Part 8

"Barnes, you can't be serious." You scoff, crossing your arms. "Why are you going on a mission with Rogers? Why can't he take someone else?"

"Because we always go together." Bucky answers simply, still beneath his bike. It's taking him an extra few days to get the parts he needed, so he's been spending a lot of time trying to get it back together. He can see your feet from beneath the machine, and he knows by your tone this isn't going to be a peaceful conversation.

"Why do you have too, though? Why can't you just stay here where I ---?"

"Where what?" he sighs when you stop, and slowly pushes out from beneath the motorbike, seeing your chagrined expression from where you lean against a column. "Where you can make sure I don't run into the arms of another woman?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to smile; now that he's relaxed around you, he's actually got a sense of humor and a smart mouth you're not accustomed too. He's spent every night at your place now, and you're not sure if the rest of the tower knows or not, but you really don't care. They're all nosy and snoops, so you figure you couldn't hide the relationship if you tried. 

"I just... I don't like the idea of just you and Rogers going out. Take one of the others with you. I know Hydra hasn't been super active lately, but that's actually a bad sign, it means they're planning something and ---."

"I don't think they're interested in me," Bucky says after a moment, and he reluctantly rises to his feet. You let your eyes trail over the large man, at how gracefully he gets to his feet, despite his size. Your eyes linger on his hands as they wipe black onto a towel, knowing what they can do, for pleasure and pain. 

"They're always interested, Bucky."

"Look, it's just for a day, you won't even notice I'm gone," he assures you, tossing the rag away. He steps over to you, brushing an errant strand of hair out of your face. "You're safe here in the tower, no one is going to dare attack, not while everyone is here. Me and Steve will be back before you know it."

You huff. "I don't care if Rogers flies off a fucking cliff and lands in another iceberg."

Right; you're never going to get over that, are you? Bucky doesn't comment, there's not a point; you're pissed at Rogers and that's not going to change for a while. Still, Bucky has to go, and he has no worries that anything will go wrong while he's away.

"How about I come with you?" You suggest after a moment, looking up.

"Come with me? And Steve?"

"I can make sacrifices."

"There's no need. If you're gone, who's going to watch after Toby?"

"He's a cat, he's resourceful. It's just for a day, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I can come."

"(Y/N)," Bucky frowns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"(Y/N)."

"I just --- I have a bad feeling, is all," you fidget, looking down. "I don't think you should go."

"It'll be fine."

"You keep saying that, but I'm not so sure." Your bad feelings always pan out, one way or another. The idea of Bucky going somewhere you can't be around him makes you nervous, and you're not generally a clingy person. You're just worried, and you don't want him going, he's --- well, sort of important to you.

Plus the only one in the whole tower that even knows what's going on with you.

"What kind of mission is it, anyway?" You ask, seeing the distraction in his face. You reach up, cupping his prickly jaw, blue eyes finding yours. You frown up at him, wondering what he has on his mind.

Bucky hesitates, but then his hands are slipping around your waist, and he's leaning into you, seeking the comfort of your body against his. He sighs, letting his forehead rest against yours.

"We're checking a lead about a missing agent. She disappeared a few days ago, and we think it's Hydra."

"So what happens if you find her and it's a showdown?" You ask, chewing your lower lip. "Wouldn't it be more beneficial to send more then just two? And why you two specifically? There's plenty of other agents, isn't there?"

"Steve volunteered to go himself, it's just a mission to check it out."

"So then why are you going?"

"Because I don't want him going alone."

"Because it can be dangerous."

You're turning this around on him and he doesn't like that.

"No, it's not supposed to be. Even if it is, though, it's safer for the two of us to go ourselves then send someone who can get hurt."

"You're not bullet proof, Bucky! You can get hurt just as much as someone else!"

"I'm much less likely."

"Yeah? Well, what if it's an ambush?" You demand, stepping away from him; being so close is distracting, and the pure male scent of him --- well, you haven't had such great sex in all your life, so currently you're still sort of wanting more of it. Being so close definitely makes you just want to rip his clothes off no matter where the two of you are. "What if they know your trigger word, and you go all zombie, and ---?"

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do. There's no reason for you to be so upset, it's not supposed ---."

"For fucks sake, Bucky, if it's not supposed to be dangerous, then why can't I come?"

"You know why! You can't leave the tower ---."

"Yes I fucking can," you seethe, glaring at him as your hands go to your hips. "I'm not going to let them scare me until I'm forced to hide in this place! If I want to go out, I will!"

"Not unless someone is with you."

"What are you, my mother?"

"I just want you safe, that's all. If we do run into trouble and find the agent, being the middle of a fight with Hydra isn't going to be where I want you." Bucky is annoyingly calm, he knows you're spoiling for a fight because you're mad at him; he's leaving on the mission, he already agreed, he just didn't realize you'd make this big of an issue out of it. He absolutely doesn't want you leaving the tower unless he's at your side, that's one thing he will fight about.

