05 | желание
A/N
Gotta tell ya, Far From Home is great and everything. This new version of MJ really grew on me in the sequel. But it still doesn't hold a candle to Into the Spider-Verse—the animation in that one is just mind-blowing. Anyone of you watched Into the Spider-Verse? What did you think?
x Noelle
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0 5
ж е л а н и е
(longing)
SILENCE REIGNED FOR about three seconds, before Bucky disappeared into the study. Moments later, he emerged with his jeans hanging low on his hips. He tossed the towel into the hamper and pulled on a shirt, then his jacket.
"Wait!" She blinked when he came out from the kitchen with several knives in hand. "What're you doing?"
"Leaving," Bucky's answer was short and clipped. He chucked the knives on the coffee table, before picking her up by the waist and moving her aside as though she weighed nothing at all. Her eyes widened when he flipped up the cushion on the couch and pulled out a gun, along with a box of bullets.
"Was that in there the whole time?" The thought of having sat on a gun all this time frightened her a little. She glanced around and wondered if there were any other ammunition in the house. Surely, Sam and Steve would've told her earlier. This was probably all Bucky's doing. "Where're you going?"
"Away."
"Yes, but why?"
"He's coming for me." Bucky slotted several knives into his bag, then pulled the hood of his jacket over his head. "He knows how to mess with my head. And I don't want to be around you when that happens."
"He doesn't know you're here. You're safe."
"But you're not when you're around me."
Before she could register his words, Bucky leaned forward, catching her entirely by surprise when he slid his palm across her cheek, tilting her head up so that she was meeting his gaze squarely. Her breath caught when he lowered his head, brushing his lips quickly across her forehead, the contact so fleeting and swift that the delicious warmth of his lips on her skin faded away all too soon for her liking. The coldness in his eyes had ebbed away when he stared at her; the expression on his face unusually soft.
Keeping his eyes fixed on her, he shifted his palm slightly so that his thumb was sweeping across her lips, lingering there for a moment or two. Her stomach tightened as an involuntary shiver glossed down her spine and the blue flecks in his irises seemed to darken to a delicious shade as he watched her. "моё сердце принадлежит тебе (my heart belongs to you), aнгел мой," he said quietly, before reluctantly pulling away from her.
She was so stunned that she didn't react for a moment. By then, he'd already pulled the door shut. She grabbed her phone to sent a quick text to Steve, then ran after Bucky. One glance at the elevators made her realise that he hadn't used them. The stairs leading downwards were empty as well. She headed up to the roof, only to find him on the next building. She didn't know how he managed to jump across—the height alone was dizzying enough.
"James!" she called. He immediately stopped in his tracks and whirled around.
"What the hell are you doing up here?" His voice was sharp and he swiftly made his way back. Her eyes widened when he vaulted his bag over to the roof she was on, before running the rest of the distance and then hurling himself over. The ease at which he jumped was almost frighteningly beautiful to watch. He looked like some kind of predator in the dark with acute reflexes, but she barely even had the time to register that before he was striding over to her, pulling her firmly away from the edge. "It's not safe up here, doll, are you out of your fucking mind?"
His hands were gripping her far too tightly by the elbows, but she ignored his vice-like grip and looked up at him. "I could say the same thing about you," she laughed weakly, trying to calm her racing heart. "You can't just leave like that after saying something in Russian that I completely didn't understand."
"Figure it out on your own." He pulled away and reached down to pick his bag up again. "Because I have to go."
"Are you really the Winter Soldier?"
He tensed.
"I mean, I've heard rumours. Sam said something about a missing-person case sometime ago and he accidentally left a file in my office once labelled Winter. That was you, wasn't it?" Bucky didn't say anything, but he didn't run either. She took it as a good sign and stepped forward. "I know the Winter Soldier didn't set off the bomb in Vienna, but there's still rumours that he killed a lot of people."
"That wasn't me." His voice was strangled. "I wasn't him."
"Maybe, maybe not. I've met people who did terrible things even if they didn't want to and even when they couldn't remember what they did."
"Then it wasn't them."
"It was them," she said quietly, noticing the way he stiffened, his other hand now curling into a tight fist. "And yet, it wasn't them. All at once. Just because they didn't know what they were doing at that point of time doesn't mean that their histories weren't written. So maybe this Zemo guy is hunting you down and maybe your Winter Soldier alter-ego is catching up to you. But you can't spend your whole life running."
