Shane approaches Ilya during the Olympics, in Russia, and Ilya tells him "We aren't anything." (Then, years later, in a hotel room in Tampa: "We aren't anything. We can't be.")
When Ilya meets Sasha in a bathroom and Sasha says, "Danger used to get you going" and Ilya rejects him to stare at the text from Shane instead.
When they meet in Vegas and Ilya tries so, so hard to keep distance between them, but fails again and again: cradling Shane in a public bathroom, unable to keep from touching him in a hotel room. (Although he is successful enough that Shane notices, because it is such unusual behavior from him: We didn't even kiss.)
When he cannot even look at Shane, as they are lying in bed in Vegas, after. (When, years later, Shane notices Ilya turning his face away from him and know this means Ilya is overwhelmed and trying not to cry.)
(When Ilya tells Shane, in Russian, "It's you. It's always been you. That's the worst part about all this. I'm so in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it.")
(When Shane asks Ilya, at the cottage: "Does it fucking kill you, too?"
Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.
Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)
Wordcount: 7k
Part 2
Notes: hello! Are you hungry for a lil slice of ‘who did this to you’ pie with a big dollop of protective Bucky Barnes on top? Dig in!! I aim to be as nondescript as possible for the reader but I will note reader is shorter than Bucky and wears glasses. Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts! please consider reblogging, it helps my work reach more lovely people here on Tumblr. <3 merci!
---
Your regular lunch dates with Bucky started unintentionally. In fact, your friendship with Bucky had started that way – very unintentionally.
In retrospect, you couldn’t believe you had been late on your first day. You had intentionally set extra alarms to make sure you got to Stark Industries early.But you couldn’t control the inconsistencies of the New York subway system. When you skirted into the training room, only one seat was left – beside Bucky Barnes himself.
It was funny to think that the mandatory onboarding applied to new Avengers, too.
Of course, you knew who he was – the former Winter Soldier – but you didn’t realize he had to sit through the boring health and safety discussions and HR seminars like everyone else. When the first lunch break arrived, you turned to him and asked if he wanted to join you for lunch at the burger place down the street.
Initially, it looked like he was fighting off the urge to decline, but then he said: “Sure.”
Your conversations were very stilted in the beginning, which you didn’t mind. But as the week carried on, you felt the foundations of a friendship.
(He told you, later, that he appreciated your kindness that first day. That he had been really fucking scared to sit in that room with strangers judging him. He liked that you treated him like a normal person.)
It had grown organically since then – but you were simply just work friends. Your roles at Stark Industries slash The Avengers Initiative didn’t always overlap, but you did occasionally see him in the halls or if he happened to be by medical when you were working. Then, one day, you saw him eating alone in the cafeteria and you dropped down across from him to catch up.
Then lunch turned into a routine for you both. Typically on Wednesdays you’d sit together, if Bucky wasn’t on a mission or you weren’t on the night rotation. Sometimes Sam or Steve or some of the other nurses joined you, but secretly, you liked when it was just you and Bucky. Sometimes it felt like he preferred it that way too.
“So, guess what?” You sat down on the chair across from him, your tray knocking against his. He slowly moved his eyes from the pages of his book – he almost always had his nose in a book at lunch, regardless of the company – and matched your smile.
“I take it you got good news?”
You searched his face then frowned. “Wait, do you already know? That’s not fair.”
“Sam showed me the roster.”
A groan rumbled from your chest. “Boo.” You tipped your head to look at him as you paused. “Can you just pretend you’re about to hear this for the first time?”
Bucky smirked, putting down his book and politely stacking his hands to give you his full attention. “Sure. Start again?”
“Guess what?” You repeated, rolling your eyes.
“I’ve got no clue, doll. What?”
“You are looking at the newest member of the field medical team!” The chair legs squeaked as you danced in celebration.
“Congratulations,” Bucky replied, a wide smile crossing his face. He reached out and offered his fist, which you met with your own. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another - a silly secret handshake you had invented together over a Taco Tuesday lunch one day, mostly out of annoyance to Sam.
You deflated afterwards, though, as reality set in. “Hopefully I can make it through training next week. It’s going to be hard but.. I can do hard things.”
Bucky reached over and grabbed your hand, holding it for a moment though he quickly pulled back. “You’re going to do great. You wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”
You smiled, glancing down to where his hand had briefly made contact with yours. It felt.. hot, for some reason. You resisted touching the skin there. This had been happening more than you wanted to admit recently – a new spark when you saw him, when you touched. You thought you had easily avoided the possibilities of a developing crush on Bucky but.. something had been brewing for you. And maybe the same was happening with him, too - when you thought about how he looked at you, how considerate he was…
You wouldn’t know with any certainty unless you asked and you were way, way too scared to ask. Ruining your friendship may not be worth it. Especially if you were joining the medical team that would accompany the Avengers on some of their missions. What if you made it weird? What if you went on one date and it was terrible and your friendship never recovered? What if you asked Bucky out and then he laughed in your face and –
“We should go out and celebrate,” he cut you off.
Wait. Was his voice shaking?
You met his eyes. Was he nervous? “I still.. I have to pass the training.”
“I know,” he nodded. “And tomorrow I leave for.. an undisclosed location for the week. So. When I get back and you’ve crushed the training and have the new job title, let’s go out.”
“Just you and me?” You asked, swallowing hard.
Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah. If you..”
“Like a date?”
He closed his eyes, face scrunched up. It was cute. “Yeah, like a date, sweetheart. Just you and me.”
Okay, well, okay. Yes. Okay, that answered your question. You supposed the risk was being taken either way. There. He did the thing before you could even talk yourself out of it.
You smiled, nervously adjusting your glasses. Oh my god. You hadn’t even answered. With eyes wide, you reached for him. “Yes, that sounds.. that sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
He grinned, squeezing your hand. “For a second there, I really thought I screwed all this up.”
---
Bucky couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to finally just do it. Asking you out had been at the top of his list for a long time and although it scared the shit out of him, this follow-up feeling of anticipation had been totally worth it. Now he just needed to get through a grueling mission with a sweet reward at the end – a date with you.
You- the first stranger who treated him like a regular person. You - who cared so deeply about your job. You - who seemed to always hear his snarky comments and always laughed, giggled, snorted, at them. With a smile that could make his entire body warm up.
You. He couldn’t wait for that damn date.
A date was the scary next step. But he was tired of waiting and tired of denying his feelings. And thank god you had reacted just as positively. The foundation of your friendship was so important to him but he had a feeling things could be even better. He prayed he wouldn’t fuck it all up.
When he showed up at the compound early in the morning to get on the jet, Bucky was surprised to see Sam prepping in the pilot’s seat.
Sam jumped in with an answer before the question even left Bucky’s lips. “Natasha had to join Clint on the Belize mission, last minute. So it’s you and me, pal.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. Though he wasn’t mentally prepared for a week with Sam, he could handle it. Bucky was certain he could handle anything that he faced this week, knowing it was your face on his mind keeping him going.
As you crossed his mind again, another thought surfaced.
“If you’re here, who’s taking over the training for the med field team?” Bucky reached for his phone then cursed. They were going dark for this mission so he’d left his phone in his locker. Although he had sent you a message after he got up that morning, he wanted to reach out one last time and send some extra reassurance your way.
“Don’t worry,” Sam knocked his shoulder, standing up to do a final check of the gear. “Your girl is in good hands.” Sam added in a wiggle of his fingers in Bucky's direction.
You weren’t Bucky’s girl.. yet. He didn’t feel bothered by the term. In fact, he loved it and so badly wanted you to be okay with him saying it some day too. Though it was still worth correcting Sam. It didn’t seem fair to put a label on something without consulting you first. Not to mention Sam’s teasing about you and Bucky had been going on for months and Bucky did not want to indulge him.
“She’s not mine,” Bucky replied, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.
Sam carried on. “Boone is doing the training protocol instead, but I’ll manage the final evaluations next week.”
A quiet groan escaped Bucky’s lips. “Boone is a jackass.”
“I don’t disagree that he can be a bit too self assured - but he has proved himself in the field and will be a great mentor to this cohort.”
“Wasn’t he one of the agents Steve benched a few months ago - after his annual physical? What’s the term they used - he was doping?”
Sam sighed. “He was clean but a couple of his buddies were thrown out. But Boone is good, Buck. She’s gonna be fine.” With a final glance at the screen between them, Sam clapped his hands. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
---
When you applied for the job at Stark Industries for their medical team, you weren’t entirely sure what the role was going to entail. Your years of working as a nurse at the busiest emergency room in Chicago had given you plenty of experience with, well, everything and anything imaginable. You were always prepared for the unexpected.
What you hadn’t expected though was the pace - it was significantly slower than you imagined. Most of your days revolved around small visits from agents for anything from minor injuries and lacerations to annual physicals. On occasion you’d support when the Avengers came in, but usually they worked directly with Dr. Cho or the other on site doctors.
You figured the cure for your unrelenting desire for more was to get on the field medical team - a group of agents and trained nurses who accompanied the Avengers or other strike teams on missions, acting as a resource for any injuries to civilians and team members alike. Not every mission needed a team and sometimes it would involve last minute travel, but you didn’t mind.
When your application for transfer was finally accepted, you couldn’t get over how excited you were. You had been working hard for months getting into better shape, especially your stamina. Sure, maybe you could do a bit more when it came to targeted strength training but you had qualified on the initial testing to even get into the training level, so you’d be fine.
You could do this.
Truthfully, you were really excited about it. And Bucky had sent you the most encouraging message before he left that morning and you just.. You knew you could do this.
Bucky's words echoed: “...you wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”
You were going to do this well and you were going to make yourself proud, too.
Most of your excitement depleted when you walked into the gym though. You joined the rest of the agents in the training group and braced yourself when you saw Agent Nathan Boone standing with his tablet, calling out names for attendance.
“Wilson had to suit up as Falcon and jump on a critical mission this morning so I’ll be running the training program this week,” he explained as he sized up his group, which included you plus another half a dozen training agents.
Without a doubt, Boone was the worst replacement for Sam you could think of. Boone exuded a confidence you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around, given his frat guy personality. Hiding behind his smarmy grin, linebacker build and perfectly coiffed hair - he was a real jackass.