"I can take care of myself."

"I know, but Hydra is more of an opponent then what you're used too."

"Oh, like those aliens weren't?" You snap, bristling at him. "If I can deal with them, what's a few agents?"

"The aliens didn't know you, these agents will, and will have powers of their own. They're not going to be helpless, and while they might not be gunning to kill you, they won't stop from hurting you if that's what it takes to capture you." He wishes you'd stop being so stubborn, you already know all of this! The other night he'd explained everything, how Hydra works, what bullshit they do and pain they cause. They'll hurt you if they capture you, and they'll twist your mind so much you won't know who you are anymore.

Bucky doesn't want to lose you, you're the one good thing in the world he finds he cares about. Your relationship, whatever it is, might still be new, but it's what he needs in his life. You keep him grounded, from your sharp tongue to your gentle kisses. If Hydra gets you, he'll lose all of that, and you'll lose yourself.

Neither of you want that.

You're silent, but he knows that's not a good sign. He likes it better when you're hissing at him, not just glaring at him with a mutinous look on your face.

"Are you going to make me worry for you the entire time I'm gone?" He asks softly after a moment, his hands hanging limply at his sides as he looks at you, that wounded look in his blue eyes. To be a super soldier, he's very sensitive.

"You have nothing to worry about and you know it."

"Do I? How am I going to know if you decide to leave and get yourself into trouble?"

"Why not stay here then? Make sure I don't go out?"

"Because you know I can't. Why is this even an argument?"

"It's not," you grind your teeth, your stomach tightening. You just... "I just --- I have this bad feeling, Bucky, and when I do, shitty things happen. Please, just... just don't go tonight, okay? Just stay here, let Steve take someone else." You run a hand through your hair wearily. "Just believe me on this one, alright?"

Bucky frowns. 

You know he can't stay here, that he has to go. You're just worried about him, you're used to being around him every day. 

"There's going to be nothing to worry about." He says after a moment, shaking his head. He watches as your shoulders slump in defeat, and his gut tightens. "I'll be back tomorrow night, and it'll be normal again."

"Bucky, I'm not trying to be some clingy, annoying girlfriend here, I'm serious."

"I am too." He gazes at you, eyes darkening. "No one will stop me from coming back to you."

He --- what?

You blink, caught off guard by his words. You stare at him, hesitating, your mind suddenly forgetting your next argument. He gives you one of his shy smiles, and his metal hands takes yours, gently, just like he always does. He gives the smallest of pressures, bringing your knuckles to his lips; he can smell your lotion, the vanilla cupcake scent familiar and comforting. You're a baker, so he's not surprised you smell like home.

"So, if you're not a clingy girlfriend, what kind are you?" he asks after a moment, his smile turning mischevious. 

"The one who's going to punch the fuck out of you in a minute."

Bucky chuckles, and tugs, pulling you into the curve of his arms and locking them behind your lower back. You let your fingers rest against his chest, able to feel the calm beating of his heart as you tilt your head back to look up at him. 

"So you are my girlfriend then?" he murmurs, eyes on yours and refusing to let you look away. Your cheeks heat immediately, and you bite your lower lip, not quite sure what to say. That's not what you'd been implying whatsoever, you were just trying to make a point.

"Bucky ---."

He cuts off whatever you're going to say with his lips, and you can't help but immediately melt into him, kissing him back. Being called his girlfriend makes you feel like a silly teenager, and you know you're not really... well, someone that another person would want to claim. You're spontaneous, bitchy, bitter about your past and present and with a harsh tongue.

You don't know how Bucky stands you, but you're grateful that he does.

"If we hurry, we can have some time together before I leave," he murmurs against your lips, causing you to smile.

"You want to fuck as much as possible beforehand, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Fine. But only because you're hot."

Bucky laughs.

~~~~~~~~~

You lean against the wall, watching as Rogers and Bucky say bye to Wanda and Stark. Bucky is quiet, just like he always is. He doesn't say anything to the two people in front of him, his eyes drawing back to where you lean. You give him a small smile and wave, your hair drawn down your neck, hiding the rather impressive hickey he left there for good measure.

He almost smirks.

"You need to check in every two hours," Stark is saying to Rogers, neither of them really looking at the other; there's an animosity between the two that's never been settled, and you know it has something to do with Stark's father, whose name you can't remember other then Mr. Stark. He was an asshole from what you've heard, but that's none of your business. "No questions asked, we need updates."

"Got it." Rogers nods, wearing his Captain America outfit and looking like the American flag puked all over him. You find the outfit tacky, but at least you're not the one who has to wear it. You told Bucky that earlier, and he just laughed.

At least he looked hot in his armor, Rogers looks like a sideshow act.

Or, you're just biased, and whatever Rogers wears you'll make fun of.

You sigh as the two soldiers turn away, Bucky's eyes lingering on yours for a few moments longer before he looks away, his face hardening. He's not looking forward to leaving you, but it's a necessary evil, and he has a job to do.

That's what he tells himself.