A long silence followed. She watched as his shoulders gradually loosened. His feet moved back from the ledge. One more word from her. That was all he needed.
"Now can you come back to me?" she asked softly. "Because I'm freezing out here."
His eyes flickered to hers, and widened when he saw that she hadn't worn any shoes. The hard lines of his face faded away and he took a hesitant step towards her.
"It's okay," she said and held her arms out. She smiled when he closed the gap between them.
The hard planes of his chest aligning with her body as he let out a ragged breath, waiting for her to wrap her arms around him before he tentatively skimmed his hands across the small of her back. It was comforting and thrilling all at once to be in his embrace and she didn't think she could ever get enough of it. A low, husky sound escaped his throat when she instinctively leaned into him, and he tightened his grip on her, gently pressing his lips against the side of her forehead. His lips were fire on her ice-cold skin, and she felt her eyes flutter shut as she breathed him in.
After a few moments, she pulled back, feeling her heart race when she noticed how he still kept his arms tightly secured around her waist. "It'll be okay," she repeated, smiling up at him when she met his gaze. "We'll figure this out together."
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Sam and Steve were unusually grave when she told them what happened later that night. Steve kept his orders cryptic and directed Sam to source for more information.
"Bucky's fine," she assured Steve, after Sam had left. "He's sleeping in my room, so if you don't mind, I'll take the couch tonight. Just make sure Sam doesn't push me off to hog it in the middle of the night."
Steve laughed and settled down at the table opposite her. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you about Bucky," he said, sounding apologetic. "When we realised you knew him as the Bucky from the museum exhibit, we figured we'd not ruin that for you."
"Because you thought I'd be terrified if I knew I harboured a wanted assassin in my home?" she mused, with a smile. "To be honest, I am. Not of him. Just of the fact that he was once that person."
"I feel the same way, sometimes."
She watched Steve sip pensively at his coffee. Bucky's situation seemed to be the hardest on him, because he knew Bucky before he became the Winter Soldier. "If it's not too much to ask," she said at last, "Can you tell me what happened? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course."
"No, it's fine," Steve assured her. "It's not that we don't trust you. Sam trusts you with his life and I trust you more than most people – "
"High praise from the Captain himself. I'm honoured, truly."
" – you're welcome, ma'am." He grinned and saluted her, but his smile faded just as quickly. "It's just that I've seen what happened to Bucky. He had to give up information he didn't want to, because the people that had him messed with his brain. Knowing less keeps you out of the radar."
"I appreciate your concern for my safety. But if that's what's stopping you, then it shouldn't. I know that Bucky is suffering. And as a therapist and his friend – "
"Just a friend?" Steve cut in, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. Captain America looking mischievous. She didn't think she'd ever seen that from him before.
"Focus," she ordered, pointing at him with her eyes narrowed. He simply grinned and leaned back in his chair. "My point is, it'd really help if I knew what Bucky had to deal with. I'd ask him myself and I'm certain he'd tell me, but that would involve forcing him to relive his memories. And I'm not sure I want that for him."
"Neither do I. Bucky's been through a lot. He fell from the train during our last mission in the war. We all thought he was dead and I couldn't go back because, well... I was – "
"Stuck in the ice for about seventy years?" She interjected, smiling wryly when he faltered, looking like that portion of the past pained him to say. "Yes, Sam's been very clear about that. He's also very clear on the fact that he'd like to write your story down as a children's fairy tale. Sharon can be your blond princess."
The bitter haze faded from Steve's face just as quickly and he rolled his eyes. "And my sidekick that looks like a damn bird," he muttered, shaking his head at the mention of Sam with amused exasperation.
"Language, Cap."
"Not you too," he shot her a half-hearted glare, his lips twitching when she grinned widely. But the mirth in his eyes dissipated to seriousness when he continued, "Anyway, Bucky was rescued by an organisation called Hydra; which was, coincidentally, the one we'd been fighting on that final mission. They fixed him a bionic arm because he'd lost his left one during the fall. Trained him up to peak-level agility, strength and reflexes to become the lethal assassin called the Winter Soldier. Kept him in cryogenic freeze all those years, only to take him out every now and then whenever they wanted him to kill someone."
"So all those assassinations," she said quietly, as she remembered the way Bucky woke from his nightmares. How haunted he always looked. "All the Winter Soldier?"