You tried not to let your mind race as Boone walked you all through the upcoming week of training. You’d be going over everything from basic self defense skills to hand to hand combat strategies to overall endurance drills. Then he explained that next week it was Sam Wilson who’d be doing the final evaluations.
“So let’s prove to him you’re all a good batch, okay?” Boone’s demeanor shifted as he got into his coaching mode. “Let’s start with a warm up run. Onto the treadmills.”
This wasn’t your first interaction with Boone, though you weren’t sure he would remember you.
During your first few weeks you’d been responsible for doing the annual physicals for most of the agents. It had been a very repetitive (and boring) assignment, until some anomalies came up in the test results. A few agents, including Boone, had weird things flagged on their blood and urine tests - mostly markers that indicated steroid use. Which was completely against standards for agents and employees at Stark Industries.
One of them, some bulky aggressive asshole, tried to convince you to look the other way but you had ultimately reported it. The fallout caused a huge uproar between the medical team and the agents, with the consequence coming down on a handful of agents who were fired due to drug use. Boone had escaped that fate somehow, passing his re-test with perfect results. And even though HR promised you it was a sealed case, you were always worried it had left a bit of a target on your back.
Nothing had come from it. The next round of physicals you assisted with didn’t involve any of those field agents and no other concerns had been flagged. Everything seemed back to normal.
In fact, you had seen Boone once since that whole controversy. A few months ago you passed him flirting with one of the admins in your department but you kept your head down and ignored him. That was it.
Hopefully the week of training wouldn’t be soured by your history with him but you figured it was safest to go in with an open mind.
Thankfully, by the end of your run, as you were moving onto some basic tactical drills, he continued treating you just like everyone else. Generally firm and distant overall, but nothing strangely out of the ordinary. His barked orders were delivered to everyone evenly. If he had any recollection of your connected history, he didn’t bring it up.
The first day of training had been tough, especially since you still had a few extra hours of work to log afterwards. When you returned to your reporting station in the medical wing, you had to really settle your mind down and talk your way through the unkind thoughts racing around your brain.
You could do this.
The second day focused exclusively on muscular endurance, which wasn’t really your strong suit but you managed to keep up with the group all the same.
Boone had the entire cohort going hard - with a lot of tough but constructive encouragement coming from him along the way. When one of the other trainees dropped their barbells, it seemed to irritate Boone immensely too. He let out a few curses as he helped them pick the weights back up then apologized for his reaction but the flare of anger was evident.
When you were all heading back to the locker rooms, it was one of the other agents muttering about ‘roid rage’ that raised a red flag for you.
It was during the third day of training that you felt the first tug of resistance with Boone. It was small things that you couldn’t help but file away. The way he delivered supportive commentary to everyone else in the group but only gave you critical feedback. During one of the practical scenarios, he undermined all your answers.
“I see why you’d think that way if you’ve never done this before but I can tell you by experience, it wouldn’t work. Bit of an amateur way of looking at things, actually. You need to do better if you’re going to be in the field with experts. Are you sure you passed the interview for this role?”
He said things in a way that didn’t always seem personal to you, but he certainly delivered them in a condescending tone.
But, maybe, well, maybe you were just reading into things. You were feeling tired already and not really sleeping, so your focus was a bit off.
Yeah, you could do better, strategize better, think things through in a better way.
On the fourth day, after a morning of weapons training and spending time at the range, the session moved onto sparring drills. It was quite basic - Boone walked the group through easy to follow hand to hand techniques, spending time here and there with each person to adjust their form.
Everyone who qualified for the med team had to pass certain physical testing standards already. You had been working hard in the gym for months to get your mind ready, though you knew you weren’t very experienced in anything related to defensive techniques.
When he got to you following one of the scenarios, there was a firm frown on his face. “You need to be less in your head.”
You nodded, flexing and stretching your hands out. “Okay. Uhm okay, well, do you have any tips on how to–”
He was quick to cut you off. “Figure it out. I don’t have time to teach you critical thinking skills.” Following a sharp finger snap, he pointed directly at you. “And what’s with the glasses?”
“Ran out of contacts this morning, but I can do without them if I need to. Its–”
“They’re a safety risk.”
He didn’t care for your explanation or offer you any other advice, instead just muttering something as he moved on and tapping something into the tablet. None of his feedback had been helpful. Christ, you figured maybe it was worth starting a list to consult with Sam about following your evaluation instead.
You just had to get through one more day with Boone. You were tired - down to your bones, from the physical and mental work during this week.
But it was nearly the weekend and that meant next week was approaching. Most importantly, the training would be done and you would have a real date with Bucky on the books, too. You couldn’t wait.
---
The last training day was mostly a culmination of everything you had gone over from the week. There was more endurance testing, some strength and performance work and the day ended with more sparring and situationals.
You knew this was the light at the end of the tunnel. And when everything was wrapping up, you were relieved to finally be done with taking instructions from Boone, too.
Until his final speech. “You’ve been a great group and I would say most of you are ready for next week. Wilson will be impressed.” After a few more notes and instructions for the following week, he dismissed everyone. As you headed back towards the locker room, he called your name.
That made your stomach drop. He waved you back over towards the mats.
“I just wanted to give you a heads up,” Boone started slowly, eyes glancing around the empty room before he looked down at his tablet screen. “Here is the report on your training this week.” He turned the device so you could read over it.
After the first line, you took it from his hands. “Wait - what?”
“I just don’t think you’re ready.” Boone crossed his arms. “You’ve got the medical knowledge, sure. But the rest of it, even if you had another two months to train, I’m doubtful.” He took the tablet back and continued scrolling, as if he hadn’t just delivered such a disappointing blow to you. “It’s up to you whether you still want to do your test with Sam next week, but if I was in your shoes, I’d tap out.”
You swallowed hard, head tipped slightly to the side as you took in what he was saying. “That doesn’t make any sense. I kept up with everyone here this week.”
“This is a controlled environment; I don’t think you can hack it in the field.” Boone shrugged. “Like I said, you’re more than welcome to do your evaluation but I don’t think this will impress The Falcon enough to solidify your spot on the field team.”
“Good thing you’re not in charge of this decision then,” you bit in return, taking a step back. It felt like he was egging you on and you didn’t like it. Even worse that you were alone with him in the gym. “I don’t have to prove shit to you.”
“You don’t have to, or you simply can’t?” He countered, tossing the tablet to the side as he crossed his arms. He sized you up, eyes drawing up the shape of your body. “Let’s try something.” He motioned to the mats. “I’ll give you another chance to change my mind about that report. Maybe I misread your abilities and intentions.”
You knew the right thing to do would be to walk away and ignore how he was antagonizing you. But a tiny voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that you were good, that you had earned your place here. That you needed to show him that.
No, you didn’t.
Yes, you did.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing yourself in the middle of the mat. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
Boone laughed, standing in front of you. He scanned you over again. “Scenario. You’re in the field, there’s a civilian who needs medical attention. You’re alone with them as everyone else explores the area for threats. But, it's night time, it was a busy bit of action and –” Boone reached over and pulled your glasses off. “And you lost your glasses in the chaos.”
Before you could protest about the logistics of this stupid scenario, he threw them to the side.
You shook your head and immediately stepped back. “What the fuck?”
“Maybe you should have worn your contacts today.” He replied and this time, there was something more at the edge of his words. Something unsettling.
This was a bad idea. But he was waiting for you to reply, to call his bluff and tap out. You growled to yourself and stayed.
“The civilian has a broken limb so you’re on the ground beside them.” Without even hesitating he placed both his hands on your shoulders and shoved you down to your knees.
None of this made any lick of sense. This wasn’t a scenario you’d end up in. You wouldn’t be alone or you’d call for backup.
He continued without a second thought, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand on the crown of your head. “And someone comes at you from behind – now you’re compromised and so is your civilian.”
You sat there on your knees, chock still. A red flashing light was going off in your mind but for some reason, you stayed.
A low, grumbly laugh escaped him. “See? Not only are you a terrible nurse but you have no fucking instinct—”
You immediately swung your leg up to hook behind him, not sending him down to the ground but gaining enough of your own momentum to plot out your next move. Planting a foot, you lunged forward and grabbed his waist, pulling him towards the mat.
That really set off whatever anger had been simmering in him. The next thing you saw was the training mat as your face and torso were being shoved against it.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your shouting felt useless as your body writhed under his weight. Your cheek dragged across the plastic mat as you moved, burning against your skin. “Get off of me, you—”
“Defend. Yourself.” Boone barked back, adjusting to grab your arm. He gripped your elbow, then twisted your wrist behind your back. A jolt of pain rushed down your shoulder. “Took me a few days but then I remembered your face.”
You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please just stop. What is—why are you—”
“Three of my friends, my brothers – you ruined their lives, you know that? They lost all their job prospects, they have fuck all left because of what you did. You know, we need that stuff - to keep up with supersoldiers. There is nothing fucking wrong with some pharmaceutical help. If I’m backing up Captain America, I deserve the boost.” With his knee pressing against your back, he leveraged himself to sit up a bit straighter. But his grip on your wrist remained, growing tighter and tighter. “If you had just turned the other way and ignored those tests—”
“I was doing my job,” you mumbled back at him. “They were the ones who broke the rules and—”
His voice hadn’t quite grown to shouting but the intensity grew. “And you are the one who suffers now, alright? And you sure as hell aren’t joining the field team. I’m going to make sure of it.”
---
All Bucky wanted to do when they got back to the compound was text you. It was late Sunday night but he didn’t care.
After the grueling week he and Sam had, Bucky took comfort in knowing soon enough he’d get to see you. He wanted to know about everything from last week - from training to everyday life, he just wanted to talk to you. Crossing the threshold from friends to something more was scary but during his long, sleepless nights, you provided a strange sense of comfort to him.
Without doing a dang thing. Just knowing you made him better, inspired him to be better and to be present.
“Hey,” Sam tugged on Bucky’s arm before he headed to the locker room. “Medical check first. Then you’re free to send your little smiley face emojis to her.”
