"Tony Stark was running out of ideas. No matter what he came up with, Alina remained in her coma—until she suddenly woke. She had no recollection of what she had done or who she had saved. Alina believed she had been rescued from Hydra's facility in Austria, in 1943."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 3/?
Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Sharon Carter (Marvel), Original Characters, Reader, Doctor List (Marvel), Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Helen Cho (Marvel), Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Andrew Garner, Daniel Whitehall
Additional Tags: u gotta know what its like to have the og team cap from catws be in a mission together, to be properly tagged later, Enhanced Reader, what do i put in the tag really
Summary:
Summary: Hi, this is going to be my first multi chapter story with an original character. It follows the the story of a girl going through the trial and tribulations of life while trying to understand not only herself and her Inhuman powers but others around her. The story will also follow the story line of Bucky Barnes and his time as the Winter Soldier. This story will have the theme of soulmates but it does not dominate the storyline. I really hope all that read enjoy it. I will also be listing the songs I used to write each chapter. Frankie. xoxo
Warnings: None for this chapter.
Tags: Original Character x Bucky Barnes/ Winter Soldier
My mother was a beautiful woman, her face was soft and youthful, her eyes were a warm, swirling hazel. She had a smile that would cause her eyes to crinkle ever so slightly. Her full laugh would always bring joy to my ears as she spun me in the air, her head always thrown back to let her body bask in the sun. My small squeal of a laugh following hers as my feet brushed the long grass. She was the best person I had ever met.
There was nothing she wouldn't do to help others, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect the ones she loved.
***********
She was an intelligent woman moving fast through the educational system, people who knew her in her former life would refer to her as gifted, a gifted young woman with lots of potential to go far. She had started to work for NASA as a mathematical and theoretical biologist specialising in the anatomy and physiology of Inhumans at the age of 23. NASA had become interested in the mythology surrounding a planet light-years away from earth called Maveth. Rumors were that an ancient inhuman called Hive had been exiled there by his people and had all but wiped out the advanced civilization that occupied the planet.
A private, well funded organisation wanted to send some people to Maveth on a top secret, completely need to know only mission through what they believed was the 'portal'. NASA seemed like the most logical place to search for youngish individuals who potentially had a small deathwish. Whilst having a head full of useful knowledge about other planets and the organisms that potentially lived on them. My mother seemed to be the perfect candidate.
So in February of 1994, they sent a team of fourteen or so people including people from NASA, the U.S. military, and a few other organizations that were deemed useful. I remember her telling me about a friend she had made on the trip, Jimmy I think his name was. He would talk about feeling like a pirate because of old maritime law and the international waters' technicality.
My mother never told me about Maveth, only that she had met my father there. She told me he was an Inhuman like me and because of that, I was special and sometimes bad people would want to take advantage of that. I had inherited my father's Kree induced genetic mutation enabling me to have different abilities to normal humans. The thing that both confused and intrigued my mother was that I hadn't gone through terrigenesis which was supposedly the only process of genetic ability awakening for Inhumans, I was born with my abilities making me both a medical mystery and an anomaly.
She would always have a sad glint in her eye whenever she spoke about him. She explained to me once that she and he were soulmates, making them a very rare and desired pairing. Due to consecutive wars, the need for manpower had caused the concept of soulmates to all but die out. Having soulmate parents was one of the only ways in which your child could carry the soulmate gene and have a soulmate. For this reason, people married for companionship and had children who no longer carried the soulmate gene.
***********
My mother and I lived a simple life in solitude on the borders of a small African country called Wakanda. Their technology was far ahead of every other civilisation and due to their technological advances, they could deal with a slightly volatile inhuman child. They offered us security and protection when no one else would. There was always hope of a new day when we were in Wakanda.
One particular night, I awoke crying. The pain of growing gripping my small frame. I remember her soft voice filling my compact bedroom as she entered through the doorway, her arm moving the boldly patterned cloth that covered the opening. Her panic-stricken eyes met mine before they softened with the realisation of what was happening. A perfect caring smile appeared at her mouth, that alone was enough for me to calm slightly knowing my mother was there to protect me.
She moved to my small bed where I lay tangled and sweaty in the thin light blue sheet. “Mama.” My small voice breaking as I called desperately for her as her hand brushed the messy damp tendril of hair from my warm forehead as she kneeled by my bed.