~~~~~~~~

"We're close," Steve murmurs, he and Bucky crouching down low behind a row of crates. It's the middle of the night, the sun will be rising in two hours, and the warehouse in front of them is lit up like the fourth of July. Bucky can see armed guards, but that doesn't necessarily mean Hydra.

"What's the plan?" he asks, flexing his metal fingers against the cold concrete he's crouching on. He can see some barrels up ahead, explosive or not, and the men around them chatting; the air is cold, Bucky can see his own breath, but it doesn't phase him, he's used to worse.

"We need a distraction, a way to get in." Steve murmurs, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. 

The ride to the warehouse from Stark Tower had been like old times, full of small talk, but no mention of you. Steve said his piece, and he meant every word, so he's going to let Bucky handle it from there. No matter what, he'll be there for his old friend, he always is. 

"I can cause one, keep them focused on me. Are you going in to check the hostage?"

"Yup."

"Alright," Bucky reaches for his gun, quietly clicking the safety off.

Now comes the fun part.

~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, tuna can."

Stark closes his eyes, reminding himself to keep his temper as he hears your voice. He slowly turns, the lights glinting off his glasses. You're standing in his office, your hands on your hips and a narrowed expression on your face that doesn't make him feel any better about having to look at you.

If he could ship you off to another part of the world, he would, you get under his skin.

"What is it?" He huffs, folding the papers he was looking at. 

"Where are Barnes and Rogers going?" Bucky wouldn't tell you the location.

"Alaska, why?"

You narrow your gaze. "How are they supposed to be back by tonight?"

Stark frowns. "They're not. Unless they find the hostage or what happened to her, I don't expect they'll be back for a few days."

WHAT!?

You can feel the heat rising up your body, starting at your toes.

Stark blinks, waiting for the steam to start rolling out of your ears any minute; why does this piss you off? He can tell it in the way you tense, you're like an open book with your body language. You inhale deeply a moment, and Stark glances over as he hears something hit the floor, one of his books collapsing off the shelf.

That fucking --- Bucky lied to you!

He fucking lied to your face!

"When are they supposed to check in next?" You demand, ignoring the your reflection in the glass walls of Stark's office; you think it's rather stupid he has glass for walls, they're not very safe. Not defensible.

"In another few hours."