"Just the Winter Soldier. After each mission, they wiped his memory and stuck him back into cryo. Reboot, rinse, repeat. Until Hydra put a mark on me and I became his mission. But he rescued me instead of killing me, then went into hiding until recently."
"The bombing in Vienna?" Steve nodded and she let out a quiet breath. "But it turned out to be this guy called Baron Zemo?" Another nod. "Is Zemo from Hydra?"
"No. Just a man who wanted to split the Avengers down the middle. And succeeded," Steve added, a hint of regret in his voice.
She didn't ask further. Even Sam, who shared with her many things, steered clear of this topic. "People who suffer from trauma sometimes suppress their memories and forget things too," she said instead. "A victim of rape who accidentally kills their captor and wipes it from their memory is as innocent as Bucky was during his time as the Winter Soldier. He's the same as any other victim."
"That's it?" Steve's lips twitched. "That's all you have to say about it?"
"Did I use my therapist voice?" She laughed and shook her head in apology. "I tend to do that sometimes."
"No, I just meant that you're remarkably calm about all of this. Most people wouldn't even believe that putting a man in cryo for so many years is possible, let alone that the Winter Soldier exists. So many have thought of him as a myth."
Dakota shrugged, her lips tilting up in a faint smile. "Yeah, well. So many things have happened that nothing much seems bizarre anymore. The Avengers fighting aliens from another world. Vigilantes in Hell's Kitchen. Regular people they call mutants who have superpowers thanks to a different gene. A guy in Queens who goes about spraying web from his hands – "
"Actually – "
" – oh, I don't want to hear about it," she laughed, clapping her hands over her ears. "I'm happy enough living in my bubble of normalcy, with occasional intrusions from superheroes every now and then. Besides," she added, her voice quieter now. "What Bucky went through – that's life. We all get different lots in life and it gets ugly sometimes."
He stared at her for a moment, before he pushed his mug aside. "Bucky once said that you'd know best, because of what you've been through." His blue eyes met hers. "He's right, isn't he?"
She dragged in a deep breath. She hadn't expected Steve, of all people, to bring it up. But then there was no reason to hide it. If Steve trusted her implicitly, she would do the same for him.
"I got lost awhile back," she said at last. She kept her eyes fixed on the table, scratching vacantly at the surface. "My parents died unexpectedly, both of them in a single day. I was just a teenager when it happened and when I realised that they were gone, I just – got lost. Stuck. Like with Bucky in cryo, or like you thousands of feet in the ocean, just metaphorically, that's all. Sometimes, we get stuck in the ice for so long we forget that it's still light outside."
When she looked up, Steve held her gaze steadily. There wasn't an ounce of pity in his expression, and she realised that among everyone she knew, Steve and Bucky were most likely to understand what she'd went through. Because when they woke up, almost everyone they knew was gone.
"Anyway," she continued, "after my time at the treatment facility, I realised that I wanted to help people who were just like me. I studied psychology but when I met patients... That was the difficult part. It was hard to remain professional when I became too emotionally invested in them. Then came Sam. He was the first person I helped get back on his feet. And after that, it became easier."
Steve was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his tone was measured. "You know, in many ways, you're just as important as I am. It's true," he insisted earnestly, when she shot him an incredulous look. "I'm Captain America trying to save lives. You're a therapist saving just as many lives, but in a different way."
"Thank you," she breathed and clinked her cup against his. "And back to Zemo, I can't help but think that it's not just about the Avengers for him."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because earlier on, Bucky said that Zemo knows how to mess with his head. If that's the case, we have to make sure Zemo doesn't come near him."
Steve's lips quirked up in a teasing grin. "We?"
"What – I can't help because I don't have superpowers?"
"On the contrary, I think sympathy and empathy are your strongest suits. Would you like to become an Avenger, Ms Summers?"
Dakota narrowed her eyes and jabbed a finger in his direction. "Don't mock me, Captain. You'll have to eat your words if I take you up on your offer."
"Well," He lifted his mug up to his lips to hide a smile. "Better you than that boy who sprays web from his hands anyway."
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The previous night had clearly taken its toll on Steve, because she found him sound asleep when she awoke. Sam, on the other hand, hadn't returned. She tiptoed past Steve and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
By the time she'd finished with her bath, she found Bucky in the kitchen brewing a pot of tea. But what caught her eye was the brand new mug on the table. It was the exact colour and design as the one he'd broken before.