“I'm here my love, what’s wrong Rosie girl?” The cooing of her voice just above a whisper using my nickname to comfort me, her eyes scanned my face, brows slightly raised as she waited for an answer.
“My legs hurt.” A weak sound left my mouth. At my admission of what was wrong, my mother got on the edge of my bed and shuffled us both over. Her back was leaned against the headboard as she pulled me into her side, letting my head lean against her chest where her heartbeat was strong, the steady sound lulling me into a calm state. Her smooth hand began to slowly run up and down my small legs, the warmth from the movement easing the pain slightly. I began to close my eyes at the small amount of relief when I heard humming from my mother, the soft vibrations filling her chest.
Voice just above a whisper she began to sing the soft melodic tune, the words filling my ears. “You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much.” She paused looking down at my face where her eyes met mine. Smiling she leaned her head down to me, her soft full lips pressed to my temple as he continued to mumble into my hair.
“At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive, you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you. Pardon the way that I stare, there's nothin' else to compare, the sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak.” Her free hand came to cup the side of my face drawing me even closer to her warm body as she continued to sing.
“But if you feel like I feel, Please let me know that it's real. You're just too good to be true, Can't take my eyes off of you.” There was a pause in the room as she took a deep breath, the sound of calm wind brushing against the wind chimes that hung on the outside of the small house became noticeable in the peaceful moment.
“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright, I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say.” I closed my eyes slowly as they began to feel heavy, I started to sing along with the words she sang slowly.
“Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray, oh, pretty baby.” Her calming voice met my slurred one as sleep blanketed me.
“Now that I've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby.” She paused to hear my even breathing as my singing stopped, a sigh leaving her body as she began to relax too.
“Let me love you.” The strained whisper left her mouth as she ended with a kiss to my hairline. Sleep overtook us both as we lay on my small cramped bed, basking in the heat of a peaceful Wakandan night.
Summary: Roxy found Bucky. She doesn’t tell anyone. Not even Steve.
Pairing: Bucky x OC (platonic) Steve x OC (established and from afar)
Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mentions of blood, hallucinations, and a fender bender, PTSD and memory issues. Guilt. (I think that’s it?)
Word count: 5900~
A/N: So I’ve been working on a Steve x OC fic for a while, and I had this idea and really wanted to write the interaction with these two and then it ran away from me.
OC is Roxana Mercer. Born with wings and the power of lighting.
Here goes!
~~~~~
“No, no...Ah--” Roxy tried saying the word again, but still received the same hand waving and the same angry phrase. The older woman behind the booth clearly frustrated with this apparent dumb American. Roxy rubbed her hands down her face and took a deep breath. She would not lose her cool with this woman. She would not.
Roxy went to open the translating application when a smooth voice came ringing through the chaos. The man talked with the vendor for a moment before chuckling to himself and turning vivid blue eyes to Roxy.
“She’s been trying to let you know she doesn’t have pineapples as they are out of season and hard to come by,” he said, still grinning. “What were you trying to ask for?”
“Not pineapples. How on earth did I-- nevermind,” Roxy shook her head and looked back to the brunet, “I was asking if she had red apples; all I see are green.”
He nodded and turned once more to the lady. His voice was almost velvet to Roxy’s ears, in stark contrast to the shoulder-length hair, rough stubble on his face, and faded cap. Not to mention his jacket and jeans looked like they had seen better days. In just a few moments, he’d managed to defuse the tense situation and even had the lady giggling as she playfully swatted his arm. She even smiled at Roxy and, according to the translator, apologized for being rude.
The stories were true. Bucky Barnes could charm the pants off just about anyone.
In the end, Roxy had her apples and everyone was breathing a little easier. She stepped away from the booth and her new translator followed suit.
“American, huh?”
“That obvious?”
“Eh,” he tilted his head and smiled, “Your accent wasn’t bad, but from what I heard you need to work on sentence structure. And maybe get the right word.”
Roxy hung her head and nodded. He assured her that with practice she’d be a professional in no time at all. He stood with one hand in his jacket pocket and pointed out some good vendors in the open market, the best in his opinion, most of his weight on one foot and shoulders relaxed. Eyes that were constantly watching their surroundings, crinkled at the corners when he smiled at Roxy. She couldn't help but return the smile.
“Well thank you very much, Mr.--?" Roxy said, holding out her hand. He took a breath and his smile became tight before he shook her hand.
“Just call me Bucky."