"Good. I want to talk to them."

~~~~~~~

Bucky throws himself forward, landing hard on his flesh arm as he avoids the hail of bullets. He grunts, clutching his gun in his hand as he rolls to his knees, shoving his back against the shipping container.

Well, the distraction was going well. 

He hopes Steve can get inside virtually undetected, Bucky is pretty sure he got the spotlight well enough when he exploded one of the barrels and started firing at the armed men. He's hit a few of them, not enough to kill, he's being careful, but enough to put them out of commission.

He grinds his teeth, aggravated when he hears the com in his ear crackle to life.

"Not the time!" He hisses, rearing back to fire around the container, bullets pinging off the shattered light post, shouts echoing in his ears.

"Oh, you fucking --- you better believe it's the time!"

Bucky hesitates as he suddenly hears your venomous voice in his ear, and he whirls around, off guard.

"(Y/N)?"

"Why the fuck didn't you say you were going to Alaska?"

"Uh, I ---." Bucky flounders; well, because he knew you'd pitch a fit. He hadn't wanted to lie, but if he'd told you the truth, you never would have let him leave. "How did you get the com?"

"I shoved Fitz out of the way, how else?"

Why is he even surprised?

He withholds a sigh, and reaches for his belt, grabbing one of the grenades. It's not going to cause too much damage from this distance, but it'll definitely be a loud boom. There's too many armed men, and if Bucky doesn't want to start killing them, Steve is going to have to hurry up inside. It's been ten minutes and that's too long.

He tugs the pin out of the grenade, tightening it in his palm before he brings his arm back and throws it as hard as possible, sending it sailing through the smokey air. He hears it pings before he takes cover, and the nearby explosion is loud enough to be heard through his com.

"Bucky!?"

"Fine, just a grenade." He grunts, checking how many rounds he has left in his gun. Not many, and he's running out of time. If he has to go hand to hand, he will, but it's not going to bode well for them. "We're at the warehouse, Steve's gone in to retrieve the target."

"How many men is there?" Bucky recognizes Stark's voice; are the two of you in the same room and not at each others throats? 

"Not sure, too many. This place is heavily guarded. They're keeping something here other than some hostage," Bucky mutters, listening to the shouts filling up the night, fires starting to erupt all over the place as his grenade does its task. The air is so cold, Bucky's breath shudders out in front of him, his chest moving rapidly.

"Rogers?"

"I'm --- looking ---," Rogers voice is crackly, and from the spaces between words it's obvious he's fighting, Bucky can just hear the clinks of his shield against something.

"What's inside the warehouse?"

"Boxes. Crates. Some kind of equipment."

"Have you seen any trace of the target?"

"Not yet."

"How long have you been engaged?"

"Fifteen minutes, tops."

Bucky narrows his gaze, tuning out the conversation in his ear as he spies trucks rolling in. He hesitates, edging a little out from behind the metal shipping container, trying to get a better view. 

"We got trucks rolling in." He mutters, darting from behind the container and for some smashed pallets, using them as a shield. Everyone is distracted by the fires, they're not currently looking for him. "More soldiers. Back up, probably."

"This is taking too long!" Steve snaps, sounding aggravated. "I can't get even close to the offices ---."

"I'm coming in," Bucky says, his voice hard as he darts forward, not waiting for confirmation. Steve obviously can't fight everyone by himself, and in the confusion Bucky has created, it's possible for him to slip inside. There's a lot of soldiers, more and more men in black, but none of them are wearing the Hydra logo.

Is it possible they have wrong information?

What's really being held here?

He can see Steve on the upper level, fighting through the soldiers trying to kill him on the catwalk. Bucky lets Captain America handle them, instead making a beeline for the back of the warehouse, keeping low behind the equipment and cargo inside. He hates the smell, the freezing air only making his nose and lungs burn as he moves.

He suddenly understands why you had a bad feeling.

His steps are silent as he moves forward with catlike grace, prowling up behind two men. He sheaths his gun, ignoring the buzzing voices attempting to distract him in his ear. He focuses solely on the targets in front of him, his training taking hold. He steps up behind them, and before they can react their skulls are crashing together, both of them crumpling to the ground.

Bucky dips, grabbing their guns and slinging the straps over his shoulder, making a break across an open part of the warehouse floor, boots crunching through broken glass and shattered wood. Steve sees him from above, shoving another man off the catwalk and into the pallets below. He needs to get to the offices near him, search them, find the hostage if he can and if she's still alive.

What could Hydra want with someone like her? From the information, she had just been leaving Stark Tower, where she'd been discussing some kind of contract for helping the city rebuild. She wasn't high level, had no clearance --- what did she know that that Hydra wanted?

It didn't make sense to him.

Bucky curses silently as he shoves open office doors gun first, finding them all empty, sparse of furniture. It's too obvious to keep the operative somewhere up front, isn't it? He sighs as he keeps going, keeping the gun close to his body, eyes hard. 

"Anything?" Stark's voice buzzes.

"No."

Where did you go?

Are you still in the room with Stark? You have a bad habit of biting your nails when you're upset, so Bucky can imagine you there at the controls, biting them as your worried eyes look at nothing in particular.

He wishes you hadn't figured it out.

He's sure you're going to ream his ass when he gets back.

He kicks open another door, firing his gun when he sees movement. The soldiers immediately duck for cover, tossing themselves behind a desk. His eyes flick, seeing a door in the back of the room, one that none of the others had. He steps forward, making sure to keep firing until he can find cover for himself. He curses the instant he ducks, hearing the soldiers immediately begin to return fire.

His heart thunders in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he counts the seconds. He can see the blurs in the corner of his vision, the bullets impaling themselves int the concrete walls, pinging off them and rolling across the floor. The room is hot, despite the cold outside, and Bucky's grip feels slick on his weapon as he abruptly shoves to his feet, moving as he fires himself.

One of the soldiers screams, falling back immediately, giving Bucky time to reach them. He lunges at the remaining soldier, grappling with him, easily getting his arm around the younger man's throat and choking him out.

They aren't even in the same league as him.

He lets the man collapse to the floor, stepping over his body and starting for the blue door in the back, the lights gleaming off his metal arm as he pushes it open. It creaks loudly, and Bucky feels his chest pinch.

Oh no.

He walks forward, seeing the young woman slumped forward in a chair, her arms tied behind her. He hesitates, seeing the blood staining her clothing, and the cuts and open wounds on her visible skin. He nudges the chair with his foot, but she doesn't stir.

He sighs, and his fingers dart to her neck, pressing against the cold skin.

"The hostage is dead," he says after a moment, voice clipped. "We're too late."

There's no immediate reply, then, "How long?"

"A few hours. She's not been gone long. They tortured her for whatever she knew." He's not going into details, not if you're still in the room with Stark, you don't need to know the physical condition of this woman. He glances at the open door, still hearing fighting. "We should retreat."

"Are you sure she's gone?" It's Steve's voice, hopeful.

"Yes." Bucky grimaces, seeing the red lines pouring from her throat. Her head is tilted forward, hair curtaining her face, but he can see her neck just fine. "They slit her throat, she's gone."

Steve curses.

So much for saving lives.

"We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

"Wouldn't expect any other way."