Bucky grumbled but didn’t have the energy to argue with Sam. The mission had gone well but hadn’t been the smoothest for either of them. While they both returned unharmed, Bucky knew coming down from these sorts of weeks properly was important.
Finally, after a clearance from the nurse and a quick shower - Bucky was turning his phone back on.
He dismissed all the messages from Steve and an Avengers group chat he liked to ignore then finally found his way to his conversation with you. Seeing a slew of your thoughts over the course of the week made him smile.
You: good luck this week - come back in one piece, please <3
You: made it through day one and two, turns out my five-story walkup apartment is good for my cardio skills after all lol
You: remind me of that next time I complain about the stairs
You: day three has proved that I do need to work on my upper body strength
You: wanna be my personal trainer? ;)
You: miss you, hope everything is going safely
You: this week has really kicked my ass
Your messages did peter off by Friday and although Bucky longed for more, he assumed you were probably just tired after the long week. Plus, the training wasn’t for the light of heart. Sam had shown him the schedule and although it was standard, its intensity was intentional. Not that Bucky doubted you - he knew you’d been preparing as best as you could since you had shown an interest in joining the field team months ago. But that could really exhaust someone by the end of it.
And tomorrow you had to power through a final evaluation with Sam too, so Bucky hoped you got to spend the rest of the weekend resting.
He dropped down onto one of the benches and planned his response.
Bucky: hey doll, made it back safe and sound
Bucky: in one piece, I promise :)
Bucky: can’t wait to hear about last week, I’m sure you did great
Bucky: good luck tomorrow, I’ll come find you after the eval
Bucky: sweet dreams
---
Bucky felt a little bit silly, lingering outside the training gym. At least he wasn’t pacing, that would have been an even worse look. He leaned against the opposite wall to the doors, arms crossed.
Something just felt a bit off for him and, well, finally seeing you would help ease his mind. It was just strange – the lack of communication. Sure, he had sent his message quite late the night before but he assumed he might hear something back from you during the day.
But no, it had been radio silence. He could attribute it to your needing to prepare for your evaluation but that didn’t seem like enough of a justification. In all the times you and he had been friends, you always managed to send a reply.
He would just have to settle for an in person update, following your testing with Sam. Five other agents exited the gym by mid afternoon, but you never showed up at the door.
Sam did eventually emerge, tapping quickly against his tablet. He came to a halt when he spotted Bucky waiting, arms now tightly locked behind his back.
Bucky looked over Sam’s shoulder, trying to glimpse into the gym before he met his eyes. “How’d she do?”
Sam let out an awkward laugh. “Well, she didn’t show. She sent me an email earlier saying that she was sick.”
Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh.”
“I know, weird. What’s even more weird though is that when I said we could reschedule her for another date, she tapped out.” Sam raised his shoulder to shrug then showed Bucky the screen.
Bucky scanned over the message and frowned. It was true. Your reply to Sam was short, explaining you didn’t want to reschedule and declined any further interest in the field team. That was it. You were out.
“Given how she sent me a five-paragraph essay explaining how excited she was to join the team, this seems out of character.” Sam tucked the screen under his arm and patted Bucky on the shoulder. “Give me an update after you talk to her.”
“What makes you think—”
“Oh, I already see your wheels turning. You’re doing the math on how quickly you can get to her place.” Sam called after him as Bucky turned to leave. “Let her know I can reschedule her anytime!”
---
You knew you couldn’t ignore Bucky forever. It was just.. it felt like too much, thinking of a way to reply. After what happened with Boone on Friday, every single thing in your life felt like climbing the steepest mountain.
It was absurd how quickly things had escalated. You should have just walked away the instant Boone brought up your evaluation. Getting on that mat with him was really fucking stupid and.. here you were.
You could barely remember how you got home Friday – dazed and confused and numb. After Boone finished screaming and you had stopped trying to fight back, you curled up on yourself. You fought back tears over the humiliation and pain, hands shaking as you grabbed your things from the locker room. One ridiculously overpriced cab ride later and you made it home to your studio in Astoria.
Then you cried in the shower and all the way to your bed - where you stayed as long as you possibly could on Saturday, dousing yourself in painkillers just to try and stay asleep.
You knew you needed to go to urgent care, or even just an emergency room - somewhere you could afford the x-ray. You had never broken a bone before but you had seen plenty of hand fractures during your time working in triage. You couldn’t make a fist, your hand was bruising up towards your wrist and the pain was excruciating. The image of Boone stomping on your hand and wrist as you tried to crawl away was imprinted in your mind…
You were stuck on the climb though. The mental battle of trying to figure out the best lie to tell the admitting nurses anywhere was daunting. Christ, how would you explain this?
You had to - you had to tell someone. The way Boone had flown off the handle, how he attacked you verbally and physically, he couldn’t get away with it. You knew the right thing to do but… fuck if you weren’t scared. He had made it pretty clear he’d be keeping an eye on you. And there was no way you’d be able to do your test with Sam now.
If you reported him, you’d probably have to get HR and the police involved and what if he denied everything and—
You ended up in a helpless loop every single time.
Saturday came and went. You only left your apartment to visit the nearest drugstore for a new compression bandage and more pain medication. Sunday passed by just the same. You skipped your normal spin class and barely spent time outside of your bed.
The pain in your hand was growing worse and worse. You had to use your left hand to send Sam and your manager messages - because even just moving your right hand made your stomach swirl. And the guilt about not responding to Bucky was growing bigger and bigger too.
How could you explain it? Boone had pressed your buttons and you pushed back and look what happened. How could Bucky be proud of you now?
Your phone had buzzed mid afternoon, just after you were supposed to be doing your session with Sam.
It was Bucky - worried and asking if you needed anything for whatever illness was plaguing you.
You ignored it.
When he called, you ignored that too.
You were balled up on the end of your couch, eyes glazed over as another episode of your favourite show loaded up on Netflix. You knew you needed to eat something, that the pain medication on an empty stomach was a recipe for disaster. But… you couldn’t get up. Laying perfectly still with a bag of frozen vegetables on your hand was the closest thing to relief you had.
Then, someone was knocking at your door. The noise made you gasp, though you couldn’t move. You could ignore the noise along with everything else. It was probably just your downstairs neighbour back to complain about your TV again and –
Whoever was at the door knocked again, this time calling out your name.
You recognized the voice.
Bucky.
He called your name out again. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re sick. I just want to make sure you’re alright. I grabbed some soup from that place I was telling you about.”
You sucked in a deep breath and pulled yourself up off the couch. You really, really wanted to see him - just the idea of his smile made everything feel a bit better. But then you couldn’t hide anymore and… hiding felt safe.
“I’m okay,” you finally replied as you got approached. “Feeling better but I might be contagious, Buck.”
You sensed some relief from him as his feet shuffled on the other side of the door. “Sweetheart, I.. I can’t even get sick, okay? I just need to see you.”
“My apartment is a mess.”
“I don’t care.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bucky, I’m.. I’m not at my best right now.”
“I don’t care.” He said your name once more. “Please.”
You pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt then reluctantly reached for the door knob.
---
When you finally opened the door, Bucky was relieved. But when you immediately turned away to return to your couch without a word, his relief felt misplaced. Something was wrong. Your sudden weekend illness and dropping out of the new job training weren’t adding up to anything that felt good.
He was worried.
Bucky had never been inside your apartment before. There were a handful of occasions after work or some happy hour thing when he dropped you off but this was new. He liked the idea of seeing your home but he wished it had been different circumstances.
Home was a little studio, with a compact kitchen ahead of him across from the door. Beside it was a cozy living room area separated from the bed and windows, divided by a short bookcase. It was so very you and Bucky wanted nothing more than to just be there with you, scan over the books you like and curl up together on the couch.
But it wasn’t the time to daydream. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen to deposit the takeout bag, retrieving the soup before moving to where you were curling back up in your blankets.
“How are you feeling?” He took another step closer but stopped when you leaned away from his approach. He took a seat opposite you and extended the container in your direction.
“Yeah, I’m.. okay,” you replied with a shrug. “Thanks for the soup.” You took it from him, reaching across yourself awkwardly with a shaking hand, and rested it on your lap.
He took the moment of silence to get a better look at you. Behind your glasses, your eyes were swollen, as if you had been crying. Bucky watched you carefully maneuver the spoon and it wasn’t lost on him you were favouring your left hand. In fact, your right arm was barely moving.
“Do you need anything else? I could run to the pharmacy..” He trailed off as his eyes shifted to your coffee table, which was littered with an array of pill bottles. Mostly painkillers and what looked like a melting bag of frozen peas. And tucked under the table was… a half empty bottle of wine. Not exactly the type of self medication for a stomach bug or the common cold.
You closed your eyes, taking another taste of the soup before gently moving it to the table. “I think the worst of it has passed. Just.. tired now, I guess. I’ll be back at work tomorrow.” You smiled, just barely, then it disappeared as your eyes shut.
Bucky considered that the perfect opportunity to change the subject. Your name left his lips. It was quiet. You peaked one eye open to look at him.
“What happened last week?” he asked.
You laughed, though it came out quite empty. “Just five very intense, rigorous training days. I wasn’t great but.. I managed, I guess.”
Bucky cut to the chase, though he couldn’t predict your reaction. “So how come you’re not doing the final evaluation?”
A long sigh escaped you, rolling your eyes before leaning back again. You stared at the ceiling. “Should I just start adding you to all my correspondence with Sam?”
“Don’t be mad at Sam,” Bucky replied. “I asked him and he only told me because he was worried.”
You laughed again, with more of your body. The same emptiness remained and this time it seemed to cause you pain. You winced, swallowing an uncomfortable look on your face as you turned to peer at him. “I’m not mad at Sam. I’m mad at..” You shook your head. “At myself, I guess.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, alright? It’s over and I missed today and–”
“Sam offered to resch–”
“Bucky, it doesn’t matter!” You snapped this time, cutting him off.
Bucky shook his head. Something else was going on. He had never seen you like this before - despondent and… broken. Sure, your friendship had rarely escaped the walls of work but the foundation between you both was solid. He had seen your ups and downs, and you had seen his too - recalling bad dates and ranting about missions and laughing over lunch and all of it.
He knew you. The person sitting across from him, it wasn’t you.