“It's nice to meet you, I'm Roxy. Now, if I'm not mistaken, that's a very American accent you got there, Bucky," Roxy said, he hung his head slightly, still grinning.
“Yeah, I'm a transplant. What about you? What brings a lovely dame like yourself to Romania?” he asked. Roxy raised an eyebrow. Oh, this was going to be very interesting.
Five weeks of trying to get him to talk to her. Five weeks of showing him she was not a threat. Five weeks, three times she lost him in the city, four times he threatened her and one time she believed him. One panic attack in the park.
She was fine. Perfectly fine taking pictures of dew on grass, moss on rocks, and one grumpy ex-assassin petting a dog with the biggest grin on his face. She watched as Bucky threw a stick and the scruffy stray bounded after it. She listened as he called the dog a good boy and threw it again.
In her five weeks there she’d seen him be the sweetest customer to vendors and shop owners, effectively terrify three middle school boys from picking on a classmate, and feeding and loving every stray animal in the city. She’d approached him several times and he seemed mostly tolerant of her presence. He hadn’t left the country yet. Some of their conversations were just small talk, twice she’d begged him to translate for her, and some were harsh. Those were the ones where she had tried to get him to open up to her; she talked about Steve, the Commandos, never Hydra. Some days he smiled in remembrance, but never divulged anything on the topics, other days he struggled to understand what she was talking about and told her to fuck off.
Now she was giving him space. It had been ten days since she spoke to him; she had been playing tourist and hadn’t even followed him around. She was surprised to see him at the park that day but decided to get some good pictures of him before going back to her macro shots. A yelp and apologies broke her concentration on a beetle and she saw Bucky helping a lady up and getting a handle on the dog. He threw the stick in another direction before apologizing again and blushing when the lady winked at him as she went on her way. Roxy quickly adjusted her settings and zoomed in on the bashful face of Bucky Barnes. That was definitely one she would show Steve later.
She lowered her camera as a wave of nausea swept over her.
Steve.
Her heart ached and she took a deep breath. It had been five weeks since she’d seen him.
Since she’d lied to him.
She pursed her lips and willed herself not to cry at the thought of it all. Steve, Sam, Roxy, and Natasha had all been working on finding Bucky. Roxy was the one who found a good lead and kept it to herself. She’d scoped it out and by pure happenstance, he had appeared. The story was that the lead was ages cold, but she’d found clues to a suspected Hydra ring and was going undercover to get more information before the team came in guns blazing. Solo. No details. Limited communication. No one liked the idea; even Nat had offered to be backup, but Roxy knew that if anyone else came along, Bucky would run and they would be left at square one.
A scream erupted, tires squealed, and metal crunched against metal. A horn blared and the smell of smoke filled the air. Roxy jerked her head up, adrenaline rushing, ready to fight, but when she saw the tall blond fall out of the car, catching himself and looking her dead in the eyes, everything in her turned to ice.
Steve.
Blood poured down his face onto his shirt. His eyes wide, disoriented and betrayed as an onlooker made to help him up off the concrete. She could barely make out what he was saying: why did you lie to me?
One hand grabbed her shoulder and another forced her to look into steely blue eyes. No green; not Steve’s. Roxy looked back to the accident to see a tall blond man talking to the woman he had rear-ended, but it was not Steve. There was no blood, no betrayal. Then why did her chest hurt?
“Roxy, look at me. Breathe.”
She looked up to the steel-blue eyes again and found concern. Why was Bucky so worried? What scared this gentle puppy?
“Roxy!”
Her voice wouldn’t work. The air around her buzzed and her lungs felt like they were in a vice. Bucky jerked his hand away from her face with a hiss.
Oh.
The breath she took came as a sob. And more followed. Her hands found her camera as she sank to the ground. Bucky moved it to the side and waved someone off.
“We’re okay. Anxiety attack, she’s gonna be okay,” he said to the person before turning back to Roxy, “You’re gonna be okay, doll, c’mon. Just breathe, that’s it.”
She wanted to laugh. The Winter Soldier was helping someone come down from a panic attack and called her ‘doll’. Good Lord. Her mind seemed to catch up before her body did. She coughed and slowed her breathing down. It was another minute of steady breathing before she realized he was rubbing her back and had moved her hair to the side. Roxy sniffed and wiped her face on her jacket sleeve. She grimaced.
“Well, that’s attractive,” she muttered. Bucky chuckled.