~~~~~~

"Who was the woman?" You ask after a moment, standing with Stark at his desk. He looks worried, grim, and it's not a good look for him. He slowly takes his glasses off his face, tossing them onto his desk with a sigh.

"Stacy. She's new, just out of the academy. She was doing the contracts between Stark and the city, where I can help use my technology to rebuild it. She's been here a few times."

"I think I've seen her," you murmur; you and Bucky had run into the perky red head the other day, just as she was leaving with an armful of papers. How could she know possibly anything? Why did Hydra kill her?

You feel sick, thinking about the girl who'd been so lively and full of smiles; Bucky had said she'd been tortured...

"Barnes and Rogers are returning now, they should be here in eight hours, tops."

"What about the girls body?"

"We'll send someone to recover it, for her family." Stark mutters, sitting down slowly in his chair, as if the news had aged him ten years. He sighs as he tilts his head back, gazing up at his ceiling. You almost want to comfort him, offer him some words that might make him feel better, but you don't know any. You're not good at making other people feel better.

"I'm sorry," you say after a moment, biting your lip. He must have known her personally, and that makes it worse; is that why Rogers had volunteered, because she was a friend of Stark's?

"Thank you." Stark says after a moment, exhaling heavily.

You don't know what else to say, so after a second you turn away, intent on leaving the room.

"(Y/N)," Stark calls out just as you reach the door, and you pause, your fingers curling around the handle as you turn to look at him over your shoulder.

"Yes?"

"This thing you have with Barnes," Stark knows he's crossing a line, but he'd heard the rumors, Wanda likes to chatter. "Don't let it interfere with his job."

You frown, straightening. "We don't have a thing."

"I'm not blind, and neither is anyone else in this tower."

Ahuh.

You're not sure if you're being insulted, or chastised, or what, so you don't say another word, just leave.

People should mind their own fucking business.

~~~~~~~

"I just don't understand it. Why did they take her? What did they want from her?" Steve paces back and forth inside the private jet heading for New York. He looks worried, unsettled. He'd wanted that young girl to be alive, not for her life to be wasted. "What could she possibly know?"

"I don't know." Bucky watches his friends erratic pacing. "Could they want to know about the rebuilding of the city?"

"I can't imagine how that would be important to them."

"Maybe Stark's technology?"

"No, he keeps what's really important to himself, and not on paper where it can be stolen. That girl was just carrying blueprints and contracts, nothing more. Obviously if they wanted the papers, they didn't have to go through the effort of taking her, either. She knew something, I just --- I don't know what."

Well.

Bucky sighs, sinking lower in the white chair. He stretches his legs out in front of him, wanting nothing more then to get some shut eye on the plane ride back, but Steve's pacing isn't going to let him take a nap. He'll be tired by the time he gets back to the Tower, and then he's going to have to listen to you bitch at him and raise hell because he fibbed slightly --- or, more or less, just didn't say everything.

"I've seen her around the Tower," he offers after a moment, propping his chin on his hand. "Passed her in the hall a few times."

He and you had saw her just the other day as you'd turned down the hall from the kitchens. You and her had stopped to talk for a moment, and you'd given her one of your freshly baked cupcakes; you're generous when you want to be.

"I have too, she was just... just a kid." Steve shook his head, bothered. "But there must have been something."

"Is there something in Stark Tower that Hydra might want?" Bucky offers. "Something she might have seen or overheard?"

"You'd have to ask Stark that."

Huh.

Bucky tries to think, but the only person Hydra could want there is you.

He stiffens.

You.

The girl had talked to you several times, you somewhat knew her enough to think her worthy of your baking. She knew of your powers, mostly just through the rumors of the agency, nothing more.

But --- you.

You.

Hydra wants you --- did they take the girl and interrogate her just to learn what she knew about you and your powers? Did she know about your relationship with Bucky, could she have told them that?

Son of a bitch!

Bucky shifts nervously, wondering if he's just being paranoid, connecting dots where he shouldn't, but he can't help it. You're important to him, and he'd rather Hydra take him then they get their hands on you.

Fuck.

"How much longer until we land?" He asks nervously.

"An hour, maybe thirty minutes." Steve crosses his arms with a sigh, the plane rocking slightly with turbulence.

Fuck.

Bucky clenches his hands, suddenly unable to hold still, his heart pumping hard inside his chest. The mission was a bust, a waste of time, he never should have gone, left you by yourself. You'd told him not to go repeatedly, tried to get him to stay because of your bad feeling --- maybe he should have listened to you.

"Sir."

Bucky and Steve look over, suddenly seeing the flight attendant in the door of the cockpit, her face bloodless.

"What is it?" Steve demands, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"A bomb just went off in Stark Tower."

