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angelbittyabuse · 3 years

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A flock of crows, part one

Behind the curtain: Wooops we had a coding glitch! So sorry, here’s the corrected version! There’s no trigger warning for this part, but there will be for the next one! Please don’t get too attached to the characters.

...

« Please don’t give me away! I’ll be a good bitty! Better! » He flails, hits the ground with his feets in his tantrum. His owner raises an eyebrow, his eyes lasting on the being, he seems to doubt... But no.

The pet creature was a cancer since day one. To the never-ending wailing had added hidden orders, reflexions and comments... Critics. On the way he was living, his way of clothing himself, the hour he was waking up on week-ends! He had took that baby blue as a good deed, since one of his friend was moving in where they weren’t allowed. But now? This good deed had been drown by months of hard feelings about this thing, high as two berrys but so irritating. Putting a flyer down in front of the bitty, the baby blue could clearly hear his owner tell…

« I’m bringing you where they will take care of you to your worth. » Blue was forced to take a few step back as the blow of the flyer nearly knocked him out of his feet. He bends to the paper, tries to read.

« Beaux Cieux Breeding ? » Stutters Blue, raising a questionning face to his human.

« You’ll end your days as a stallion. » His owner giggles. « I’m nearly jealous. »

...

The silence clearly didn’t came to the rendez-vous during the whole car ride. The pleading becomes thumping. Blue now yells to be heard, soiling the poor hamster cage he was carried away with tears and other colored fluids.

« HUMAN DON’T DO THAT !! » He bawls. « THIS IS THE WORST DECISION OF YOUR LIFE !! » The said human turns higher the radio volume but the screamings won’t stop anyway. What follows of the speech is the same refrain. ‘Not that you’re used to take good decisions ! / you’re gonna regret me / I’m your bitty and I love you ! / bring me home, I know you love me too !’. When Blue ends up understanding that he won’t have any answers, his words melt into a high-pitching wailing. The crys go on and on until the car stops in front of an adorable little farm, all that picturesque. At twenty minutes from town, the air there is pur. Half-feral cats hang out in the courtyard, rubbing themselves to the human legs as he slaps close his car’s door. This one used to be brand new, once there was a time, before that Blue idiot had this idea that a turquoise color will better fit a vehicule of his ‘magnificence’... And starts to repaint it with a colored pencil. The horrid cracks on his car painting would have finished convincing the human that his choice was for the best, if he had doubted it only a little.

« Welcome ! » A young girl, maybe forteen, comes running. Her full face and her lively eyes bring a smile to the human.

« Thanks! Are your parents here ? » He asks, this barely audible, drown by the bitty cries that came back stronger. The girl raises her shoulders.

« They’re busy. But they told me to take the bitty. You’re the person we had on the phone? » The human uses a small time to bring himself back together.

« Oh. Yes. Here’s Blue. Here... » He hands the cage and the girl takes it with a whole particular caution. The human goes away, missing by a second the glance of malice living in the girl’s eyes.

« So, Blue, we’re a lil grumpy? » She let away, gaining a truce in the cries. Blue raises his huge wet eyesockets to the teen. « Name’s Jessica and, you’ll see, you’ll have such a blast, here ! » Taking no care to the cats swarming to her feets whom were interested in the small rodent, she walks toward a small barn, a little far from the main house. Blue clumsily walks to the front of his cage, his cute lil hands holding the bars.

« You’re my new mommy ? » He ask, a shiver in his voice. Jessica softly laughs.

« Whatever. » She breaths, ignoring the dumb face of the bitty, falling apart to such an answer. Putting the cage to the ground, so she can push with both of her hands a door way too heavy, Blue see agglutinating around him the felides, meowing of hunger as if he was a can of tuna.

« Er... Jessica? » Squeals the scared bitty. But nobody answers him excepted the heavy creaking of the wood door. At last, the door had given up and opens on a dumping ground drown in darkness. Blue doesn’t have any time to prepare himself before his cage is balancing again at the end of the young girl arms. She dumps it in a CLANK that can’t be unheard on something that had metal on it- another cage? Then she rubs her hands.