“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up, Mercer,” he said, grabbing her camera as he stood and extending a hand. She raised an eyebrow and took his hand. She didn’t remember telling him her last name. He raised an eyebrow back at her and smirked.
“You really think I haven’t done my own recon? I just wanted to see how long you were going to stick it out,” he said, handing over her camera. Roxy nodded as she inspected her equipment to find minimal scratching on the DSL screen; the lens seemed fine.
He started to walk and she followed, wiping tears away with her clean sleeve. Roxy didn’t really notice where he was leading her until she heard the rattling of keys and the creak of the door as he stepped aside so she could enter. She did.
The Winter Soldier let some girl who had been tailing him into his home because she had a panic attack.
What?
Bucky moved some books and newspapers off the couch and offered her a seat. He gave her a water bottle from his fridge and a box of tissues. She blew her nose as he sat down on the other end of the couch. She took a drink once her nose was clear and her face was dry. Silence hung overhead in the apartment and made it feel even smaller. Roxy jolted when she heard a chuckle beside her.
“What?” she asked, looking at the smirking man beside her.
“I know this isn’t the best couch in the world, but you can at least try to relax,” he said, scratching at his growing beard, “If I was gonna kill you, I would’ve done it the day you said ‘I’m here to help’.”
Roxy scooted back from the edge and leaned into the couch. Her body felt like it was on high alert, ready to attack, defend, whatever was needed. But as she looked at Bucky sit with his back against the couch arm, one leg bent leaning on the backrest, and hands clasped on his stomach, she just shook her head. This man was something else.
“So why didn’t you?”
His eyes narrowed slightly and he pursed his lips. Fingers tapped on the back of his metal hand as he thought to himself. Roxy could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. His chest rose as he took a deep breath.
“I don’t do that anymore. And because I think…” he took another breath, jaw set, and continued, “I think I do need help.”
Roxy turned to face him fully.
“Where d’you wanna start?”
~~~~~
“Wait, wait, wait...”
Roxy stopped shredding the chicken and turned to Bucky who opened a can of soup and dumped it into the bowl. He just grinned.
“You mean to tell me that Steven Rogers had that voice before the serum?” she asked. He just chuckled and nodded as he dumped frozen peas in the bowl.
“His voice stopped cracking before mine did. I was so mad. Imagine-” he turned to her, leaning a hip on the counter, “a voice fit for a linebacker coming out of a kid who looked like he would fall over if a strong breeze came through, and me at 18, trying to get a date with a dame and my voice cracks.”
Roxy slid down and leaned against the cabinets in the tiny kitchen, unable to control her laughter at the thought of it all. Bucky laughed along with her, but pulled her up after she wiped her tears away. The casserole would never be done otherwise.
Moments like this had become more frequent in recent weeks. Roxy had rented an apartment adjacent to Bucky’s so she could be available if he needed her. She’d been in Romania for almost four months and progress with Bucky’s memories had been slow but improving. He had been keeping journals and sketchbooks before Roxy had shown up and, after a couple of weeks of talking, he’d felt comfortable enough to share them with her. She had explained at the beginning of it all that she was not a trained therapist or psychologist in any way. She just wanted to be a friend. Thankfully, he accepted her offer.
Roxy had contacted Rhodey and told him there was an enhanced Hydra operative that wanted out. She asked how she could build a case for him in case they came back and the gracious U.S. government wanted to lock him up. He hadn’t seemed too confident about the scenario but gave her a few pointers anyway. The team still thought she was undercover. Communication was scarce and guilt had started to eat at her resolve like acid.
As much as she had been there for Bucky, he had been there for her as well. Nightmares plagued her and once he had to forcefully wake her before she caught the building on fire. She had woken up several times to hear yelling from his apartment. Needless to say, the neighbors loved them.
“My Lord, I would have died. He was such a cutie!” she said, finally putting the completed concoction into the oven. Bucky laughed.
“He would’ve died if you’d said that to him,” he said, shaking his head. He grabbed the bowl and utensils, put them in the sink, and pushed up his sleeves. “He was always hopeless with women.”
“He’s still hopeless. I called him ‘cutie’ once and he turned red and could not function for a solid minute,” Roxy said, setting a timer on her phone. Bucky dropped his head and muttered something about being a dope.
“The best part of it-” she giggled, “-we were in the middle of a raid. Pretty sure he got punched in the face, too.”