“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s going on.”
Your eyes were closed again, head shaking. “Nothing is..” Your lip trembled. “Maybe you should just go..”
Bucky stood from the couch, but he didn’t move to the door. Instead, he crouched right in front of you. “If that’s what you really want, I’ll go, okay? I’d never stay if you didn’t want me here. But you opened that door for me. You could have already sent me away, soup in hand. I’m here right now because I care about you.” He said your name again, like a plea for you to look at him. “I can help, okay? Whatever is going on, I can help. Let me help, please.”
Your breath picked up, intertwined with winces of pain as you adjusted on the couch. You crossed your legs then moved your arms carefully, using your left hand to tear away your sweatshirt. Finally, you opened your eyes and extended your right arm to Bucky.
Despite being wrapped in a compression bandage, the swelling was evident on your fingers. Bruises littered your hand too and continued upwards to your t-shirt line.
Bucky dropped to his knees, looking from your face down towards your arm. He whispered out your name, desperately trying not to fill in the blanks without getting more information from you. “What happened?”
You simply shook your head, swallowing whatever response was trying to escape.
“Can I–” He motioned to your hand, cautiously reaching for it. You didn’t move, allowing him to unwrap the bandaging. You winced at the touch and change in pressure, eyes clamping shut again as you breathed deeply.
Bucky skated his fingers along the side of your forearm, down towards your wrist and hand. Light shades of purple and blue decorated your skin but the swelling was what concerned Bucky the most.
“I’m worried something is broken.” You finally said quietly, letting out another groan of pain as Bucky flipped your hand over to assess the underside.
He wanted to reply with ‘yeah, no shit’ but figured that wouldn’t be helpful. If you hadn’t sought out medical attention by now, there was probably a good reason. You were smart, a nurse who could easily figure out her own symptoms. But something was stopping you. Embarrassment, guilt.. Maybe fear?
Bucky was gentle as he held your hand. Christ, his mind was racing. “What happened? Did you fall? Did something go wrong last week?”
You shook your head.
Although there was one giant fucking obvious glaring answer to his next question, Bucky wanted to hear your response. Maybe you had fallen or dropped something on it this weekend. Maybe you had crushed it between a door or something, anything else than someone hurting you. Because the thought of anyone doing that, inflicting any intentional harm –
Bucky sucked in a breath and looked back at you. Your lower lip was already trembling again. He had to ask. He didn’t want to, but he fucking had to.
“Sweetheart, who did this to you?”
“I should have walked away, Bucky. I..” You immediately trailed off, head shaking again as you tried to collect yourself.
With you, Bucky would be patient. He would always be patient. A few moments ticked by as he waited, still holding your injured hand in his.
“It was supposed to just be a routine scenario, a test sort of thing I guess. But he was… he was volcanic. The anger erupted and he - he.. Bucky, I was just doing my job, it’s not my fault his friends lost theirs an-and he got so mad. I tried to get away but he just kept going.”
He said your name quietly. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?” You did, breathing in tandem with him a few times as you steadied yourself. “You’ve gotta tell me a name, please.”
After another deep breath, you nodded. “It was Boone.” You closed your eyes. “I think he’s taking drugs, steroids–again and he just.. I shouldn’t have engaged him at all. And I tried to get away once I realized he was freaking out..”
Bucky stilled, lips pulled into a straight line. “Hey, look at me.” He waited for you to meet his gaze. “This isn’t your fault.” God, he wanted to say so much more but the simmering anger below the surface was bubbling up. And that wasn’t important. You needed an x-ray and real medical attention. Then, maybe he could face the rage coursing through his bones. “Sweetheart, we’ve gotta get this looked at, okay?”
Reluctantly, your head shook. “I know. I just.. I don’t want to have to go to urgent care and explain what happened. I should have already gone and I feel so stupid about the whole thing and-and–”
He placed his free hand on your knee to stop you. “Okay. It's okay. I think I know where we can go. Let me make a few phone calls.”
Summary: Bucky had spent his entire life searching for peace and found it with you, an ex-S.H.E.I.L.D. agent. Now he was in the spotlight and desperate to keep his peace.
Word Count: 4,143
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x wife!reader
Masterlist
Notes:
Mentions of panic attacks and mental health struggles
The last thing Bucky wanted to do was sit through yet another briefing. It had been non-stop since Val surprised them with the press and even when he thought he had a moment to escape, a moment to get back to you, something demanded his attention. They look at him like he had any idea how to lead a team, just because he knew Steve and Sam didn’t mean shit for his leadership skills. The Winter Soldier operated as a lone wolf with no extraction plan just orders to return once his mission was done. Now he was being looked at to lead a team of misfits. The minute Val wrapped the meeting up he was already out of his seat but before he could make it out the door she called his name.
“Hang back a minute,” she said and his frame tensed. The rest of the team waited expectantly, waiting for his order. He gave them a nod and watched as they shuffled out.
“What now?” He asked, arms crossed as she walked around the table to stand next to him and throw a file down onto the table.
“So, were you ever going to disclose this?” She asked, flipping it open to a picture of you. His stomach tensed as the sight of your old S.H.I.E.L.D. file. Your face was so young and still had hints of babyfat in your cheeks. It reminded him of just how young you were when you joined what was essentially a suicide mission. “And that she had been in Hydra.”
“She wasn’t Hydra,” he snapped, “she was undercover.”
“And when were you going to disclose that you were married?” She asked, “You know, the Avengers had S.H.I.E.L.D. agents at their disposal, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to bring–”
“She’s retired,” he said firmly, grabbing the file and tucking it under his arm, “and my marital status is none of your concern.”
“It’s not a good look for the team Bucky, one of the New Avengers having a former spy now reclusive wife. Think about the bigger image,” Val said in the same manipulative tone she always tried to use on him. When was she going to learn it never worked?
“Just because you roped me into this mess does not mean she is a part of it,” he said, “I don’t want to hear talk about my wife coming from you again.”
He ignored the stares from the team as he stormed out of the conference room. Ignored the way they started to follow him towards the common floor. The one floor that it was universally agreed upon was theirs and no one else was allowed on. It helped that the security had been programmed by Ava to not allow anyone but them in.
“So you gonna tell us what’s in that file?” Yelena asked.
“No,” Bucky grumbled.
“We’re a team, Bucky,” Ava reminded him. And he stopped in his tracks, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. He knew she was right. But this, this was the one thing that was his. That hadn’t been marred or touched by everything else. The one sliver of peace he had found.
“Valentina tried to recruit someone close to me, someone who she knows doesn’t do this anymore,” Bucky said, walking over to the fireplace Bob had insisted on adding and having lit now that it was holiday season. Without hesitating he threw the file in there even if he knew more copies existed this felt like he was keeping you safe somehow.
“How close?” Yelena pressed.
“Drop it,” John said, “he doesn’t have to tell us.”
Of course John knew, he had been informed when he was Captain America and had met you briefly when you had tried to bail him out after missing his therapy sessions and violating the terms of his pardon. It had been a short interaction, but the glare you had leveled at John when he said he freed Bucky from his court-mandated sessions must’ve stuck. You didn’t want to help with the mission, wanted nothing to do with being an agent or a spy ever again, yet found yourself in the middle when helping get Sarah and the kids somewhere safe. No way was he dragging you into this.
“So you know,” Yelena said, turning to face John.
“Yeah, and it’s none of our business,” he said firmly.
“But–”
“Yelena,” John cut her off, “seriously, drop it.”
Something about her expression made Bucky think she most certainly wasn’t going to drop it, but all he wanted to do was go home to you.
The ceremony had been small. Quick. It was just you, Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Ayo in the dark Wakandan forest. As soon as the words had been erased from Bucky’s subconscious the first thing he did was want to marry you. There was no big party, no long white dress, just you and him knowing he was finally free from what Hydra had done to him. You still had the dress you wore that day tucked into a box in the back of the closet of the apartment you shared with Bucky. The one in Brooklyn, not DC. Even though he was only in Manhattan it felt like he was on the other side of the world. He had warned you that Valentina was digging, had found out about the two of you and was trying to bring you in. To avoid her snooping further you knew he was spending more nights at the Watchtower. Yet he was supposed to be home that night. Had promised but the time was ticking by.
“Hon?” His voice echoed through the apartment just as you were resigning to falling asleep alone again. You flew out of bed like a kid on Christmas and ran through the apartment just as he was setting his jacket on the couch and closing the door.
“Bucky,” you cried out excitedly and launched into a hug. He chuckled, pulling you up off your feet and your legs wrapped around his waist as your arms wrapped around his neck. “I missed you.”
“Yeah? Missed you too Honey,” he said softly, burying his face in your neck, “won’t be gone this long again I promise.”
“Did she stop snooping?” You asked as he pulled away to press a gentle kiss to your temple before setting you down.
“No,” Bucky sighed, “she’s asking more questions now.”
“I mean you told her no,” You said with a shrug, “and I checked with Rhodes, the thing she said about my pardon was bullshit.”
Right. The Pardon. Valentina had threatened to revoke it if Bucky didn’t bring you in as a team asset. That had made him send his metal hand through a concrete wall in the training room. If his pardon was steep, yours seemed impossible to navigate. Almost didn’t happen. Hell, they had denied Sharon hers. If it wasn’t Rhodes stepping in at the last minute then you probably wouldn’t be with him in your shared Brooklyn apartment but Madripor with Sharon or even worse, still in the Raft.
“She shouldn’t have tried to use it against you,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “not when you finally got out.”
Got out. For years it seemed like something that you would have never been able to do. You were so young when you willingly joined S.H.E.I.L.D., barely out of high school, yet they had chosen you for what seemed like a mission with no end. One that would probably end in your death. Yet you had done it if it meant saving the world. If it meant ending Hydra. In the end it had almost killed you, but it was Bucky who saved you. You had met him a few times as the Winter Soldier. Each time you were sneaking into his cell when he was awake begging him to remember who he was, begging him to come with you and run. So of course it had to be you who found him first after everything in DC. And you had run with him.
“You took care of it,” you said with a shrug, all your trust in him. Bucky had never given you a reason not to.
“Enough work talk,” he said softly, “tell me what you’ve been up to.”