"How did you get the cup?" she asked in surprise. Her eyes widened when she saw what lay within. A thin, white gold chain – so fine exquisite it seemed to have been made from intertwining thread. But it was the silver-studded pendant that made her breath catch.
Because it was the same shape as the star on his metal arm.
Bucky seemed to have sensed her presence long before she entered the kitchen, because he didn't even turn. "Some website called eBay."
The words sounded so strange coming from him that she bit back a laugh. "How did you get on eBay?"
"Steve's credit card; Wilson's tablet," He said it so matter-of factly that this time, she laughed.
"And the necklace?" He didn't respond and she set the mug down. "That wasn't from eBay, was it?"
He glanced at her over his shoulder. "I believe it's customary for the dame not to ask the man where the presents he's giving her came from."
Dakota's lips twitched. One of the things she and Sam liked to do was to catch Steve's and Bucky's outdated lingo and laugh about it behind their backs. This was definitely something she was going to store away for later. Sam would love it.
She smiled at the expression of consternation on Bucky's face now and replied, "I believe it's also customary for him to help her put on the necklace."
A hint of that crooked smirk played on his lips and he set the kettle down, striding quickly across the kitchen towards her. He paused when he was barely a hairsbreadth away from her, and she felt his metal hand sweep her hair over her shoulder, his right hand picking up the necklace. The catch was a struggle, and after he'd drawn the chain around her neck, he paused, eyes furrowed in concentration as he worked on hooking the catch back into place with one hand.
She stood there quietly, her eyes fixed on the hollow of his collarbone beneath the thin white shirt he was wearing. All she could register was the warmth of his breath and the cool metal against her shoulder blade as he held her hair in place. Everything else was peripheral, and the silence between them was the quiet she loved until he finally broke it.
"I heard what you said to Steve last night," he said at last, his voice barely audible, breath hot against her ear. She shivered. He didn't seem to miss it, if the way his eyes darkened as he looked at her lips, then lifted back up to hold her gaze was any indication at all.
She smiled wryly. "You eavesdropped?"
"It's not eavesdropping if the two of you were speaking loud enough for me to hear."
"Semantics," she let out a laugh and tilted her head questioningly. "Are you disappointed that I didn't tell you my past earlier?"
He shook his head. "Disappointed that I didn't have the courage to ask," he murmured, eyes dipping away from her face as he let the necklace fall back into place, the catch finally locked in. "Disappointed that I didn't have the courage to tell you about mine."
"I don't want you to tell me anything if it means that you have to relive through everything."
His eyes flickered back up to her face, and he shifted impossibly closer, until there was a sliver of a gap between them. When he reached out a hand, fingers pressed beneath her chin to tip her head up, she realised that she could see every line of his features. Every freckle and scar and blemish in between.
"What is it about you?" He asked quietly, his eyes scanning her face intently like he was trying to siphon out the answer just by looking at her. "Why do you want to fix me when you know what I'm capable of doing?"
"I want to fix everyone," she corrected, her lips tilting up in a faint smile. "You're the only person I don't want to let go of even after I've fixed."
His eyes softened and, at that moment, it seemed like she was his only focus and everything else faded out. He drew his fingers gently across her cheek, his skin rough against hers and she instinctively leaned into his touch, letting her eyelids flutter shut. Without sight, he invaded all her other senses. She could feel the way his other hand latched firmly on the curve of her hip, tugging her closer until she was completely pressed up against him. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin and then he was leaning in closer, close enough to taste –
"Well, this is an interesting turn of events."
The sudden voice that came from the doorway of the kitchen made Bucky's head jerk up, turning to face the intruder with a snarl even as his hands still held Dakota in place. Dakota turned, her eyes widening when she saw the redhead leaning against the doorframe, watching them with bright eyes and a wicked smirk playing on her lips.
Dakota had spent enough time talking to Sam to know exactly who this woman was.
Bucky immediately stepped in front of Dakota, his metal arm shielding her in an almost protective manner as he glared down at the redhead, his other hand instinctively reaching for the knife on the kitchen counter.
The woman simply rolled her eyes. "The least you could do is look a little welcoming," She drawled, her smirk widening when she saw the menacing look on Bucky's face. "After all, I did recently have my legs wrapped around your neck."
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