Roxy’s face was starting to hurt from all the grinning, but when Bucky threw his head back and clapped a hand to his chest, she had to laugh with him. Her phone rang in her hand and she had to wipe tears away to see the name. Her heart leaped.
“Hey, I’m gonna take this, okay?” she said, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. His laughter had died down to giggling, Bucky Barnes giggled, and he nodded and waved her on. She answered as she closed the door to her friend’s apartment.
“Hey, hot stuff, how are ya?” she said. She went into her apartment and flopped on the couch. She didn’t hear a response for a moment and was about to say something when she heard a deep sigh.
“Hey, babe…”
“Steve? What’s up? You sound upset,” she said, as she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. Her nerves started bubbling up again. Had he found out where she was? She rifled through her mental files and found her prepared speech. Why she didn’t say anything before now, why she didn’t want to tell anyone else exactly what Bucky’s been going through, please don’t be mad. She heard another sigh.
“It’s...ugh, it’s Ross. And Tony and Nat, of all people. And Peg--” he took a shaky breath before he continued, “Rox…”
“When d’you need me?” she said.
Roxy knew that meeting with him for even a few hours would be dangerous for the mission. She knew that if Steve heard she found Bucky he would demand to see him. Bucky wasn’t ready. Roxy’s case for him was growing daily and she felt confident that, with some actual legal help, he would be accepted again. Maybe even join the team. She hadn’t mentioned going back to America yet; Bucky was still not ready.
Roxy agreed to meet in London and got her plane ticket at that moment. ‘I miss you’s’ were exchanged, and then Steve was called away by Sam in the background. Roxy let her hand fall to her side and sank further into her couch.
She hadn’t gotten any details really about what Ross was going on about or what happened with Peggy, but something in Steve’s voice made her heart ache. If Ross was involved it had to be big. And for Steve to sound like that… Roxy texted Nat and asked if she knew anything on the matter; she didn’t know anything about Peggy either. Her alarm went off for the casserole. She took a deep breath and went back over to find Bucky getting the dish out of the oven.
“Heard ya comin’,” he said, setting it down on the stove. He turned to Roxy, but the smile he had fell. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “Something not good. I have to go to London for a few days, Buck. I know this is short notice, but Steve’s not doing good and I-- I want to be there for him.”
“Alright. Your boyfriend, Steve, right?” Bucky said as he threw a dish towel over his shoulder. He got plates down and silverware was ready on the counter. “I think I used to know a guy named Steve. You ever get that feeling?” he asked, turning around.
Roxy’s eyes were on the couch. She was trying to swallow the guilt, the worry, the exhaustion. This happened. They would be talking about Bucky’s past, the conversation would lull or one of them would leave the room for a moment and he would only remember parts of the information given to him.
“I forgot again, didn’t I?”
Roxy looked up at him. He leaned on the island, his arms crossed, his face neutral, but his eyes were troubled. His breathing was controlled and he swallowed once. She shook her head.
“It’s okay,” she said. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his metal one, he only tensed for a moment. “Is it okay if we watch something mindless? Like Three Stooges or something? I think we both need a break.” She was grateful for the chuckle she received.
“TV’s in your room. It’s up to you, Rox,” he said, “But you gotta make a decision soon, I’m starving. Look at me, I’m withering away!” He let his body go slack while Roxy still had her arms around his and nearly pulled her down. She just giggled and shoved him. He raised an eyebrow in challenge.
“Oh, you wanna fight? Fine, I’ll just take this whole thing to my place,” Roxy said. She made to grab the dish but was blocked by Bucky who started scooping his portion onto his plate. She just chuckled and waited her turn, but had to physically shove him out of the way so she could get at the casserole before he claimed it all for himself.
The earlier part of the day was spent in laughter and the end of the day was spent just the same. Threes Stooges turned into Abbott and Costello and that somehow turned into both RED movies, with Bucky and Roxy both critiquing the action in the movies.
The next day was not so happy.
Roxy had packed everything she needed for her trip, went over her mental list five more times, grabbed her keys, and went to Bucky’s apartment. He always locked his door even if he was home, so they had given each other a key to use. They both had gotten used to letting themselves in, so Roxy did just that.
Bucky sat on the couch in just jeans and still damp hair in a small bun. He traced his scarred shoulder with his right hand and was flipping a combat knife with the other. He stared straight ahead; brow slightly furrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip.