« You’ll be fine, here, until the chirurgy. » Blue frozes to such speaking. Chirurgy? But wasn’t it...

Why would he needs chirurgy?

« I’m not ill ! » The bitty defends himself. « Chirurgy, it’s for people who’re really ill! » He whines but that does nothing if not amusing the teen. She doesn’t bother answering and goes away, having the same struggle to close the door after her. Just before the outside light dims into a stray of light, Blue has the time to see one of the cat slithers into the barn.

« Hey ! »

Then, the nothingness. Or it was what he belived. But as his eardrums get used to the lack of stimulis, he ends up earing way weaker sounds. The noise of one- no, hundreads of breathings, harshs, terrified, brokens. Mad laughing and wailing melted and- oh, the meowing develishly high-pitched of the cat, prowling through the aisles. The aisles... He eyesockets grows used to the darkness. There’s rows and rows... Is that cages? Blue let away a chocked breath.

« IS THERE SOMETHING HERE? » Yells the baby blue. He stands surprised not to have any answers and insists. « Please ! » The last word, a weak pleading.

« Shut the fuck up. » The blue’s eyesockets grows bigger.

« LANGUAGE !! » He spats, a reflex of when he was at the adoption center. One cage down, the red eyelights of what seems to be an edgy become sharper. He stares the maybe ennemi for a time before understanding what’s in front of his eyes.

« A baby blue. Tch. As if I needed that. » The voice sounds clear. The edgy have several months less than the baby blue.

« A JUNIOR! ALL FOR THE BETTER! MY MAGNIFICENT EXEMPLE WILL- »

« I don’t think that’s the time for that’. » White pupils shining in the cage in front of his calmly answer. Blue hesitates for a moment. A... Sansy ? « Just do what he says, we don’t really have the soul to have a chat. »

« Nonsense ! » Complains the little Blue. « I just arrived and I need answers ! » Useless to say that the tiny creature is deeply insulted. « At what time do we have a snack, here ? » There’s a silence, then the frenetical laughter of the edgy. Blue frowns. Did he... Missed snack time? It was so villain to laugh at him...! « Good, and what are we doing here? » He carrys on, a little less brave. « Oh, it’s for a birthday surprise, it is it? » His excited voice suddenly slips to the idea. « We are the gifts, aren’t we? » To whom will they be gifted? To a child who would play with them all day long? To a sweet human girl who would love cuddles? Or even to a monster, Blue wasn’t difficult! As long as the person would be willing to let them sleep in the bed...

« Fuck... » Laughs the red one. « I tell him ? »

« No ! » Yells the sansy in a panic. « Let him in his world. For now... » It was better to keep the eyesockets closed. It will always be time to stress out to the bone later one... But the edgy didn’t seem to want to hear such an answer. With a cruel smile, he blurted out.

« Eh, dumb-face... Look what’s over yout head! »

« UH ?? » Blue raises his face without thinking, suddenly noticing a glimpse of silver light hanging on the ceiling.

« It’s the ‘chirurgy chain’. » Continues the edgy, a sadistic tone ringing in his voice. « The shiny thingy, it’s a butcher hook~ >> He soft talks, exctatic, despite the whimperings of the sansy, trying his best to make him shut up. Blue’s bones grow paler as he registers the words.

« Ha... Haha? » He answers back. « YOU GOT ME WELL, EDGY, BUT I DID NOT FALL FOR THAT! THERE’S AN END TO ALL BAD JOKES! »

#Bitty whump #Bitty abuse #Bittybones abuse

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buckitybarnes · 5 years

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You and I [Bucky x Reader] ONESHOT

Summary: Bucky hasn’t seen you in ages, and watching you march along with the enemy sends a sickening feeling to his stomach.

Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff, humor, profanity, blood/mild gore.

Author’s Note: Has not been checked for spelling/fluency errors bc hi I’m your local lazy sometimes-writer. The song is ‘You and I’ by Barns Courtney and it’s been stuck in my head forever. God, I love it so much. pls listen

Last Chapter

He hasn’t seen you in three months.

Three long months that felt like years and years.