~~~~~~~~~

You cough, groaning in pain where you lie. You're not sure what happened, your head is ringing, and your eyes burn too badly to open them. You'd been sneaking downstairs towards the main kitchen, intent on cooking something for yourself in the industrial oven --- maybe a strawberry shortcake, before Bucky returned.

Now, there's pain blazing through your side, and you're having a hard time breathing for all the dust. There's shouting in the distance, and the building is still shaking, trembling --- or maybe that's you, you can't tell.

You give it a few minutes, taking check of your body, finding your ribs are the only thing screaming in any pain. You slowly crack your eyes open, your head still buzzing, disorienting as you raise your head.

Huh.

You slowly shuffle, kicking some debris off your legs with a hiss of pain. You manage to push to your knees, looking down at your side; oh that's fucking lovely!

Rebar.

Your hand sweeps beneath your sweater, which falls open on either side of you, a light blue that Bucky says compliments your eyes. You press your hand hard against the wound, groaning as it makes your body shake.

Well, you can add being stabbed since joining the Avengers now.

What the hell happened?

A bomb of some sorts?

Everything was fine before it exploded into hell!

The wall beside you is collapsed, letting you see into what was once a sitting room, now just gaping out with busted windows, warm air billowing forth to shuffle your air. There's nothing from stopping you tumbling out of the building now, down ten floors.

You should avoid that area.

Grunting, you manage to stagger to your side, your blood staining your fingers; you hope it doesn't ruin your sweater, it's one of your favorites.

You lean back against the opposite wall, the buzzing in your head finally starting to die down, make it possible for to focus. You can hear yelling and shouting, meaning other people are around, although you can't see any of them.

Shit, your side hurts! You're pretty sure nothing major is fucked up there, the rebar just pierced your skin --- your ribs don't seem broken, and that really hurts. 

Okay, you need to get out of this building, that's step one.

You force your legs to move, shuffling forward as you head for the stairwell --- you're not supposed to take elevators in situations like this.

When you turn the corner, you can see people flooding the stairs already, the door held open by some fallen debris so everyone can get out. You can hear this floor groaning, and you worry about it collapsing, falling the rest of the six stories down and taking all the people with it. You chew your lip, watching as everyone made it out, still needing some time to control your legs.

You don't feel your wound much, you figure your body is in shock, and that's fine with you.

"(Y/N)!"

You look over your shoulder, bleary eyes spying red hair.

"Natasha." You say, recognizing the assassin. She looks fine, so she must have been away from the worst of the blast, unlike you. "What the hell is happening?"

"We're under attack," she says, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, eyes hard. "Hydra is attacking us."

"What?" You stare at her in surprise. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Bucky and Rogers ---."

"I know --- I think kidnapping that girl was just a distraction to get them out of the way while they attacked." Natasha mutters, reaching for the gun on her belt; she knows, thanks to their genetic engineering, that they're the strongest fighters. She doesn't know where anyone else is, finding you is just coincidental.

"We need to get all the people out of the tower, see who's trapped." The words leave your lips before you can stop them; usually you're all for getting yourself out first, Bucky must be rubbing off on you. 

"Can you check the rooms on this floor?" Natasha asks, pulling her cell phone from her pocket; she needs to check on Stark, on Wanda, make sure they're okay on the higher floors.

"Yes."

"Good. Call me if you need help, I'm heading up a few stories."

"Isn't that dangerous? What if the buildings collapses?"

"Then it does." Natasha doesn't wait for you to say anything else, just takes off, charging for the stairwell to go farther up.

You don't know if she's brave or stupid as hell.

You sigh, looking down at your waist, slowly peeling your hand away; you're still bleeding, but it's not bad enough where you'll die, you hope. 

Fuck, you shouldn't even be here.

You grumble silently to yourself as you start through the floor, calling out occasionally, listening to any sounds of pain or groans. You look the best you can, but you don't see anyone around; if they're buried under some of the collapsed walls, you're not really sure what you can do for them anyway.

You hesitate as you hear footsteps, your head turning.

Those... are not people that you know.

You stare, seeing the men in black turning the corner, guns raised; they're just dressed in black armor, gas masks over their faces. Unless they're the rescuers here to save the day and can fucking teleport, you're figuring they're the bad guys.

All three of them.

You narrow your eyes at them, turning around in the hallway; you don't look like anything, dressed in a baby blue sweater, some skinny jeans and black flats. You're keeping your left hand pressed against your right side, trying to keep pressure the best you can, although the you know your face is streaked with gray.

"I don't assume you guys are here to help me look for survivors?" You ask lightly as they spot you, sidling closer together. They don't respond, just steadily move closer.