Roxy stood in the alcove of the door and watched him for a moment. He hadn’t noticed her and she was debating on whether she should leave him be or talk to him. He scowled. He bit his lip so hard she thought he made it bleed. He dragged a nail down a scar with so much pressure it left a glaring white line.
“Bucky.”
He blinked.
The knife stalled in his hand and he swallowed hard. Roxy slowly moved toward him, watching his facial expressions morph rapidly. She ghosted her hand over his metal arm and, with the lightest touch, ran her hand down to where he had stopped the knife. He let her take it.
“Why do I remember you?”
Roxy set the knife on the table and looked at him. He didn’t look at her. She saw the dark circles under glassy eyes and the red marks on his neck where he’d been scratching. His right hand had stilled, but his left was clenching and unclenching.
“I barely remembered my name this morning, but I know you,” he said, swallowing again. “Why do I remember you?”
“I don’t know,” Roxy said, hopping up on the table. He glanced at her before scowling at the floor.
“It could be because I’m new and your brain is processing newer information better than old. It could be because I see you every day and having a constant is usually comforting. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m the one asking you to remember. And seeing me causes you to think about your memories, good or bad,” she said, still watching Bucky’s face. He had pulled his right knee up and was biting his thumbnail, brows still drawn together.
“Maybe I’m just that annoying.”
He scoffed, but his brow unknit itself and he rubbed his eyes.
“Don't give yourself so much credit," he said, dropping his hands to his lap. His shoulders relaxed slightly and Roxy took it as a sign that he had come out of whatever funk he'd been in. Or was coming out of it at least.
“Alright," Roxy said, as she stood and moved to him again. She smacked his raised knee.
“C'mon, we gotta go grocery shopping. You are in desperate need of more than just peanut butter bars," she said, “You do have to put clothes on, though, I don't wanna fight every female in Bucharest."
“I don't wanna," Bucky mumbled, head down and picking at his fingernails. Roxy raised an eyebrow.
“Don't want to put clothes on? You literally just need a shirt-"
“I don't wanna go...out," he said.
“Tough cookies, you gotta," she said, smacking his knee again. He lowered it and sank deeper into the couch, a pout forming on his face. “C'mon, Buckaroo, you need provisions."
“I've got stuff…"
“Yeah," Roxy scoffed, “Enough to last tonight. Dude, it’s Tuesday. It’s grocery day.”
Somehow Bucky managed to sink even lower into the couch cushion. Roxy sighed and rubbed her forehead.
“Fine, break your routine. You can have whatever’s in my fridge when you want it. I’ve got some hamburger that needs--”
“I’m not taking your food!”
Roxy blinked at the volume change. Bucky looked at her like she had grown seven other heads.
“I’m not gonna be here for, like, three days. At least. It needs to be eaten or it’s just going to go to waste.” Bucky’s face scrunched at that, and his mouth pulled into an exaggerated frown. Roxy knew she had him.
“But you need it more than I do--”
“Ha! You eat, like, three times as much as I do!”
“You callin’ me fat, Mercer?”
“I’m callin’ you a glutton.”
“I am not a glutton! And you need it more than me, you’re smaller…”
As Bucky’s voice died, his eyes glazed over and he seemed to look through her. It sent a small shiver down her spine, and she took a half-step back. He licked his lips and a rage that Roxy had only seen once before filled his eyes.
“I leave him alone for five fucking minutes--”
And then he was standing.
Roxy took another step back at the sudden movement. Her fingertips sparked and her spine tingled with another, more violent, shiver but she knew the rage was not directed at her. She took a steadying breath through her nose. Bucky’s eyes flickered between hers before looking above and behind her as he raised a hand and splayed his fingers out.
“Five fucking minutes and he’s part of some crazy science experiment because he wants to prove himself. To himself,” he scoffed and shook his head, “I knew I shoulda got him a leash before I left, I knew it. Cause he’s so damn full of ‘fight me’.”
Bucky shook his head again and marched into the kitchen. He yanked a notebook off the shelf and a bag of chips were thrown to the floor. He slammed it open on the counter and grabbed the pen inside, but threw his left elbow back as if he hit someone.
“Fuck off, Morita, you have no idea what that little shit put me through,” he scribbled as fast as his hand would let him. “Gonna get him a chain out of fuckin’ vibranium…”
Roxy could only watch as he continued to mutter to himself and furiously write what was happening to him. She had witnessed this once before, but that time had been about Peggy putting the whole team to shame with one-armed push-ups, and ‘Steve’s subsequent swooning’ as he put it.