That’s just how it is. When you’re not with someone you love, time just slows and the sun takes its time setting each day.

He misses you, that much can be said.

He wonders if, when you see him, will you recognize his bearded face? His tired blue eyes?

His lonely smile?

He slips the blade of his knife out of an enemy sentry, wiping it clean of blood before sheathing it. His face is dimly lit by the torch hung inside the underground entrance. His blood-speckled cheek shines under the glow, as his eyes dart around in search for more.

With one quick glance at the dead body, he urges himself to move forward, lips pursed into a thin line.

He hasn’t seen you in three months. No words have been exchanged on either side.

What if you had met the same fate as that man back there?

His stomach churns as he stealthily moves on. Taking in deep, calming breaths, he rehearses a song in his head. The very last one he heard when you were around. It was the day since you ran off. You’d been singing it in the kitchen, twirling and mimicking the deep voice.

Bucky has taken this song and has committed it to memory. It was the last happy memory he had of you.

Suitcase in your hand Wave goodbye to mom and dad Never thought I would see the back of you

Mixtape's wearing down Crystal ships are sailing out Now the doors are opening for you...

He hears the sound of marching. It had to have been about twenty or more soldiers. Someone shouts a phrase in Russian and the army parrots it back.

He holds his breath and peers in from around the corner.

Just as predicted, the bunker is full of people. Half of them are training on dummies. The other half is running through a battle formation in the dead center.

Bucky can’t take them all out on his own.

Then again, he didn’t come to do so. He just wanted to see you. To get you back.

You didn’t belong in this hell house -- with these scrappy, dirty dogs.

He almost doesn’t see you, almost wants to throw up thinking that you weren’t here with the rest of them.

But then he spots your familiar form, slightly leaner than normal, but not malnourished enough to blend in with these soldiers. When they all do a 90-degree turn to the right, he sees your eyes, so dead and cold.

So unlike you.

He bites his bottom lip to keep from calling out for you. Instead, he decides to observe and find a better way to extract you.

I wanna swim, swim out into the dark night I wanna melt you down into the stars I wanna crumble, dumble like a landslide I wanna live, die wherever you are...

“planovaya proverka,” the leader shouts.

Like robots, the marching troop forms two long lines. You end up on the left, side-by-side with a big burly man. There’s only a pair of people in front of you.

Routine Inspection, Bucky translates. The hell does that mean? He can only imagine…

Aggressively, the leader slams his foot down. In clean, unbroken English, he speaks. “Step up and begin.”

Within a split second, a lady in front of you whips around to her partnered teammate and throws herself clumsily at him. Her weight slams against him, causing him to stumble back. He grunts in discomfort but recovers quickly enough to catch her incoming punch. Holding her by her fist, he twists it. The crack of bone echoes throughout the room.

Supersoldiers.

And they’re playing dirty to impress the commander.

The woman growls ferally, almost unfazed by the pain. She plants her foot on his chest and thrusts him back, but he keeps his hold, pulling her forward. They wrestle like two animals, scratching, kicking, doing anything to gain the upper hand. And when they’re both left a bloodied mess, the leader smirks.

“One of you showed great potential.” He points to the man. “Powerful moves -- not pitiful like hers. This isn’t a cat fight.” He glares down at the woman soldier, who, despite having been calm this whole session, is now breaking out into a sweat. “We don’t allow pieces of shit to live.”

“Please,” she chokes out, stumbling to her knees and bowing desperately. “N-no I’m -- I can do better.”

“So can they,” the commander states coldly. “A lot fuckin’ better.”

Without another word, she’s whacked in the head by the handle of a rifle. One of the guards pulls her groaning form up by the collar of her uniform and drags her out.

On the way, a scared, blood-curdling scream tears through her.

Bucky winces, but when he looks to you, he sees absolutely nothing.

No emotion.

Cold dead eyes.

“Next.”

And Bucky’s heart drops out of his chest when he sees you step forward with the large man.

He knows you can take a beating, can reciprocate and overpower, but it’s no less sickening to watch. Part of him wants to rush in, guns blazing. The other part knows that it would only get you both killed.

“Begin.”