“I finished that book I started,” you said, pulling his hand towards the kitchen, “you hungry? I tried to make Salisbury Steaks!”
“How’d it turn out?”
“Not great so I ordered takeout,” you said and Bucky laughed. When you’re too busy trying to survive and being a double agent there isn't much time to learn the normal adult things. Like cooking. When you had first started dating you were abysmally bad. But you had gotten the hand of a few things, perfected others. Every now and then you tried recipes and it was always a hit or miss.
“Couldn’t have been that bad,” he said, wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you to the breakfast bar. He started pulling out the leftover Chinese.
“Not even the strays outside would touch it,” you said and he laughed softly.
“What else was going on in your world, Honey? Catch me up, I want to hear all of it,” Bucky said.
So you did. You told him about the workout classes you tried, which stretches helped your aching muscles, and what new books you had gotten. You told him about how you were thinking of picking up another crossword puzzle book since you had filled yours out. All the while Bucky watched you like you hung the stars and the moon. After dinner you had crawled back into bed as he showered and changed, crawling in next to you just as the movie you had put on was halfway through.
“Wizard of Oz?” Bucky asked as he pulled you close.
“What was it like seeing the screen change color for the first time?” You asked, intertwining your fingers and occasionally tracing the lines of his metal hand.
“Closest thing to magic,” he breathed, “Steve, Rebecca, and I flew out of our seats. Couldn’t believe what we were seeing.”
“They’re playing it at a theater downtown, even projecting it on film,” you said, “I’m going to go, hoping you would be able to join me.”
“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your hand.
“What if you’re on a mission?”
“I’ll be there I promise.”
“Bucky–”
“I’ll be there.”
Of course, of fucking course the mission had gone sideways the one time he needed it to go smoothly. Of course it had taken longer than it should have. And of course Valentine wouldn’t shut up in the debrief about all the things that went wrong. He tapped his foot impatiently as time ticked by. Eventually he excused himself and sped walked towards his room. He made quick work of changing clothes, not bothering to do more than make sure he didn’t have blood on his face or hands, before flying out the door. He didn’t notice Yelena staring. Just had one goal.
Make it to the theater.
You were at the concession stand when he got there, digging through your purse for your wallet just as he walked over and handed his card over.
“Oh– Bucky!” You said with the same excitement you always did.
“Hey Honey,” he breathed out.
“I got you M&Ms and a Coke,” you said.
“Just what I wanted,” he said, “got your Icee?”
“Of course,” you said, grabbing the empty cups and heading towards the soda machines. Bucky’s arm around your waist stopped you.
“Nope,” he said, “you go sit down and I’ll get our drinks.”
“Bucky I can get some sodas,” you said with an eyeroll but let him take the empty cups out of your hands.
“I know,” he said and pressed a kiss to your temple, “go get our seats Honey, I’ll be right there.”
He waits for you to disappear into the screening room before turning and heading towards the soda machine. The back of his neck prickles. Without turning he hums as the prickling gets worse. They’re getting closer.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t follow me,” Bucky said, moving on to serve your Icee so it wouldn’t melt in the time it took for him to wrap this up.
“Why won’t you tell us about her?” Yelena’s voice said as she stood next to him, staring at the different sodas before settling on a sickly bright colored flavored one.
“Because she got out, and when she did she made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with this world again. I got myself into this mess. I’m not dragging her into it,” Bucky said, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let Valentina catch on that you know. You too Ava.”
“Was wondering when you’d realize I was here,” Ava’s voice carried from behind him. “We won’t tell Valentina.”
“Now scram,” Bucky said, “I have a movie to get too.”
You didn’t question him when he came back after taking longer than usual. Didn’t question the tenseness of his shoulders. All you did was rested your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers, and waited for the movie to play. As the beginning credits began to roll Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the memories that floated forward. Almost as if he looked to his left Rebecca would be on your other side, and Steve to his right. Maybe in another life, in another timeline, he came back from the war. They both did. And you were born back then and he wooed you. Nights would’ve been simple and holidays would’ve been rambunctious. You never would’ve been a double agent and he never would’ve been an assassin. But sitting in that screening room he felt peace.
You knew that healing was hard. There were more good days than bad for the both of you. As the weather grew darker it seemed that so did your mood. All you could think about were all those dark nights when you were still in Hydra’s grip. You tried to remind yourself it wasn’t willing. There was a bigger picture, a more important mission that had to be done. Yet as you tried to remind yourself of that your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Your breath just wasn’t coming as easy and tears prickled your eyes as your chest grew tighter. Instinctively you reached for your phone and dialed the one number you knew would always, always, answer.
“Barnes,” his voice was rough, tired. He was on his fourth day on this mission and you knew it would be a difficult one. But you couldn’t focus on that. All you wanted was to hear his voice.
“James,” you whimpered into the phone, squeezing your eyes shut as you slid down the wall of your room. On the other side of the phone you heard scuffling, grunting, before he called your name.
“Honey?” He said softly, “Tell me what’s going on.”
“I keep–I keep seeing it all,” you sobbed, “y-you strapped to that thing and I’m just standing there doing nothing.”
“Honey, listen to me,” he said strongly, “I know it seems like you’re drowning right now but you need to breathe. Just like we practiced.”
“I can’t,” you sobbed, shaking your head, “I keep seeing it all and I can’t sleep and it won’t stop.”
“Doll,” Bucky said softly, “where are your emergency meds?”
“I-I couldn’t get to the pharmacy before it closed,” you sobbed.
“Shit,” Bucky cursed and barked an order, “get Yelena to my apartment, now.”
“James?” You gasped between sobs.
“Listen Honey, someone is going to be with you. I’m so sorry it’s not me, but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he swore, “but I don’t want you alone right now.”
“Okay,” your voice is small and another sob echoed through the room.
For a while all you could focus on was Bucky’s voice coming through the phone. It got more distant when the phone slipped out of your hand so you could hug your knees closer to your chest. You could still hear his deep voice guiding you through breathing exercises. Neither of you panicked or flinched at the sound of the door being kicked in. You didn’t look up as footsteps got closer or as you heard him answer your phone.
“I’m in,” her voice was breathless, Yelena that must be her, “Ava is breaking into pharmacy. No you don’t get to call us in a panic and not expect us to do nothing. You will need a new door.”
You looked up when she called your name and through blurred vision you could make out blond hair and brown eyes. She was calm, kind as she extended her hand and helped you up. A soft hum left her lips as you let her lead you towards the couch.
“Sit, I make food,” she said.
After a while of hearing her work her way through your kitchen you felt your eyes grow heavy. Eventually they slipped closed and your dream was sleepless. It felt like only a moment you were asleep before you felt a familiar calloused hand cup your cheek and trace where the tears had stained your skin. Your eyes opened to face the blue eyes of your husband.
“Hey Honey,” his voice was soft.
“I’m sorry,” you croaked.
“No, none of that,” he mumbled, lifting you up enough to slide in under you. His fingers started to trace circles in your spine and the last of the tension that was held in your frame melted away.
“Where’s Yelena?” you asked.
“Guest room,” he said softly.
“Are you going to get in trouble for this?” You asked.
“I could care less about that,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “What happened?”
“There’s some new documentary coming out now,” you whispered, pressing your face into his chest, “about you. I’m in it.”
“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath, “don’t listen to shit–”
“It called me a hero,” you whispered and he stilled, “said I helped take down Hydra. Sacrificed everything for S.H.E.I.L.D. The…the historians were on my side.”
“And you don’t feel like you deserve it,” Bucky finished for you. You didn’t have to answer him, all you did was press your face deeper into his chest, “Honey, your files are out there. They know everything you did and they’re still calling you a hero.”
“How can they? I did terrible things,” You whispered, “I let terrible things happen.”
“They made you do those things,” Bucky said and he didn’t refer to who, not when you were a pawn for both agencies, “did you want to do those things?”
“No,” you whispered.
“You thought you were doing good,” he said, “and you were.”
“What good did I do?”
“You saved me, Honey,” he said and that made you look at him. His smile was tired and warm as he pushed hair away from your face, “you think I’d be the man I was today if it wasn’t for you.”
“Yes?” Your voice was quiet.
“Doubtful,” he hummed, his fingers tracing over the curve of your nose, “there were so many damn times I wanted to give up. Wanted to let someone finally arrest me, put me out of my misery. But you were always there. All those dark nights and days I had no idea who I really was, you were there. You didn’t have to go on the run with me but you did. I don’t think I would’ve survived it without you.”
“When I thought you died,” you mumbled, “during the blip, it almost killed me. It was only a few minutes before I also ya know…but they were terrible.”
“Do you have nightmares about that too?” He asked softly.
“Yeah,” you admitted, “when you’re not here. Sometimes I wake up in bed alone and think I came back but you didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I hate leaving you for so long.”
“Valentina…what if I–”
“No, absolutely not,” he was firm, “you got out. You wanted out, a life. You have it. Don’t give that up just to go on missions with me.”
“Can I…Can I stay in the tower when you’re gone?” You asked.
“Yeah,” he breathed, “if it’ll make it easier.”
“I think so,” you said, “can reach you easier. Monitor.”
“Stalk?” He questioned with an eyebrow raised.
“Maybe,” you said, melting into him, “Yelena was nice. So was Ava.”
“Yeah I’m going to have to deal with her breaking into the pharmacy later,” he grumbled but deep down you knew he was grateful.
“Alexei doesn’t seem half bad. Or Bob.”
“That’s because you don’t know Alexei.”
“But I know John and if you’re working with him he can’t be that bad anymore,” you said, “I want to meet them.”
He hesitated and you knew why. But you also saw the strain this was putting on the both of you to keep these two parts of his life separate. Exhaustion hit you as Bucky continued to trace patterns into your back, this time his cool metal hand had snaked under your shirt to trace the patterns right on your skin. It was familiar. Comforting. And before you knew it your eyes had slipped closed again.
Truly, Bucky didn’t know what to think about bringing you to the tower. Sure, when he had finally fessed up to the team that yes he was married and yes he would bring you around they had bombarded him with questions. All he said was he would answer them with you, which led to them begging him to bring you by. That had been…chaotic but he saw how your eyes lit up telling them how you two met. How you had grabbed him by the collar one night on the run and planted a kiss on his lips after successfully evading another one of Steve’s recon missions. How flustered he had been even though he was the big bad Winter Soldier.