"Hands in the air!" One of them barks, voice muffled through the gas mask, and you quirk a brow.

Alright.

You lift your hand sharply as directed, and immediately their feet go out from under them. They yelp as they slam into the ceiling, and when you bring your hand down, they crash into the floor, hard.

You don't wait for them to get up, but instead take off, heading for the closest stairwell. Every step sends a harsh jab of pain into your side that you're starting to have a hard time ignoring, and you're having a hard time breathing as well. You curse mentally, wondering if you can survive a toss out one of the windows.

Theoretically --- no.

You fumble for your phone in your back pocket, glad that it wasn't damaged when you were tossed of your feet. You can only use one hand, but you manage to find Stark's number; you hope the tin can will answer.

It takes a few moments.

"There's fucking soldiers all over the sixth floor," you wheeze as you finally stagger to a stop, darting into one of the side rooms and shutting the door; it's dark, you can barely see, but you're hoping you can hide for a few moments. "What the hell is going on, Stark?"

"It's Hydra," he responds, and from the way his voice sounds you realize he's already in his suit. "They're attacking us."

"For what?" You squawk, nudging the light switch; you're relieved when the light flickers on, although it dims and flashes dangerously. "This place is just research, isn't it?"

"Yes. I don't know what they want. Do you need help?"

You look down at your bleeding side. "I'll be okay. I'm just trying to work my way down, I couldn't find anymore people on the floor except the soldiers."

"Good. Just see if you can't get out, if you need help ---."

"I'm on my own?" You snort, figuring that's what he's going to say.

"No. Call for me. Stay on the line, the others all have coms."

Yeah, you need to get one of those and not lose it.

"My cat!" You suddenly gasp, your eyes widening. "Fuck, Toby! He's still upstairs, he's all by himself!"

"(Y/N) ---."

"I have to go get him!"

"You have to get out of the tower!"

"Not without my cat!"

"I'm upstairs, I'll get him." You hear a voice respond, and you blink as you recognize it as the bird mans. "What number is your room?"

"234."

"On the East side?"

"Yes."

"That side wasn't damaged, he's probably fine," Sam, you think that's his name, says. "I'll get him and take him downstairs to where Wanda and Vision are."

"Thank you," you say in relief, worried for the small kitten; it would just kill you if something happened to him.

"Now get downstairs, (Y/N)," Stark tells you firmly, and you wonder if everyone can hear your conversation. "Natasha ---?"

"I'm on the seventh floor, there's soldiers everywhere." Her voice is tense, and you momentarily worry about her. 

"On the fourth and third, too," Stark sounds frustrated. "What the hell are they after?"

"Maybe they're just trying to take you guys out." You offer, peeping out your door, seeing the carpeted hallway empty; where are those soldiers? "Y'know, Hydra is kind of your nemesis, right?"

"They could do that by taking us out individually, not like this." Natasha disagrees, and you hear gunshots through the phone pressed against your ear. You're leaned against the wall, peering out the door, giving yourself time to rest. You don't realize you're leaving a red smear against the wall behind you, that your side is numb and blood is seeping through your blue sweater. "They're searching for someone."

"How can you tell?"

"They're not tearing this place apart, looking for papers. It's someone."

Well.

"Can we find out who it is?" Stark asks, and you wince as you shift, finally taking a chance. You open the door slowly, poking your head out, but you don't see anyone. Looks like the coast is clear.

You start forward, heading for the stairs immediately, your footsteps silenced by the carpet. You huff, already out of breath and you're not even running.

"Want me to interrogate?"

"If you get the opportunity."

This is so annoying.

"When were Steve and Bucky set to land?" You vaguely hear Natasha ask, your eyes zeroing in on the other set of stairs. The door is on the ground, and half of the wall is collapsed. You hesitate as you near, cursing vehemently under your breath. You can't go down, the stairs are blocked by heavy pieces of debris. You'll have to go up and circle back around.

"Thirty minutes ago. They'll be here soon as backup."

"Was that girl some distraction for them to be out of here?" You ask after a moment, gingerly stepping forward on some rubble, climbing. You shuffle your phone between your shoulder and ear, having to use both hands to climb, sweat building on your skin as your grip slips a couple time; you were not made for this kind of physical activity!

"If she was, she wouldn't be dead." Stark's voice is grim.

Well, true.

Your feet finally greet hard stairs, and you start up them, legs trembling. You don't look at your side, you don't want to know the damage or how gross it looks --- or how ruined your clothes are. You just keep trekking, putting one foot in front of the others like you always do, listening to the chatter in your ear through a slick grip.

Both of your hands are bloody, your just don't realize it.