Immediately, you dodge an incoming attack. In fact, you’re stubbornly defensive, blocking and dodging at lightning speed while your enemy tries to bash you like a bull. The fight is a complete opposite of the previous. Instead of two clumsy oafs fighting each other, this one is more tactical and thought out on one end.

He’s a supersoldier. You’re not.

Bucky realizes that you’re trying to use agility over brute force, tire him out at least a fraction before going in for the kill.

‘That’s my girl,’ he thinks, smiling proudly.

It goes on for another ten minutes until the commander grows restless. “That’s enough bullshitting,” he snaps at you. “Finish him off.”

Neither of you backs down, and you continue dodging against the leader’s demands. Finally, your face breaks out into a weak smile. You fail to deflect this man’s next attack and his fist slams into your gut, knocking the air out of your lungs and sending you crashing into the ground a few feet away.

Bucky breaks out into a sweat.

The commander scoffs. “What the hell happened to you?” he asks. “You lost your touch.”

Forcing oxygen back into your lungs, you remain on the ground, staring up at the commander with a twinkle of amusement in your eyes. “Whoops. My bad?”

It’s the most emotion you’ve given Bucky throughout this whole fight.

“You’ve still got that little attitude of yours,” the commander sneers, eyes full of hate and disgust. “I see breaking your finger and stabbing you in the hand didn’t do much.”

“Baby shit,” you retort, grunting when one of the guards pulls you up by the hair forces you onto your knees. The barrel of his gun presses against the back of your head. Still, you smile. “And I’m your strongest asset, I know you can’t kill me.”

Bucky fumbles with his comms, turning it on and tapping a code to call in reinforcements. He doesn’t care if he compromises your mission. He wants you out. Now.

The leader freezes for a moment before rage floods his features. You saw right through him, and he was not happy. He needed you, needed you to fight for his side because you were right. You were his strongest soldier.

So instead of killing you on the spot, he decides to make an example.

The guard keeps you held in place while the commander steps down from his platform.

Without a moment to spare, he tilts your chin up with one hand while the other balls into a fist. “You mouthy bitch.” Your eyes screw shut, waiting for the impact.

Until a song blares through the sound system, the one that was used for announcements and emergency protocols.

Lovesick melody, carry my words across the sea Tell her I miss her, tell her I'm torn in two Salt burns in my eyes, none of these streets feel right tonight I'll be your Robin, you'll be my baby blue….

He pauses in absolute confusion before a wholehearted laugh escapes your lips.

“What the hell is this?” he shouts.

I wanna swim, swim deep into the dark night I wanna melt you down into the stars I wanna crumble, dumble like a landslide I wanna live, die wherever you are

I would flag down any motorist I'd run the whole damn fight For you and I, you and I, you and I...

“Your downfall, sir,” you reply bittersweetly.

The pressure on your head lifts when a gunshot echoes across the room. The sentry behind you falls, a bullet between his eyes.

One of your comrades loads his rifle back up, and this time aims for the commander himself. He doesn’t even get the chance to speak, as a bullet embeds itself into his skull.

Chaos breaks out in the bunker.

People turn on each other, suddenly realizing they had traitors in their group.

You break out into a sprint, going for a gun from the man you had just been in a brawl with. He holds it out to you as he shoots others with his Glock.

Bucky doesn’t waste time, he loads up his own gun and shoots anyone in your path. He doesn’t know who’s good or who’s bad, but he goes for anyone that’s running after you.

And when you finally accept the weapon from your comrade, Bucky makes his way into the battlefield, dodging bullets and bodies as he approaches.

“Sorry ‘bout the punch, lass,” the man shouts over the screams of the damned.

You roll your eyes, covering his back while he covers yours. “You punch your momma with that fist, Riley? I’ve met bigger supersoldiers than you.” He lets out a belly laugh and shoots a woman running in your direction. When he sees Bucky, he aims for him too.

That is until he calls out your name.

You’ve run out of bullets and decide to use your knife instead. You slit open an enemy’s throat, their blood spraying and hitting you just slightly across the face. When you turn to see Bucky, your heart thrums against your chest. “This isn’t as sexy of a reuinion as I wanted it to be,” be you mutter dumbly.