Roxy took another breath and unclenched her fists; when she’d done that she didn’t know. Her vision blurred with tears and she blinked them back. She had watched him struggle with this for nearly three months. It had been two years since the fall of SHIELD. Since Bucky pulled Steve from the river after giving him a beating that landed him in the hospital. Two years Bucky had to watch and feel and write what was happening in front of his eyes that no one else could see.
Bucky had admitted to her that he hadn’t left Romania after her introduction because he knew he needed help. He just didn’t want to ask.
Roxy watched as the muttering and scribbling slowed to a stop and he braced his hands on the counter, his shoulders still tense and head lowered. He jerked his head around when she sniffed involuntarily. Her face was contorted as she tried to hold everything in, but when she saw Bucky’s worried face she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him.
As much as he had been through, as much as Hydra had done to him, he never stopped to be truly concerned with his own wellbeing. Roxy couldn’t help but wonder what James Barnes was made of because he had one of the biggest hearts she had ever seen.
Bucky held her and smoothed her hair down as she cried into his chest. Her heart ached for him. She wanted him to be able to sleep without night terrors plaguing him. She wanted him to see Steve and recognize the man that he had influenced so much. She wanted them to meet and be truly happy again.
She was so tired of watching her friends suffer.
Roxy felt Bucky kiss the top of her head as she calmed down and she smiled. What a dork. She sniffed and apologized as she backed away from him. He kept one hand on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow.
“You still need to eat that hamburger in my fridge.”
Bucky never went to the grocery store. Instead, when he heard Roxy was leaving that afternoon he went into full-blown ‘mama bear’ mode. Roxy was not prepared.
He went through her bags, much to her ignored protest, and added things to her luggage. Snacks, mostly. He went through a list of his own about weapons, where to hide them, and what they should be made out of to pass through a metal detector unnoticed. Roxy had to go behind him and remove three pocket knives (which he knew would be fine on the plane), the pistol she kept under her bed, and ten plastic knives in five different places (“Because no one’s going to question plastic knives,” Bucky said. He just put two in at a time and forgot about the others).
As she was running around undoing all his extra packing, he talked to her about how to “watch your surroundings, try not to walk alone if you can help it, you’re meeting your boyfriend, right? Take him everywhere. You packed your cute underwear, right? Make sure you use protection. Do you have any? You may want to buy some when you get there--”
Roxy had zipped up her suitcase and hauled it off the bed only to drop it on her feet. She knew her face had to be blood red as she whipped her head around to Bucky who sat on her dresser, arms crossed and kicking his feet. She just gaped at him as he blinked at her.
“What?” he said, “Don’t tell me you two haven’t done it yet. You’ve been dating, what, almost two years?”
“That doesn’t matter!” she said, her voice squeaking, “And that’s none of your business, James!”
He leaned toward her, tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
“My God, you haven’t…”
“I--that’s--it’s a choice! One that neither of us have made yet…” she said. Her face and neck felt like they were on fire as she tried to move the suitcase. It slipped again.
“Tell me you’ve at least done something physical with him?” he said, searching her face.
“That’s none of your business!” Her voice raised almost two full octaves as she twirled to face him again in what she hoped was righteous fury, but her eyes felt wide as saucers. He merely nodded and smirked at her.
“Okay, you have, that’s good. At least you two aren’t completely hopeless,” he said, shaking his head.
“First: what makes you think people need to be sexually active to make a relationship work?” she asked, crossing her arms and jutting out a hip, “Second: I didn’t tell you--”
“Down and to the right, Birdie, you were remembering something,” he said, with a devilish grin on his face, “And I never said anything about needing to be sexually active, I’m merely suggesting that it might be good for you.”
Roxy rolled her eyes and huffed at him. He giggled.
“Besides, I’ve never seen you go that red. Whatever you thought of had to be good.”
“Get out!”
He laughed as she threw her pillow at him. The fire in her blood came back with a vengeance at his words and she chased him out the door. He took the stairs three at a time and shut his door so quick that it almost came off the hinges, but she could still hear him laugh after she shut her own door. Roxy turned and huffed again, going to her suitcase and setting it by the door. She threw her phone charger into her backpack.