“I don’t understand how you can be with such a grouch like Bucky,” Ava said with a headshake during post-mission drinks.
“He’s my grouch,” you said and he hummed in satisfaction next to you.
“Bucky says you were a badass,” Bob said, “why’d you quit?”
“I…” you stared down into your beer with a sad smile, “I was really young when I joined S.H.E.I.L.D. I guess they were looking for the perfect candidate to be a double agent. I had no ties, ya know? No friends or family that would preoccupy my time outside of work. Was determined to climb up the ranks. When Director Fury asked me if I wanted to do it it felt like I was being given a destiny, a legacy. Didn’t really know what all that meant you know? I wasn’t a kid but I was naive. And just like that, I didn't have a life anymore. Didn’t exist outside what Fury and Hydra wanted me to be.”
“Yet you found me,” Bucky said, “soaking wet after pulling Steve out of the river.”
“You looked more pathetic than I felt,” you teased and he laughed, “like a stray cat.”
“Yeah alright,” Bucky said.
“Anyways, before I was interrupted,” you sent a joking glare towards Bucky, “you all know what happens next. We’re on the run from Steve, then on the run from so many different governments. When we were in Wakanda there was peace and I realized I never wanted to go back to that fight. I was happy just existing with Bucky.”
“Then Thanos came,” Ava said and you nodded.
“After that…I watched a lot of good people die,” you said, “people who didn’t get to live out in peace. I was determined to live out mine.”
“Very admirable,” Alexei said, “you are a true warrior and an honorary Avenger.”
“Alexei–”
“He’s right, Honey,” Bucky said softly, “and not a New Avenger either. Just an Avenger.”
Your watery smile made Bucky’s heart tighten a bit but it didn’t last as you burst into laughter when Yelena and Alexei began bickering over if you were an Avenger or a Thunderbolt. Or if that meant Bucky was also technically an Avenger? He watched as you jumped into to stir the pot at the right moments to rile them up. Watched as your smile grew and the tears dried. And realized that the peace he had found with you, had protected so fiercely, didn’t need to be hidden from the team. Not when you were peace for all of them. The sweet honey in the bitter tea.
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
You shouldn’t be nervous, Steve had told you lots of times on the walk over to the Quinjet that Bucky would be there. As Bucky, not the Soldier. But you didn’t want to see him in cuffs or chains or a pod again. Your neck still bore burns from the electroshocks and your wrists were still bruised but you were free. Sort of. Currently in custody of the Avengers and once you got to New York you’d be confined to their compound but…free.
From the moment you got Bucky to stop his rampage as the Winter Soldier the guards hadn’t let you out of his sight. Until it was time to snap him out of it. Watching him slump over with whatever they injected him with made your stomach clench. It was all you could think of as Sharon led your interrogation. You didn’t know much, were never allowed to know much at Hydra, but they still took their time trying to pry every detail out of you. Until Steve burst through the door announcing they were leaving with you. They finally unlocked the collar from around your neck and Steve ushered you out. Straight to the platform waiting with the Quinjet.
“Where is she?!” You could hear Bucky snap as you walked up the ramp behind Steve.
“Relax Manchurian Candidate, Cap was just getting her,” Tony snapped back from somewhere in the front of the jet. Bucky’s head snapped towards you and the anxiety that had been running through your veins melted away.
“Thank god,” he breathed out, watching as you walked over to him, grabbing a hold of his sleeve of the matching shirt you still had on.
“You’re back,” you said softly and he gave a nod, fingers ghosting over the burn marks.
“Welcome to Avengers Airline,” Sam’s voice crackled through the intercom, “this is your Captain speaking. Please take your seats and stow away your tray tables. There won’t be drink or snack service on this flight since someone won’t allow any food on board.”
“You got a med kit on here?” Bucky asked Steve and Natasha as you lowered down into a seat. Natasha nodded, pulling a small white box from a compartment in the wall and tossing it to Bucky who caught it with ease. He sat next to you, turning both your seats so you're facing each other.
“It’s not bad,” you said, looking at the cuts on his cheek and blood on his forehead.
“Liar,” he mumbled. Your hand rose instinctively but he caught it before you could touch his skin with a shake, “no. I’ll heal in a few hours.”
“Bucky,” you said as he searched for the box for something until he found a small packet.
“None of that,” he said, “this won’t burn but it will sting.”
“It’s alright,” you said softly, letting him extend your neck to start applying it to the small burns lining your neck. The jet roared to life and took off yet you barely felt a thing. Not with Bucky’s metal hand on your jaw gently guiding your neck to move so he could get it all on. Once he was satisfied and wrapped gauze around your neck he finally turned to look behind you where the rest of the Avengers sat. His gaze hardened but nothing was said.
“You should rest,” he said softly.
“I don’t know if I can,” you mumbled.
“C’mere.” It was instinctual the way you got out of your seat and climbed into his lap. Your face hid in his neck as he wrapped his arms around you. There had been plenty of times you had done this for warmth, a few times for comfort. You tried to ignore the gazes burning holes in your back as Bucky’s grip tightened when the jet bounced. You kept fighting sleep, but it was becoming harder with his warmth against your cheek. The feeling of his heartbeat against your hand. The lul of the jet. Without even realizing it your eyes slipped closed.
He knew the exact moment you fell asleep. Felt the evening of your breath against his collar and the loosening of your muscles. He heard the slowing of your heart beat as you finally settled. Only then did he look up from where Steve had been staring, having turned his seat around to face the two of you rather than the cockpit. It wasn’t in curiosity or rudeness. It just was. There was a softness in his gaze Bucky hadn’t seen since before the war.
“She asleep?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Bucky said softly.
“Hydra made her?” He asked and Bucky hummed. “There wasn’t much on her. Just that she wasn’t the first.”
“I don’t remember any others,” he said thoughtfully, “is anyone looking for her?”
“No,” Steve said solemnly, “DNA had no matches, she didn’t fit any missing persons.”
“She wouldn’t, not now. You have to look back farther,” he said, “they put her in cryo-freeze.”
“How far back?”
“Not sure,” he tried to narrow down a date, anything specific like a mission he knew happened around the time he met you but there was just blanks, “long time.”
“This isn’t going to be easy, for either of you,” Steve said.
“I know,” Bucky said, “Tony said you’re working on a pardon for me. What about her?”
“Technically, she hasn’t done anything wrong,” Steve said, “No missions, nothing.”
“Just help me.”
“That’s not on any record. Not even what she can do,” Steve said and Bucky sagged in relief. It had been on both of your minds for months. Did the world know what you could do? It put pressure on him to keep you hidden more so than himself. If he got caught he’d face some international prison, fine. It was what he probably deserved. But you would be exploited, studied. Who wouldn’t want to get their hands on someone who can heal? How far would they push you? What would it do to you? Bucky didn’t want to think about it too long now that he knew even Hydra didn’t put pen to paper on what your abilities were.
“You gonna tell me what she can do?” Steve asked.
“Not here,” Bucky said, “not now.”
“Understood,” Steve said and slowly began to turn his seat around, “for the record, you should get some sleep too. Med team is waiting for both of you at the Compound.”
“I’ll be just in the next room,” Bucky said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you glared at the med team like they had personally offended you, “it won’t be long, Lisichka, I promise.”
“Bucky,” your voice was so low, so scared and when your gaze shifted back to him he almost caved. “Please.”
“What if you examined them together?” Steve asked.
“It’s important they separate–”
“No,” Bucky growled.
“Barnes,” Dr. Cho said as she approached, “as long as you both behave we can evaluate you together.”
Bucky didn’t know what to expect when it was your turn. For him it was normal, Hydra had evaluated him plenty of times before. But their hands were gentler this time. All while you stood with your back to the wall next to Steve, shifting your weight from left to right. So when Dr. Cho nodded for you to come over he half expected for you to resist but you walked over and sat on the bed. You were calm. At least until they brought out the needle from bloodwork. It was like they had flipped a coin and you were that scared woman back in Hydra. You whimpered and shifted away from them. They took a few steps closer and you slid far back enough to fall off the bed, if Bucky hadn’t rushed forward to catch you.
“What’s that for?” You asked, eyeing the needle.
“Just routine bloodwork,” Dr. Cho assured you, the look you gave Bucky nearly broke his heart in two. You didn’t know what “routine” bloodwork was. As far as he knew all you knew was Hydra and routine never meant anything good.
“It’s ok,” Bucky assured you, helping you back to the bed. This time he held your arm as they drew blood. Even as it trembled in his gentle grip. But he knew they had to do this, you two were done being on the run and all he wanted for you was normalcy. Or as much of it as you can achieve.
“There,” Dr. Cho said softly, pressing a cotton ball to your inner elbow and a bandaid over it, “I think we’re done for today. Why don’t you two get some rest?”
“Thank you,” Bucky said and watched with careful eyes as Dr. Cho and the rest of the med team shuffled out, leaving the two of you with just Steve.
“I never liked getting blood drawn either,” Steve said with a shrug, “I can show you two to your rooms, they’ll be on my floor.”
“Floor?” Bucky gauffed. Hell, they had grown up in the depression with nothing now Steve had a whole floor?
“Rooms?” You whispered.
“If you’re more comfortable in one that’s fine, but I imagine you’ll be wanting your own room soon enough,” Steve said with a soft smile, “c’mon.”
The room was big, bigger than any room Bucky remembers having while growing up. An adjoining bathroom, floor to ceiling windows. He could see every star in the sky being this far out of the city and as he took a step forward he felt your hand slip away from his wrist, instinctively he reached back for it, pulling you along with him.
“Nat and I pulled some things together for you two to borrow,” Steve said, “it’s in the closet for you. My room is the door right across from yours. If you two need anything, absolutely anything, come find me. I think Tony is ordering an ungodly amount of pizza if you’re up for it.”
“Thank you,” you said softly, walking towards where all the clothes were laid out. Bucky watched as your fingers ran over the different fabrics until you pulled a few pieces, probably the most comfortable ones. Your soft footfalls echoed through the room until they disappeared in the bathroom. Bucky waited for the run of the water to start before turning to look at Steve.