Someone rushes after you from behind but Bucky’s faster to shoot.

As soon as their body falls, you snap out of your stupor and stand your ground.

“No, that was absolutely fuckin’ sexy,” he calls back, keeping his back against yours.

You, Bucky and Riley all form a triangle with your backs against each other as you take out enemies one by one.

“So this is the boyfriend I’ve been hearing about,” Riley jokes, his finger pulling the trigger skillfully.

Bucky feels warmth bloom in his chest. “You talk about me?”

“Bucky, I love you and Riley, you’re an asshole, but can we save this sappy conversation for later?” you stab into a body on the ground when it started to writhe, putting them out of their misery.

The battle rages on, backup from the enemy team rushing in from all entrances of the bunker.

At some point, your trio had to split to help other comrades. You’re bloodied and bruised and everything hurts like a bitch.

When the dust settles, all that’s left is your side of the battle.

Bodies of the enemies spread across the bunker, pooling the ground bloodbath. You’ve lost men on your side too. Good men. People you have come to know during your time here as an undercover agent.

Your eyes scan the massacre, dread clawing at your chest like an animal.

“Baby.”

Your gaze sweeps up to an incoming soldier. He presses his ear comms, most likely calling in for extraction vehicles.

Bucky Barnes.

You want to shout his name, run and jump into his arms, but you can’t. Your legs feel like lead.

It had been three trying months here at the H.O.U.N.D. underground facility. Three months of planning to uproot them and find allies amongst the sea of mindless robots. It wasn’t easy, but you remained strong, even without the love of your life at your side.

Now that everything is said and done, you feel so, so tired. Your bottom lip trembles as you stare at Bucky, wanting him to hold you and get you the hell out of here.

Like a mind-reader, his footsteps quicken until he’s in front of you and he catches you when your knees give out. “Hey, Sweetheart. You’re okay. Mission accomplished,” he says shakily, inspecting your form for any injuries. He finds only minor cuts and bruises. The more major, older injuries have more or less healed. Thank God.

“That’s a lot of paperwork,” you joke tearfully, looking over his shoulder to see your comrades pull dead bodies to the side. You screw your eyes shut, the tears rolling down your cheeks and soaking Bucky’s neck.

These people were unwillingly made soldiers to begin with. They had families, friends. And the ones that didn’t join your resistance were too far gone to save. In fear of torture and death, they played their roles as loyal lapdogs. They kind of reminded you of Bucky. When you made this observation while training here alongside them, you had to wonder if this is what hell is really like. And if so, how on Earth did Bucky survive this?

You recall the screams of the unsuccessful, weaker soldiers that you would hear each night in your cell. You remember your skin crawling and your hair standing on end. You remember missing Bucky and the rest of your family.

And now that you’re going back to them, you don’t ever want to let them go.

“You liked the song I used?” you whisper, slowly coming back to yourself again. You only now realize that he’s carrying you in his arms. The crisp air brushes against your skin as you take in the sight of the night sky. You haven’t seen these stars in ages. You missed them too.

“Always one for theatrics,” he laughs, his chest rumbling against you. He pulls a smile out of you, and he can feel it against his neck. His heart thumps, skips a beat, and speeds up. “The compound was lonely without you.”

“I was lonely without you all. Without you,” you murmur, eyelids drooping. But you want to keep them open, breathe in this cool air and put it all into memory. It was your last day here. The day you saved more innocent people than the ones you killed. The day you saw your Bucky Barnes again after what felt like centuries.

He pulls you tighter against him, ignoring the pain from bruising. “Get some rest. I’ve got you.” He chuckles when you shake your head and mumble a half-hearted noise of defiance. “Steve agreed not to put you on any missions for at least a few weeks. You can Netflix-binge all you want.”

“You gon’ join me?” you ask sleepily. Even after a gruesome battle, the scent of Bucky’s cologne -- the scent of vanilla and spice still remain. It always soothed you.

“Of fuckin’ course I will. I’ll sit next to you and help you with the mission files so you don’t have to worry ‘bout them.”