You can hear the building groaning, and it's all you can do to keep upright as the stairs shift beneath your feet. All the Avengers hear is your sharp intake of breath before the phone is falling out of your grip, tumbling down two stories and smashing into twisted iron. You cling to the stairs, doing your best to hold on as they groan, nearly detaching themselves from the wall.

"Fuck me," you groan, crawling forward, your eyes on the door. Your fingers curl around the frame, and you shove yourself forward just as the stairs, which shouldn't fucking collapse, do just that.

Great.

Now your phone is broken too!

Grumbling, you scoot back a couple spaces until you're against the wall, sighing.

Well, this isn't good.

You're not sure if you can make it around to the East side, where the other set of stairs are. 

Not by yourself.

So you sit, just for a few more minutes, wondering at your life choices that brought you to this moment in time. You know you can't sit forever, but it feels nice too, especially since your entire right side is numb.

Maybe you should have mentioned that to the others, huh?

Nah.

They wouldn't have helped you anyway.

You grimace, and after a few tries you make it to your feet again. You use the wall to help you walk, your steps slow and faltering. Your mind is on Bucky, and you know he must be frantic. He'll be doing everything he can to make his way to the tower, to try to find you, and that gives you some solace.

He'll do anything for you, you just hope he's okay.

Even Rogers.

You should have called him instead of Stark, Bucky's voice at least offers you comfort. 

Hey, isn't Natasha up here?

Running into her would be nice, this is the seventh floor, isn't it?

Your fingers leave a smear of blood as you shove away from a doorway, finally catching your balance. You manage to walk in a straight line, walking the long, twisting hallways you wouldn't think a building going straight up would have. You sigh, unable to hear anything, no voices, no gunshots.

Has everyone disappeared?

Maybe you're dead, stuck in limbo or something and cursed to wander this stupid building.

No, you're not that lucky, you'd be in Hell if you were dead.

Plus, your side hurts, so there's that.

You frown, following the signs, knowing the stairs are around somewhere.

Hmm? 

You shriek as you see a bullet blur past your head out of the corner of your eye, pinging off the wall.

"Don't shoot her!" You hear someone hiss as you look over your shoulder, already throwing yourself around the corner. "That's who we're here for!"

Wait, what?

Here for?

Oh shit, are they after you!?

Shit!

Just your freaking luck!

Hydra --- why do they want you so bad, anyway?

You're not that impressive!

You struggle forward, your sweater flashing behind you as you make a mad dash for the stairwell door you can see. You throw yourself forward, the soldiers thundering after you as you start up the stairs. You nearly crumple on the first step you take, and as it is, your legs go out from under you, causing you to collapse onto them.

You don't stop, just keep crawling forward, dragging yourself up each one.

Stupid legs.

Useless things!

You look behind you, fear settling in your stomach as the soldiers start for you. You hiss as they grab your shoulder, wrenching you up. You fling your hand outward, and immediately two of them go sailing through the open door, although you can't seem to shake the one holding you.

"Let go of me!" You snarl, glowering at him.

"Target acquired," you hear his muffled voice say from behind the mask. "She's injured, requires medical attention."

He's going to require medical attention!

You grit your teeth, and your eyes flare bright for several seconds, although you don't realize it.

The man holding you is suddenly yelling, and you look up, sending him sailing straight up the center of the stairwell, hitting rails and stone as he goes, landing hard on one of the upper floors. You look at the two soldiers left, and fling your hands forward just as they raise their guns, causing the metal weapons to bend back on themselves.

"You fucking assholes," you growl, and your hand slices sharply through the air, causing them to yell as something hits them, tossing them down the flight of stairs.

You're not helpless.

You sigh, leaning over the railing. You can see their crumpled forms a few stories down, and you don't care if they're dead or not.

Shouldn't have touched you.

You wish Bucky is there, you told him not to leave!

One day, someone is going to listen to you.

Well, you need to go down, that's the only way out of the building. You go to take one step, holding tight to the cold iron of the rail, only to hesitate.

Crap!

You watch as black-clad soldiers pour through all the open doors below, and you duck back as they begin firing upwards; hey, what about not hurting you!? You curse, and immediately start up, finally catching your second wind. You fly up the steps, your power unconsciously helping you move faster, your body moving thanks to it rather then your own motivation.

They're not going to get you!

Maybe you can flag Stark down from the roof or something!

You step over the body of the man you tossed up, and the roof door throws itself open before you ever reach it. You stagger out onto the roof, the sun burning down on your skin. It's hot outside, whereas it's always cold inside the building. You look around desperately, then make a mad dash for the edge of the roof. You grab onto the edge, looking down.

You can see Sam, flying through the air, slinging soldiers as he goes. Stark is buzzing around like a bee, zipping in and out of the building. You shout at them, waving your arms desperately, but they don't seem to see you so high up.

Dammit.

"(Y/N)."

Huh?

You turn,  and stare.

"Cody."