Date: May 11, 2022
Words: 2009

~ Author's Note ~

To be honest, I didn't really know how I wanted to do Bucky's journal entry. Sorry, if it's something entirely different.

Spoiling you guys!!

Oh gosh, shits gonna go down...

Lyrics belong to the song 1216 by Echos

Welcome to the room I hide in
I'd invite you in to stay,
But I'm trying to get out of here

.
.
.

Bucharest

All the windows are covered.

Magazines are taped over them. All views are blocked from the outside. People can't see inside, and people can't see out. The walls are bare of all things personal, lacking in everything that makes a place a home. He can only think of one word to describe what it makes him feel.

Lonely.

There are no pictures on the wall. Nothing special on the shelves. Steve glances around, his grip tightening on his shield. He catches sight of a black journal on top of the fridge. It's hidden under two candy bars, and a normal person wouldn't notice it.

The blonde slowly moves closer, gripping the notebook close. He notices the tabs of various colors leaking out from the side. His fingers run along the edge of the old pages as he looks them over. His blue irises flicker over a picture of himself, before he lingers on a red tab, flipping the page.

The title freezes him in his tracks.

Natalia Alianovna Romanova
(Girl with flaming hair?)

Oct. 28, 2014

• Black Widow Assassin (Confirmed)

• Odessa (Shot primary target through her, received punishment for leaving her alive.) I knew her from before.

• Red Room? (Man, Dreskov or Dreykov, in charge with Karpov. Girl with flaming hair and numb to the world, dead green eyes) There was- is something about her.

The writing continues, flowing down the page in a mix of different languages. Steve scrambles against the words shown written in German and Russian, and he is not fluent enough to finish the page. He can make out a few words being repeated: Red Room, Code Words, Karpov, Dreykov.

Steve tightens his grip on the page, staring at the date written in the corner. This journal entry was written a couple of months after SHIELD was destroyed. Bucky has been writing down all the memories he was slowly recovering.

Memories with Natasha.

Bucky had clearly been remembering something that happened in the Red Room before she got brought to SHIELD. Before Odessa. Natasha knew Bucky, and she hadn't told him.

Was she even gonna tell him?

Probably not.

Suddenly, the comm unit crackles before Sam's voice floods through. "Heads up, Cap." He warns, "German Special Forces, approaching from the south."

"Understood." Steve pauses, feeling a presence behind him as he closes the journal. He slowly turns around, eyes burning, he catches sight of his best friend for the first time in years. He asks, "Do you know me?"

Bucky stares, his eyes flickering towards the journal. "You're Steve," he tilts his head toward the counter, "I read about you in a museum."

Steve clenches his jaw, "What about Natalia?" He couldn't help but ask, as he places the journal on the counter. "The girl from the journal. How do you know her?"

The brunette narrows his eyes, his muscles tightening, as an unknown feeling arises in his chest. "What's it to you?"

Steve shakes his head, the reply about to slip past his lips, but Sam's voice interrupts through the comms. "They've set the perimeter."

The effects are immediate.

Steve notices Bucky's eyes flicker around the room as his left-hand curls into a fist. "I know you're nervous," he shakes his head, "And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying."

"I wasn't in Vienna." Bucky shakes his head, "I don't do that anymore."

Sam cuts through, "They're entering the building."

"Well, the people who think you did are coming here now." Steve steps forward, raising a hand in surrender. "And they're not planning on taking you alive."

"That's smart. Good strategy."

"They're on the roof." Steve glances up, Bucky quickly following his glaze, as the blonde hears shuffling start to come through the comms. "I'm compromised."

"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck."

Bucky shakes his head, narrowing his eyes, while he bounces on the balls of his feet. "It always ends in a fight."

"5 seconds," Sam warns.

Steve clenches his jaw, hearing the sounds from behind the door. "You pulled me from the river." He questions, "Why?"

"I don't know." He pulls off his glove, clenching his metal hand.

"3 seconds."

"Yes, you do." Steve insists.

"Breach! Breach!"

A grenade crashes through the window. Steve pushes his shield forward, flinging the bomb away. Another bomb comes flying through the room. Bucky shares a glance with Steve, immediately kicking the bomb at the other soldier. The blonde doesn't hesitate to smother the bomb with his shield, blocking the grenade from any lasting effect.

A GSG-9 Soldier shakes his head, commanding new orders. "Schieß die Tür Auf!" Shoot the door.

The cop slams the battering ram into the door. Bucky picks up the mattress, using it to shield himself from the attack. He slams the table up, throwing it at the door, blocking one entrance. Cops start to swing in on cables, immediately attaching.

Steve pushes himself forward, pulling the rug out from under a policeman, sending him flying. He glances up, as another soldier comes barging in through the back door. The blonde immediately grabs his gun, forcing the tip away from his head.

Bucky comes from behind, kicking the man's legs out from under him. He lands with a thud before Bucky uses his metal hand to slam him against the wall.

The blonde pushes himself forward, "Buck, stop!" He grabs onto Bucky's shoulder, and the brunette doesn't hesitate to twist around, grabbing his hand. He flips the Captain down on the floor, a glazed look flooding his eyes. "You're gonna kill someone."