For a moment, you go silent, and Bucky wonders if you had finally dozed off.

“Bucky?” you whisper shakily, tears beginning to form again.

“Yeah?”

“We need a vacation. Somewhere warmer.” You squeeze him, trying to ground yourself before you start to spiral again. “Somewhere with more light too.”

He pulls back his head and you do the same. Gently, he presses his lips against yours, trying to comfort you as much as he’s trying to comfort himself. “I’ll go anywhere as long as it’s with you.” He wipes away a stray tear before pushing your head back down to rest against his shoulder. He continues his stride to the car.

Perhaps it was a coincidence, or Steve Rogers being a little shit when he started up the car for you two, but a familiar song plays on the radio and rings through the air. The melody reaches both of you and calms you down.

Just you and I, I, I, I Just you and I, just you and I, I….

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #writing #fanfic #wolf writes #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader #white wolf #captain america #angst #fluff #oneshot #you and i

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

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Soft Names, Soft Touches

Chapter Eleven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 4.2K+

Warnings: Angst. Violence. Russian that may or may not be correct.

Franki sank onto the seat of the swing in Central Park and sobbed softly against the chain. Everything she knew was a lie. Everything she felt was only a fabrication by Hydra. Her serum, her body, all of it had been one big genetic experiment to create matches for the Winter Soldier program.

She was a broodmare.

The only reason they had trained her this well was so if her partner ever got too aggressive, she could defend herself long enough for help to arrive. She wasn’t a field operative and the missions they had wanted to send her on, the ones she’d always refused, had been breeding missions. She was supposed to entice her soldier into fucking her until she was pregnant, and then she would be put in stasis, a chemically induced coma so she couldn’t abort the child until the offspring was born and they could begin the cycle anew.

It made her sick.

They’d played with her pheromones, done something to her to make her sexually attractive to the winter soldiers. That was why they put her in the room that day. Not to kill her, but so he could beat her down long enough to fuck her. Only she’d fought to the bitter end, and they’d been afraid he would actually kill her so they’d pulled her out.

Then she’d healed and made herself very interesting. What if they could unlock her genetic code? Create a bevy of females that healed like she did? Imagine the soldiers they could create. They could put their altered females back in with the men in days rather than weeks.

“Oh god… we were nothing more than animals…” she whimpered, leaning her head against the chain.

But it hadn’t worked the way they wanted it to. The men were all too feral, too dangerous, and eventually killed their partner. Whether on purpose or by accident the reports didn’t say. She’d been the last, and they had screwed with her the most. They’d played with her chemical makeup. Changed it, messed it up, and had turned her into a walking weapon. A weapon aimed… at Bucky.

She didn’t know how they’d done it, but, somehow, they’d made her into the perfect woman for the first Winter Soldier. Her scent was altered to be something he couldn’t resist, and when his skin came in contact with hers, it released a chemical reaction that bound them together. The closer they got, the tighter the bond. If she had slept with him before his leaving… it could have been so much worse.

It had been Hydra’s plan all along to dump her on Bucky’s doorstep. From there it was only a matter of time before nature took its course, and then Hydra would have done everything to get her back.

And Bucky would have come for her, do anything they said to save her because he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself. She was a danger to him, and the farther away she was, the better. They hadn’t completed the bond yet, and if they stayed apart, it would, she hoped, fade. But for now, it fucking hurt.

“Hey? You okay? You need help?”

The voice was familiar, as was the flash of light over her face, and Franki looked up to find Officer Jack looking back.

“Franki Romanoff?” he murmured quietly, staring in horror at the woman. She looked absolutely devastated, and he took a step towards her. “Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need me to call the tower?”

“No!” she hollered, jerking upright. “Don’t call the tower. I am fine. I will go.” She got to her feet and nearly fell.

“Miss, if you’ll pardon my say so, you ain’t alright,” Jack murmured, moving to take her arm.

Jerking it away, Franki shook her head, tears streaming from her eyes. “Please… don’t… nothing good comes of people touching me.”

“Ma’am… Franki,” he said softly, watching her fold in on herself, “You got a place to stay tonight?”

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled for him, but it was a weak one.