“What the conditions of all this,” Bucky said, “pardon or not, it’s never that easy.”
“You let us worry about that,” Steve said, “for the both of you.”
“Steve, I don’t know if I’m worth all this,” Bucky admitted quietly, the words burning his tongue.
“What about her?”
“Of course she is.”
“All those things you did, that wasn’t you,” Steve said.
“But I did it,” Bucky said looking away.
“You took care of me my whole life, Buck,” Steve said softly, resting one hand on his shoulder right where under his shirt metal was welded to flesh, “let me take care of you.”
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
The entire way to Berlin Bucky’s mind raced. All he could think of was you. Lisichka, his fox. Waiting for him in that cold cemetery. Waiting for him to show up. Part of him prays you eventually move on, keep going without him. Maybe find a place to settle. Lay low. But he knows that was impossible. Black Widow had dumped Hydra’s files on the internet, including the ones about you. Someone somewhere would find you and use what you could do for their selfish reasons. It made his stomach roll the thought of you being forced to heal person after person as it took its mounting toll on you. A shaky breath left him as the back of the truck opened, light flooding his vision. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles weren’t strong enough to hold him but he was tired of fighting. He’d never get free from here and to you without being traced. No, in his desperation he would forget every precaution on account to get to you faster.
“Winter Soldier huh? Doesn’t look too intimidating like this,” he heard a guard grumble in German. It made him look forward to where Steve was stepping out of a black van with Sam. No longer in his uniforms, of course they had been given the chance to change. Prisoners didn’t get that luxury. There was something in Steve’s eyes when they met that made him falter. He expected anger, pity, and sympathy. But there was something else he couldn’t name.
Until he saw you being dragged out a van that parked behind the one Steve had gotten out of. His heart slammed in chest seeing your tear stained cheeks, the scrape on one of them. Fury pumped through his veins and the cuffs creaked under his growing unrestrained anger. They had gotten to you. Had hurt you, scared you, and by the way Steve was snapping at a man in a suit, handling you just as roughly as they were him. He would’ve broke free right there, would’ve ignored the current of electricity that prickled at his skin when he fought against the restraints. But then you gave him the most subtle shake of your head. One no one would’ve noticed, would’ve chalked it off to you gathering your bearings, but Bucky knew what it meant. So even though it killed him he relaxed back into his seat. Watched them as they kept dragging you away, a satisfaction filling him seeing how you dug your feet and made their job as possible. Until the collar around your neck buzzed to life and you fell to the ground, muscles tensed and shaking with the electricity no doubt being burned through you. Steve yelled something as he strode over and Bucky jolted against his restraints.
“His Fox,” the guard sneered, “probably his chew toy with Hydra.”
He scowled as they pushed him away, only looking away when he saw Steve help you sit up all while yelling at the man in the suit. Good. Steve was on your side. You had him. If he even suspected you were something to Bucky, he knew Steve would guard you with his life just as he would. You would be fine. So he let out a breath he was holding and leaned his head back against the headrest.
“I’m not letting you take her into a damn cell,” Steve snapped, “she’s a victim.”
Ross wasn’t letting up, no matter how much you fought. How many more shocks they gave you even if Steve fought against each one. Eventually he had convinced them to let you go with him. He was a super soldier, you weren’t. He could handle you. The files said you could heal, nothing more. So why did they keep treating you like a weapon? His question was answered when he noticed how they had made Bucky’s pod linger enough to see what they were doing to you. They were trying to control him using you, it made Steve seethe. How many times has Hydra done that? They were supposed to be better but he saw nothing but the same behavior with a different facade.
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked once your cuffs were moved from behind your back to connect to the table in front of you. Your head rested against the cool surface of the table and Steve pressed his lips together.
“Barnes is fine,” Tony’s voice said, sharing a glance with Steve.
One glance at you and Tony ripped up his copy of the Accords, telling everyone he could off, before locking himself into the interrogation room where Steve, Sam, and Sharon had holed up. He had tried to pick the lock on your collar but that just earned you another shock.
“Do you know?” You whispered, looking at Tony with tired eyes, “what he did?”
“I know it all,” Tony answered and looked at Steve.
That night had been…hard. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of fighting, but even more sobbing. It wasn’t easy telling Tony the truth about how his parents had died. But after a while it turned into resolve. A clear head. And helping Steve with the search. Even if the Accords had been a bump in the road.
“Then you know he won’t be fine,” You whispered, weakly tugging at the handcuffs. Steve had nearly wrung someone’s neck when he caught a glance at how bruised and raw your wrists were.
“We’ll get him good lawyers, a plea–”
“They’ll never let him free,” your voice trailed off as you stared at the screen that now was occupied with the footage from Bucky’s cell.
Bucky should’ve known this psychiatrist was full of shit when he sat down in his badly tailored suit. Should’ve known when the power went out and he didn’t start to freak out about being in a room with the Winter Soldier who could use that opportunity to get free. But then he started saying those words, those fucking words, and he could feel himself slipping. Feel the darkness trying to take hold even as he fought back. No, this couldn’t happen. Not while they still had her. Not while he still had to save her.
I can save her, the dark purred. Bucky’s lip trembled as he felt himself slip away and into the Soldier.
When the glass door fell through and the glass cracked Bucky fell to his knees, but it was the Soldier that stood back up.
“Soldat?” The man asked. His head tilted towards him. “Mission Report, December 16th, 1991.”
“Where is she?” He growled, taking a step closer.
“Ready to comply, Soldat? Mission report–” He didn’t let the man finish his sentence as he wrapped his metal hand around his throat.
“Where. Is. She.”
Guards flooded the room but he only had one thought in his mind, Lisichka, he had to get to her before they sent her to sleep again. So he tossed the man aside and turned towards the doors. He took them down easily, one by one, sometimes two at a time. But they fell as he made his way through them. The man tried to call him back, called him and tried to say the words again. But he had his mission. Knew what he had to do. Nothing would stop him.
You watched the chaos around you, still cuffed to the table even as everyone scrambled when Sharon said something you weren’t listening to. You gave a tug but burning shot up your arm. A hiss escaped you and that caught Natasha’s attention. The former Black Widow who had sat by your side and not moved until the chaos began.
“Oh for fucks sake, Tony her cuffs,” Natasha snapped.
“Dammit,” Tony cursed and whatever enveloped his hand shot a beam of right that freed your wrists. “Stay here.”
“I can help,” you said as you stood, “I can stop him.”
“He’s not himself,” Natasha warned but started leading you towards wherever Bucky had gone, you knew.
“I can stop him,” you said softly.
Natasha was a powerful force in the chaos. It parted ways for her to walk through, you behind as he held your hand in a loose hold. One you could easily break but you wouldn't without Bucky and she could take you to him. Wherever she was taking you, the chaos was getting louder. Gunfire, fighting, things breaking. Then he was there. Powerful, volatile, feral. All things the Winter Soldier was not Bucky. But you still nodded to Natasha. Tony stunned him and that was when Natasha pushed you forward.
Bucky whipped around, ready to continue the fight, but lowered the gun when he caught sight of you. He grabbed a guard who ran at him by the throat, tossing him aside like a wet reg and closed the space between the two of you.
“Lisichka,” he whispered, his voice gravelier and more ragged than when he wasn’t in the Soldier state of mind. His flesh hand dropped the gun and rose to cup your cheek. His thumb traced over the tear stains still there.
“Bucky,” you said softly, your hand rising to grab his hand but he quickly drew it back knowing what you were instinctively going to do.
“We need to go,” he said.
“We can be safe here,” you said, glancing at Steve, “he can help us.”
“I need to protect you,” he said, glowering down at you but you knew it was how he showed worry.
“And you will,” you said, “do you trust me?”
“With everything,” Bucky breathed out.
“Then come with me,” You said, grabbing his metal hand.
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
That morning had been quiet. When Bucky had rolled over the first thing he saw was you. Your hair fanned out against the pillow, sticking up in different directions, and your face slack with sleep. Before he could stop it he felt a soft smile tug at his lips as he brushed some of your hair back. Some light was bleeding through the newspaper he had covered the windows with but the apartment was still dim. Cold. So when he slipped out of bed he made sure to pull the covers tightly over you. He walked over to the meager kitchen and looked around. He’d need to go out to the market for more things. Sooner rather than later. He could go and make it back before you woke up but he hated leaving you alone whenever it was time to settle in a new place.
“Bucky?” Your voice was raspy with sleep.
“Hm?”
“Market?”
“Didn’t know mind reading was a skill you had too,” he said as he rounded the breakfast bar.
“You’ve been staring at the bare cabinets for the last few minutes,” you said, sitting up, “so, a little trip to the market?”
“I can go–”
“And leave me here? No.”
“It’s cold outside,” he said softly, “that jacket you have doesn’t warm you up much.”
The sight of you in the thin jacket you managed to steal made him think of a thin frame back in Brooklyn. Of shaking hands and pulling scarves tighter around pale throats. It made his heart clench but the look in your eye told him he was going to lose that battle so he relented. Let you layer yourself up, watching in interest as you grabbed a hold of one of his blue henleys. It swallowed you whole but he watched as you pulled it over your head anyways.
“Won’t be cold anymore,” you said with a shrug, pulling on your jacket, “market?”
“Yeah, market,” he breathed out.
The walk was quiet. You two didn’t need many words most of the time. Words got you in trouble with Hydra, and trouble meant punishment. When you were still in their hold you both would find different ways to communicate. Knocks. Glances. Even breathing patterns. Things that they wouldn’t pick up on. Things he used to try to protect you, things you used to try and break past his programming. With the extra layer you weren’t shivering as much but he could still the chill still bit at your skin. He’d have to buy or steal you a new jacket soon. Stealing had a risk of getting caught, getting caught was not an option.
“What should we get?” You hummed, motioning for a fruit stand, “more plums?”