She would be lying if she wasn’t looking forward to having Steve’s hands on her again; to feel his warmth. A hug, a kiss, holding his hand, his hands in her hair, his nails scratching lightly on her thighs, his teeth on her neck…
Roxy shook her head like a cat, her hair flying a bit, and hid behind her hands. Even though Bucky was no longer in the room to see her self-induced embarrassment, she could feel that he was still laughing. The jerk.
After she composed herself and finished packing her carry-on, she texted Bucky and asked if he was still going with her to the airport. She threw on a jacket, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and turned to see Bucky leaning against her door frame eating a granola bar.
Roxy jerked and reached to her thigh where her gun should have been. Bucky just smirked.
“I thought you were supposed to be an Avenger. What did I tell you about paying attention to your surroundings?” Bucky said, gesturing to her with his snack. She made a mocking face, grabbed her backpack, and stuck her tongue out at him as he grabbed her suitcase.
They caught a bus to the airport and Bucky was not happy about leaving her at the door, but Roxy insisted. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, his shoulders were raised, and his mouth was twisted in an attempt to pout. The two stood by the bus doors while people were filing off, Bucky’s eyes were darting around at all the people and it was Roxy’s turn to be ‘mama bear’.
“Please, Buck, if you need to talk, text me first and the second I can I’ll call you. If it’s an emergency, call. Don’t hesitate. Just call me. I don’t care what time it is. If anything changes, I’ll call you. Please eat whatever you want from my fridge; again, it’s just gonna go bad if you don’t. And don’t forget you’ve got that job on Thursday, do you want me to text and remind yo--”
“Oh my God, Roxy, my memory may suck, but I’m pretty sure you’re not my mother,” Bucky said, holding a hand out to stop her tirade. She blinked at him, mouth slightly open and phone in her hand to set a reminder. A smile grew on her face and she hung her head.
“No, but I think I’m turning into mine,” she sighed and put her phone up, “Gah, I’m gettin’ old. Don’t scoff, I know exactly what I’m saying. Now shut up and hug me, Grumpy.”
Bucky tensed slightly when she hugged him, but relaxed quickly and gave her a squeeze that lifted her off the ground. Roxy smiled. He had gotten so much better with physical affection. Or affection of any kind, really. When they started this journey, Bucky was hesitant about receiving hugs or playful smacks on the shoulder. Giving such affection was another story entirely.
Bucky Barnes was a hugger.
And he gave solid hugs, too. Spine-cracking, soul-repairing, big-brother, ‘best-sleep-you-ever-got-with-a-cold’ hugs. He understood that hugs needed to last more than the typical two-second hug received in most greetings.
Roxy loved his hugs. His hugs reminded her of Tony’s hugs and she desperately missed her brother and all her friends. Once she pushed through the anxiety of not really knowing what she was walking into, she buzzed with excitement that she would see her friends again. If only for a moment.
Bucky put her down and ruffled her hair. Big brother indeed.
“Be careful, Bird,” he said as she stepped back from him. She smiled.
“I will, ya big softie,” she said. She slung her backpack on her shoulder and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, “Be back in a couple days, Buck.”
Roxy shot him one last smile and made it to the front doors before his voice boomed over the cacophony of the airport:
“Don’t forget the condoms!”
She stopped dead in her tracks, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was too late. People knew who he was talking to just by her reaction. The fact that she reacted. And the fact that her face felt like it was on fire was a good sign she was blushing like an idiot. She did not turn to see if Bucky was still standing there, grinning like the devil he was. She marched on and tried to focus on finding her plane.
"Clint didn't know her name. No one seemed to know where she'd come from. All they knew was that an enhanced had taken the barrage of bullets meant for Pietro and Clint and now they all waited to see if she'd live."
A little bit of Sam & Andie below the cut for you.
That was the last time Sam would train with Steve Rogers without at least stretching beforehand. Every muscle ached after that thorough ass-kicking, even after a nice hot shower. All he wanted to do was find Andie and relax. Maybe even get a nice massage off her and those magic hands.
'Tis time. Time to say goodbye to Steve and Jenny. At least for now. It was a wild ride and I loved every second of it, every word I wrote and every night I stayed up too long because I was determined to finish a chapter.
Gosh, I'm so sad. I know I won't leave them behind forever. There will be one-shots and drabbles and tons of other stuff written about them. But still, ending this series is like losing a little part of myself.