“Course you will. You’re coming home with me. My wife will be pleased as punch to have you.” He motioned for her to join him. “Come on, now.” He didn’t know what had happened between her and her team, or her and Sergeant Barnes, but he wasn’t about to leave a clearly upset woman alone in Central Park; didn’t matter who she was.

She looked at him standing there, all of thirty-five if he was a day, but he had that look that she’d come to think of as the dad look. Steve wore it sometimes, or Tony, when they were trying to be patient, but they expected obedience. “I do not wish to be trouble.”

Her accent grew thick and made him smile. “No trouble. Promise.” Slowly, she walked out of the park, and carefully stepped over the fence with him. She moved like she was broken, but he couldn’t tell if it was physical or emotional damage. “We have to go through the park and a bit down the other side. You going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Super… soldier….” She made to remind him but faltered when she remembered that wasn’t what she’d been made for.

“Hey, you want to talk about it? I’m a pretty fair listener,” he urged softly, heading home with what felt like a shadow in a red coat dogging him.

“No, thank you,” she murmured, head down, keeping pace.

“You change your mind…” he offered, but when she only looked away, he began to talk about anything and everything. Little antidotes of things he’d heard or seen in the park. Stories about people he’d met or arrested. Comments on things that had changed or stayed the same for years, until he came to the brick building that housed the apartment he shared with his wife and son. “It ain’t much, but its home.”

“It is quaint,” Franki murmured.

“Well, it’s no Stark Tower, that’s for sure,” Jack chuckled.

“I lived in an eight by ten cell for roughly thirteen years,” Franki mumbled, looking at the glowing windows, and wondering about the lives and the stories behind them. “This is nice.”

It wasn’t the information that caused his heart to plummet, no, it seemed all those who called themselves Avengers were destined for tragic backstories, but the way she said it. It was so off-the-cuff like it was normal in her world to have been kept like an animal for what must have been a good chunk of her life. “Come on,” he encouraged, holding open the door.

She stepped past him, taking in all points of entry, before following Jack up the stairs to his third-floor apartment. She wasn’t really sure why she’d agreed to follow him home like a lost puppy, but, maybe it was for just that very reason. A lost puppy was precisely what she felt like.

Opening the locks on his door, Jack stepped inside to a softly glowing stove light. “Looks like Tam’s already gone to bed, but I can make us some tea if you want?” He offered quietly, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it on the hook behind the door. He looked at her expectantly, but she only huddled deeper into the red wool. “Franki, you don’t mind if I call you Franki, right?” She shook her head, and he smiled. “You’re safe here. Why not take your coat off and stay awhile?”

He held out his hand, and she clutched the collars of her coat tightly before slowly shrugging it free and handing it over. It went on top of his, and when he motioned her to take a seat on the pea green sofa, she did so without fuss.

While he was busy in the kitchen, Franki had a quick look around, again noting the entrances and exits, but her eyes were drawn to all the brick-a-brack that sat on every flat surface. There were china dogs and painted ladies, and cats, and birds. There were crystal candy dishes and glass animals. On the back of the sofa was a colourful lap quilt that looked old and well loved. Pictures hung on the walls, family gatherings and outings.

A wedding photo had her looking swiftly away. That hollow feeling that had bloomed in her chest when Bucky was gone, returned with a vengeance and made it hard to breathe.

In the kitchen, Jack kept his hands busy making tea but took the time to send a quick text to his partner to get in touch with Stark Tower and let them know Franki Romanoff was safe and in his home. If she looked like this, he could only imagine what the others looked like.

When the kettle boiled, he filled the cups and returned to find her staring at one of his wife’s weird statues with a funny look on her face. “Tam calls it collecting. I call it hoarding.” He chuckled softly, setting the cup down in front of Franki and sitting across from her.

“Are they always this…”

“Go ahead, you can say it. They’re hideous.” He chuckled again and sipped at his tea.

Picking up her cup, Franki quelled the quick twitch of her lips. “Do you always invite strangers home with you in the dead of night, Jack?”

“Only strangers I know,” he quipped back, head turning when he heard the squeak of floorboards. “Why don’t you come out and say hello, Jimmy.”