Bucky freezes, an emotion flickering through his eyes. He sends a punch toward the floor beside Steve's head. The blonde gasps, sending air into his struggling lungs.

"I'm not gonna kill anyone."

XX

"Shit."

Natasha places her hand against her stomach, trying to quell the nausea flooding through her system. The room is spinning. She settles herself into one of the conference chairs, gripping the arms tightly.

After she had gotten off the phone with Steve, she had left for the Joint Counterterrorist Center. Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Director, had called, demanding she and Tony consult on behalf of the Avengers.

Once she got there, she immediately took a shower and changed her clothes. She had put on a black top, her favorite leather jackets, and dark jeans. She had hoped the shower would help with nausea spreading throughout her stomach, but nothing she did seemed to be working. The redhead is tired, both mentally and physically.

Natasha had slipped into the closest conference room she could find, hoping it was empty. She wasn't even that lucky.

Tony glances up as soon as the door slams open, immediately noticing something off. He sat up straight, watching as she placed herself into a chair. Her hand was placed against her stomach, and her other hand was gripping the chair arm tightly.

"Red?" Tony stands up, slowly making his way in front of her. "You ok? You're looking a little green."

She glances up, swallowing deeply before she tries to loosen her muscles. "I'm fine."

He knows she's lying. She knows she's lying. Neither of them comment on it. Tony understands her need to hide things from others. His father used to say, hide all your weaknesses before they can be exploited by other lesser individuals.

Tony understands completely.

The brunette moves back towards the table. Grabbing one of the empty glasses, before filling it with water. He would prefer to give her a sprite or a ginger ale, but he won't complain.

"Here."

The redhead accepts the glass, and he wisely chooses not to comment on her shaking hands. Tony is worried this is a result of an injury she received through the bombing, and he hopes it's not major.

He waits for the color to return to her face, before he lowers himself into the seat beside her, watching her take measured and slow breaths, before placing the glass on the table as she gives him her attention.

"You okay, Red?" Tony pauses, shaking his head as he corrects himself. "Wait, that was a stupid question, do not answer that. Of course, you're not okay. Otherwise, you wouldn't look like you're about to puke your guts out everywhere." He freezes, eyeing her warily, "Is this caused by some type of underlying injury you didn't tell us about?"

"Tony," Natasha huffs, her lips twisting. "I'm good."

He allows himself to relax in the chair, before sending a slight smile in her direction. He doesn't believe her, but he's worried about her. As weird as that is, Tony Stark is worried about Natasha Romanoff.

"You know they're bringing Cap in with Barnes?"

She glances up, and he notices immediately the mask she flows into. There is no hint of vulnerability, and her eyes are clear. He can't get a read off her.

The local police and German officers had intended to go after James, but Captain America had intervened with the authorities, therefore causing a chaotic chase that ended up injuring people, stopping busy highway traffic, and Steve – of fucking course – succeeded in pissing off the government.

It had ended when James, Steve, and Sam had gotten surrounded, as well as T'Challa. Natasha has seen the footage, and James had only surrendered after he had seen Steve do it. The authorities have loaded them all into a jet, currently transporting them back to the Joint Counterterrorist Center.

"I know." Natasha shakes her head, "But he won't let them touch Barnes if he can help it."

"It won't be his choice, Nat. Especially not now, Barnes is responsible for the bombing. If Cap tries anything, he is just going to get in the way. Plus, he didn't sign the Accords."

"He has his reasons, Tony." She defended.

Tony shakes his head, "Well, he doesn't listen to other people's reasons."

"Neither do you."

"Hey!" He gasps dramatically, "We're not talking about me."

Natasha rolls her eyes, sending him a smirk. "But you love to talk about yourself."

Tony glares, as he nudges her leg with his foot. "Are you trying to play with my feelings?"

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

Natasha smirks, "Then yes."

Tony huffs, shaking his head, "You are a bad girl."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Natasha nods, "I know."

Tony shakes his head, enjoying their commentary. The fire is back in her eyes, and he supposes he would be able to survive getting burned a couple of times. But if someone asks, he would say he burned her back.

Suddenly, the door opens, causing both of their smiles to slip off their faces. They stand up out of their seats, as Everett Ross enters the room. His eyes swept around before he struck his hand out.

"Mr. Stark. Agent Romanoff." He grasps each of their hands, "Thank you for being here. I'm Deputy Task Force Director, Everett Ross."

"Of course," Tony nods.

Natasha nods, sharing a look with Tony. "Please allow me to apologize—"

"No need. It's not your fault." Everett cuts her off with a wave of his hand, "Now, Captain Rogers, on the other hand..."

Natasha tenses slightly, not noticeable to the Deputy, but Tony moves closer on reflex. Everett lays a pile of files on the table, straightening his freshly pressed light gray suit.

"Please follow me, they're here."

They don't need to ask who he meant.

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.
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The windows see my pain, they feel it
The curtains know my name, they scream it
Get out of here

XX

What do you guy's think?

How much do you think the next chapter is going to hurt? I cried while writing it...