“plutarch seems genuinely happy, saying he's going to be able to edit the clips together into some fine propos. he sighs when he mentions the tools that were abolished and incapacitated in the past, ones deemed fated to destroy humanity because of their ability to replicate any scenario using any person. ‘and in mere seconds!’ he snaps his fingers to emphasize their speed. ‘i guess it was the right thing to do, given our natures. we almost wiped ourselves out even without them, so you can imagine. but oh, the possibilities!’”
Finding Your Roots- Chapter 14, Page 1
Welcome to Chapter 14! Did anyone miss these guys as much as I did..?
FYR will update Tuesdays and Fridays for June. Please enjoy this proper introduction into Book 3!
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Cover
Content Warnings
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Story and Art by @saltnpepperbunny
Summary: After slowly reintegrating into the compound, you begin to share quiet, meaningful moments with the rest of the team including Bucky. However, doubt creeps in as you start to wonder if his attention is only because she is no longer around.
Word Count: 1.9k+
Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist
As time passed, the days didn’t feel so sharp anymore.
They weren’t exactly comfortable yet, but the air didn’t bite when you walked into a room now. People looked at you differently. Not in awe, or suspicion, or even pity.
They looked at you like you existed, like you were seen, like you mattered.
And the most surprising part?
You were starting to believe it.
It started small.
Bruce had gently roped you into reviewing logs from his portable monitoring systems. Wanda asked if you’d go on a walk with her when the air was too heavy in her head. Clint dropped by with bad snacks and worse jokes. He always left too fast, like staying longer would make it real.
But Bucky?
Bucky stayed.
Every day that week, he’d stopped by your door. No expectations. No plans. Sometimes with coffee, sometimes with a question, or sometimes with silence that didn’t feel like an absence.
You never told him no.
And by Thursday, you’d stopped waiting for him to knock. You were already waiting by the door when he arrived, and he never said anything about it, just gave a small nod and started walking.
You followed.
That morning, the two of you sat on the south-facing balcony just off the training floor, nursing tea neither of you particularly liked. The sunrise spilled amber light through the clouds, and for once, the compound felt still.
He didn’t ask you deep questions. You didn’t offer any revelations. It wasn’t like the old movies where damaged people stitched each other up in one grand moment.
You were just sitting. Together. Safe, quiet, and alive.
“I never liked this place much,” Bucky muttered after a long stretch of silence.
You glanced over at him. “The compound?”
He gave a small shrug. “It was always too clean. Too… polished. Never felt like it was meant for people like me.”
You gave a soft hum. “I used to think the same thing, like I was some uninvited guest waiting to get caught in someone else’s spotlight.”
He looked at you then. Not hard or apologetic, but the words that followed were full of sincerity.
“You never belonged in the shadows.”
Your heart beat too loud in your ears. You looked away.
“Neither did you,” You whispered.
The silence after that wasn’t awkward. It was weighted and full.
You finished your tea as he did too. Then, as he stood, he glanced back down at you.
“You doing anything tonight?”
You raised a brow. “Is that code for a mission or…?”
He cracked a small smile. “No. Just thought maybe you’d want to join the rest of us. It’s movie night. Clint picked something terrible, and I figured you should suffer with the rest of us.”
You smirked. “That’s the most compelling argument you’ve made so far.”
“So…?”
You nodded. “Yeah, alright.”
“Cool,” He said, stepping back. “See you then.”
And just like that, he was gone again. But the warmth stayed.
Not from the tea. Not from the sunrise. Just from the realization that for the first time in a long time, you were being invited to something.
Movie night was exactly what Bucky promised: a chaotic mess of over-salted popcorn, bad lighting, and Clint loudly quoting every line of the terrible action flick like it was Shakespeare.
You sat near the edge of the couch, half-curled into a blanket Wanda had tossed at you without comment. Bucky sat a few feet away, arms crossed, and trying not to smile at the absurd explosions on screen.
It wasn’t cozy yet, but it was safe.
And maybe that was more than enough.
In the mornings, you helped Bruce catalog long-forgotten samples from the lower labs. In the evenings, you found yourself eating in the kitchen instead of your room. Some nights you’d wander the halls late, listening to the low hum of the ventilation or the sound of distant laughter from the gym.
You saw Wanda, Clint, Steve, Sam, and occasionally Natasha, slipping through like a shadow and offering you a curt nod in greeting.
And Bucky was always steady, always there in small, quiet ways; making room for you. But sometime around the middle of the week, you noticed something.
She wasn’t there.
The woman Bucky had once cared for. The one who smiled with soft confidence and made you feel small without ever raising her voice.
You hadn’t seen her in the cafeteria or during debriefs. Not walking the halls or tending the plants she used to keep.
At first, you thought maybe it was coincidence. Maybe you were avoiding her without realizing it. Perhaps the compound was just big enough that two people could simply… miss each other.
But then three more days passed.
And still, nothing.
One afternoon, you passed by the comms room where she used to sit during rotation and found it empty. The glass teacup she always used was gone from its usual shelf in the lounge. The spare keycard hook on the access board read:
Status: Revoked
You stood in the hallway longer than you meant to, something unsettling turning over in your chest.
No announcement had been made. No debrief. No confrontation. No trial.
Just… absence. At least, to your information.
You didn’t bring attention to it yet, but your brain cataloged it all anyway.