Bucky walked over to where you motioned, keeping you in the corner of his eyesight as you leaned over to look at the flowers. After a while you tapped him, pointing towards a deep freeze with the words ICE CREAM painted on the side. You stared at him and he motioned with his head for you to go on. Not that you needed a command or permission, but Bucky knew it made you feel better to know he was watching; aware of where you were heading. Just as he was done and getting ready to cross and meet you, he could feel a prickle on his neck. The sensation that told him he was being watched. He could see a man in a small newspaper stand staring at him, then glancing down, then back at him. Shit. With a quick glance up to make sure you were still safe, Bucky walked towards you. Yet the man jumped back, eventually running out of the booth. You were still deep in thought staring at the ice creams. Bucky brushed past, grabbing the newspaper the man had discarded.
The sight made his blood run cold. The headline was about him and some bombing, but he had been here with you. The words hadn’t triggered him and you sure as hell wouldn’t have done it to him. He abandoned the paper and turned, grabbing your upper arm and starting to walk briskly back towards the apartment.
“Bucky?” You questioned, struggling to keep up. Part of him felt bad, the other part screamed in urgency that he needed to get out of there. He needed to get you out of there.
“You remember what to do if I got recognized?” He asked and you stopped walking.
“What are you saying?”
“Do you remember?” He stressed, staring down into your eyes for a desperate moment.
“Yes,” your voice was small, scared. He gave you a tight nod.
“I’m sorry, Lisichka,” he breathed out, pushing something into your hand, “but I will find you, okay? Just follow the plan.”
The plan. The plan. Your mind was racing as Bucky turned you away from him and gave you a gentle shove to get you going. Right, the plan. The plan you two came up with upon arriving at every new location. This time it hadn’t been any different. Roundabout route to final destination, a few intertwined stops to get anyone following you to fall behind, and finally the location you had set on to meet at. It changed every time. Sometimes it was a hostel, other times it was a park. This time something twisted in your stomach as you remember where it was this time. A cemetery. Who would bother a mourner? Yet you didn’t get far into your route before you were yanked backwards with a hand on your mouth. The cry you let out had been muffled against a tactical glove. Tactical gloves. Everywhere your eyes shifted you saw helmets, armor, guns. Your eyes burned. You had been caught. Bucky would get away and while you knew, you knew he’d come back for you, how long would it take this time?
The man was snapping at you in a language you didn’t understand. Eventually they roughly turned you around and pressed you against a wall hard enough to crush the breath out of your lungs and snap cuffs on your wrist and a collar around your neck. It made your movements limited and a whimper escaped your throat. The brick scraped at the soft skin of your cheek. The red color was the same as the matching red henley Bucky had on. Would you see him again? Or was this the end for you two? They only pulled you off the brick long enough to throw you into a waiting van.
Your mind was racing. Even as the van jolted to a start and tears poured down your cheeks your mind was on Bucky. If he made it. What would he think when he realized you didn’t? Or did he think you would’ve run away without him? No, no Bucky wouldn’t think that. But the cuffs were too tight around your wrist and the collar was starting to feel suffocating. You managed to push yourself onto one of the seats in the back of the van, watching the city fly by as it raced down the streets. As soon as the van stopped you tumbled to the side, crying out as you struggled to stop from falling onto the floor. When the doors flew open the last person you expected to see on the other side of them was Captain America being shoved into the van with you. Albeit, his entrance was much more graceful than yours.
“Fuck,” Another man cursed as he was pushed in before the doors were slammed shut. Your eyes snapped between the two of them rapidly. Captain America easily snapped his cuffs off and removed his helmet. Steve. Steve. This was Bucky’s Steve. You had peaked in Bucky’s journals before, looking over his shoulder as he scribbled. His best friend. His brother. Yet when he looked over at you all you could do was swallow and stare.
“You have to be shitting me, there’s no way,” The other man asked but your throat ran dry as your lips moved but nothing came out.
“Wait,” Steve’s voice was tired, rough, but there was recognition in it, “Fox?”
You shook your head, no. They couldn’t know about you. No one but the higher ups in Hydra,, your handler, and Bucky knew about you. You were a secret never meant to get out. An experiment that could repeated when you eventually gave out.
“No,” you whispered, “no you’re not supposed to know me.”
“That’s why he went back to D.C.,” the other man said as Steve snapped the chain holding his cuffs together, “before disappearing for good. He went back for her.”
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked.
“You’re alright,” Steve said softly, helping you sit upright. His touch was gentle, so much like Bucky’s and nothing like the men who threw you in there. When he moved towards your handcuffs you were pushed away from him. If they took yours off you’d be in trouble, trouble meant punishment. And there was no Bucky to save you.
“Where’s Bucky?” You asked again.
“We’ll get you to him,” Steve said gently, “they won’t keep him.”
And just like that your worst fear had come to life. Bucky had been caught. You had been caught. There was no one coming to save you this time.
Summary: You were his healer, his shadow. His Lisichka. You had been with him during the darkest times and when it came to break free, there was no way he would leave without you.
It was quiet in the apartment. All Bucky could hear was your soft breathing and the patter of rain against the window. He couldn’t sleep, not with his mind racing the way it was. They had spent the better part of the last month trying to cross the Atlantic into Europe. Steve was on his tail, his memory was so fragmented he couldn’t tell if it was a bad or good thing. Whatever it was, he knew he couldn’t drag you into it. Not when she was just starting to heal. Every time he looked at you all he could think was he had to protect you. Nothing could take you from him, not again. Your cheeks were starting to fill out again and you didn’t spend the whole day asleep, you were getting better and nothing could get in the way of that. Not even his past.
“Bucky?” Your voice was soft from the lone mattress pressed against the wall and far away from any window.
“Lisichka,” he said just as low and walked over to you from where he was leaning against the window frame, looking and searching for any sign of anyone having followed him.
“You need to sleep,” you mumbled, your head sinking into the thin pillow. His lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he wanted nothing more than to lay next to you but he had to keep looking, keep checking.
“I need-”
“I’m cold,” you said, cracking one eye open to see his expression. He knew what you were doing but still found himself pulling the blanket back and sliding in next to you. Your skin was cold against his skin as you curled into his chest, your hand resting against the warm skin of his neck. Your fingers ghosted over his pulse point. It was something you did often. A reminder that he was real, that he wasn’t another hallucination. It made his heart sink every time you did. How many times had you imagined him being there when you were alone?
“We’ll go somewhere warmer,” Bucky said softly, a promise. But deep down he knew it was a lie. Bucharest was their next destination. They had almost caught them when they stayed in one place too long. It was creeping on three weeks since he first brought you here and they needed to keep moving. He felt your breathing even against his chest. As much as he fought to stay awake, sleep eventually won as he sank deeper into his bed with his arm securely wrapped around you.
You hated when Bucky thought they were following you. It made him extra paranoid, extra jumpy, and ready to snap into a fight. Despite your assurances that they were only staring at him because of his size, you knew he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. It was evident as you walked towards the newest apartment you two had moved into. His arm was securely around your shoulders as he tried to fasten up the pace.
“Do you think we can get a christmas tree this time?” You asked. Last time the both of you were still too fresh out of Hydra to realize it was the holidays. Or to really remember how to celebrate them.
“What would we do with it after?” He asked, looking around.
“Don’t know, leave it there?”
“Seems like a hazard,” he said.
“Obviously we unplug the lights,” you said as he turned you into the building.
“So it has lights too?” He asked as you climbed the stairs.
“They all have lights,” you reasoned, “so should ours.”
“Lisichka,” he drawled as you finally got into the apartment. It was not much warmer inside than out but Bucky made it a point to move with the blankets you had collected. If they had to leave them behind it was always the first thing he went out to get. So as he set down the small amount of food from the market you had bought together you wrapped yourself in a blanket and sat on the mattress. You knew what he would do next. He’d try to piece together parts of his memory as you watched. Your memory had shown no signs of returning. It made you think if you had anything to remember in the first place. What if you had spent your entire life at Hydra? Part of you wants to know where you came from but the other half thought it was best to leave it unknown.
“1940s, huh?” You questioned as he flipped through his journal.
“I can remember snippets,” he mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in concentration from where he sat on the floor with his back against the mattress. You instinctively leaned against his back, crossing your hands on his shoulder and resting your head on them.
“Brooklyn?”
“It’s what that museum said,” he mumbled, his pen scribbling an address that he couldn’t seem to get right. The number or street changed or even if it was an avenue, boulevard, or if it was a street. If you two ever returned to New York you told him he should go but he always refused, terrified of what he would find there.
“You don’t sound like they do in the movies,” you said and you can see his mouth quirk up into the ghost of a smirk.
“Maybe it wasn’t around back then,” he said.
“Doubt it,” you said, “maybe Hydra trained it out of you.”
“Maybe,” he said softly. He used to get angry when you said things like that but you couldn’t help yourself from being blunt, being honest. Hydra had never let you before and now it was like you couldn’t stop. Bucky had grown used to it, part of you wondered if he appreciated it.
“If it comes back,” you said, "wouldn't that be funny? If you just woke up one morning with a thick Brooklyn accent?”
“What if you woke up with an accent?” he asked, “What would you choose?”
“I don’t know,” you said softly, “maybe southern, I would call you honey or something.”
“Southern, huh?” He questioned and leaned his head back to get a better view of you.
“Southern,” you confirmed, “like that blonde lady with the big hair in the movie we saw a few weeks ago.”
“Dolly Parton?”
“Yeah her,” you nodded.
“We’ll have to leave here soon.”
“We’re not going somewhere warmer are we?” You asked when his shoulders tensed.
“Bucharest.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to Romania, and if I have I don’t remember,” you said with a shrug. Bucky let out a small huff that could’ve been a laugh. “Wonder what we’ll find there.”
I'd really like to know Bucky’s thought process behind knitting himself out the first time with the same weaponry as when he was the Winter Soldier.
He went from not killing in TFATWS, short hair, and dressing in a blue jacket reminiscent of his Commandos uniform.
Now he's dressing in all black again with a leather jacket and long hair and carrying the same knives and Skorpion and pistols and grenades.
There had to be a huge mindfuck for him to do that - AS he did that. As he got dressed - with the memories of what those weapons meant and what he was and what he did when he carried them as the Winter Soldier.
I'd love to read a fanfic that encompasses that thought process and that moment in time.
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