She hadn’t been escorted out publicly. She hadn’t been arrested that you knew of. And yet… her clearance was pulled. Her name was off the board and somehow no one mentioned her.
It was as if she’d been quietly erased.
You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or unnerved.
The hum of the reinforced glass filled the stillness.
Below, two junior agents ran combat drills loud enough to fill the silence with the rhythmic slap of boots and the dull thud of padded hits. You stood at the edge of the wide viewing window, arms folded loosely, gaze drifting.
Sam joined you halfway through the second round.
“Thought I’d find you up here,” He said lightly, passing you a bottle of water. “Word on the floor is you’re the mysterious ‘coffee ghost’ who keeps vanishing before anyone can say hello.”
You offered a faint smile. “I’m easing back in. Stealth mode helps.”
He chuckled, leaning against the railing beside you. “You’re not the only one figuring things out again.”
The agents below reset their stance. Your fingers toyed with the plastic cap of the bottle.
Then you asked quietly, “Hey… do you know what happened to her?”
He blinked. “Her who?”
You hesitated. “The woman who used to be around a lot, close… to Bucky. Smart, kind of always knew what to say and smiled a lot. I think… I think she spoke to me once.”
Sam’s brows knit faintly. He didn’t answer at first.
Then: “Oh.”
That one word told you everything you needed to know.
“She’s gone?” You asked, even though you already knew.
“Yeah.” He exhaled slowly. “Sort of. Officially she’s… being held elsewhere. Off-site.”
“Elsewhere,” You repeated, voice flat.
He glanced at you. “It’s not really public info. But she’s not in the wind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I wasn’t,” You lied.
He didn’t call you on it.
“She always seemed so…” You trailed off, trying to find the word. “Certain.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. That was the mask.”
You looked over at him.
“She really got to you,” He said, not unkindly. “The way she talked, the way she knew things. But not everything she gave away was free or honest.”
“She only ever spoke to me once,” You said, frowning. “It wasn’t even much. Just… a passing moment, but it stuck.”
“Because she made you feel seen.”
You didn’t answer.
He glanced down at the agents below. “We all missed it.”
“She said she cared about him.”
Sam looked at you again. His eyes soft, but unreadable. “Maybe she did, but doesn’t mean she truly did… or cared about the rest of us.”
You turned back to the window, the weight of that sitting cold on your shoulders.
He didn’t push the conversation further. Just stood beside you as the drills wrapped up and the buzzer sounded.
Before leaving, he added quietly, “Some people… they know how to find the cracks in a place. But that doesn’t mean they’re trying to fix them.”
Then he left you alone again. And the silence left behind felt larger than ever.
After that conversation, you weren’t sleeping again.
Not for lack of trying, but your mind was filled with thoughts. Too many of them, too loud, too persistent. You’d hoped a trip to the gym would help tire them out, but after half an hour of half-hearted pacing on the treadmill, you gave up.
Now you sat on the upper balcony overlooking the empty floor, legs pulled up to your chest with your water bottle forgotten beside you.
Then you heard footsteps. You didn’t look up. You already knew who it was.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” Bucky’s voice was soft behind you.
You shrugged. “Something like that.”
He sat a few feet away like always, not too close, not too far. Familiar.
“I figured you’d be on mission rotation this week,” You said, staring out at the dark mats and deactivated equipment.
“Opted out.” A pause. “Didn’t feel right leaving.”
You hummed, unsure what to say to that. You could feel the edge of a question pricking your mind, but you didn’t let it out. Not yet.
He rested his arms on his knees. “You’ve been quiet lately.”
“I’m always quiet.”
He smirked faintly. “Yeah, but this week it’s the kind of quiet that echoes.”
You didn’t mean to ask. But the words tumbled out anyway, raw and too real.
“Would you still be around if she hadn’t disappeared?”
Silence.
You looked away, heart hammering suddenly in your chest. You hadn’t even planned to say it. It just came.
When he finally answered, his voice was slow, careful. “What do you mean?”
“I mean…” You swallowed hard. “You used to be close with her and now she’s gone. And suddenly you’re… here, talking to me, bringing me coffee, sitting with me at movie nights…”
You didn’t say caring. You weren’t sure you could handle the answer if you did.
Bucky didn’t answer right away either. The air and silence between you stretched for what felt like ages.
When he finally spoke, it wasn’t defensive. It was low and honest.
“I’m not here because she’s gone.”
You waited.
“I’m here because I should’ve been before,” He continued. “And I didn’t realize it until it was too late to fix what I missed.”
You clenched your jaw, voice quiet. “So I’m a guilt project.”
He turned his head toward you, eyebrows drawing together. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”
You didn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m not trying to earn points,” He added. “I’m not here because I feel bad. I’m here because I see you now. And I want to.”
That made something twist in your chest: warm, aching, and uncertain.
“But would you have looked if she were still here?” You whispered.
He hesitated for a moment but he didn’t lie.
“I don’t know.”
The honesty hurt, but so would anything else.
You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s what I thought.”
He leaned back, looking at the ceiling now, sighing softly. “I don’t know what that says about me. But I know what it says about you.”
You looked over.
“That you were worth seeing the whole damn time.”
You didn’t answer, but your throat felt tight. And your hands were trembling just a little where they rested on your knees.
You weren’t sure if you believed him, but some part of you wanted to.