Franki’s eyes darted to the partially opened door where the fuzzy blond head poked through. The boy was no more than five and was absolutely precious in his soft grey jammies with the red stars all over them. It slammed through her that these were his Bucky Barnes pajamas, and she had to quickly swipe a tear away. “Hello, Jimmy,” she murmured, her voice raspy.

Shooting her a glance, Jack wondered if she had issues with kids, but the look on her face was the same one she’d worn for Barnes. Evidently, his son had captured another feminine heart, this one an Avenger. “Jimmy, this nice lady is Franki Romanoff. She works with Sergeant Barnes.”

His sweet, cherub face lit up when he looked at her and matched the charming voice. “You know Bucky Barnes!?”

His eyes were huge, and she nodded slowly. When Jack had turned his son to face her, she felt her heart clench in her chest for the little boy’s left sleeve hung empty. But his eyes were big and bright, so full of excitement that she couldn’t help but smile. How could someone so small be so adorable already? “I do, yes.”

“My daddy brought me a picture! I like Bucky! He’s my favourite Avenger.”

His enthusiasm made her smile, even though her heart shattered. “Me too,” she whispered. Was it any wonder Bucky was his favourite?

“Are you an Avenger, too?” he asked, eyes big and round.

“I am…” or, at least, she had been. “I’m the one they call Reaper,” she murmured and pulled her hood up over her head. The display came to life, and she found multiple messages from all the team, begging her to come back. They could figure this out, work it out together, and when the little red flashing notice read tracking she murmured, “Friday… I can’t yet. Please. I need time.” The notice turned off, and she sighed, “Thank you.” Pushing back her hood, she looked tiredly at Jack. “Can I use your phone?”

“Sure!” he leapt up, his son in his arms, and found her the cordless one. “Here you go!” He took Jimmy and headed into the kitchen to give her a semblance of privacy.

Franki dialled a number she knew by heart and was unsurprised when it rang only once. “Sestra.”

“Sestranka! Where are you? Are you alright? I’m coming to get you.” Natasha was on her feet and turned for the door when the phone was wrenched from her hand.

“Franki? Tell me where you are!” Bucky demanded.

“Bucky…” a sob broke free.

It made his heart ache. “Moya zvezdochka, come home. We can work this out together.”

“Did you read it?” she whispered.

“Da.”

“Then you know why I can’t. I’m a danger to you. You can’t be with me.” A second sob broke from her, and she pressed her hand to her mouth.

“That’s not true! Come home, Francessca!”

“Nothing you feel for me is real. It’s all lies! I won’t be your weakness, Bucky. I won’t!” She hung up the phone and collapsed over her knees, sobbing into her arms. It felt like she'd just torn out her own soul.

It took her a few moments to notice the slight weight on her shoulder that was stroking down her arm, almost as if it was petting her. When she turned to look, little Jimmy patted her arm.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he said, tears dripping from his eyes. “I’m sad cause my Pop-Pop went to heaven. Sometimes Nonna cries when she thinks I’m napping. She calls tears liquid memories.” Pushing at her arms, he crawled up on her knee. “Are you and Bucky fighting? My momma and daddy do, sometimes, but then they say sorry and kiss each other, and everything is all better.”

His big hazel eyes looked up at her with such trust, such sincerity, she started to cry all over again and hugged the little boy tightly. Something about him soothed a part of the hollowness inside her; his innocence like nothing she’d ever known. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured into his crown of golden fuzz. “I’m bad for him. He won’t be safe with me around.”

“Sergeant Barnes can handle anything! He’s the Winter Soldier!” Jimmy stated, thinking it strange that she would worry for someone so strong.

Tucking her face down in his hair, she breathed in a scent that she would never forget. How was it possible for a trust to have a smell? Or hope? Or love? Yet, this boy in her arms smelled like all of the above. “You’re a good boy, Jimmy. Thank you.” He snuggled closer, and she lightly stroked his back.

They stayed that way for a while, his breathing slow and steady, and his presence in her arms a soothing one. Jack drank his tea in companionable silence, not asking though she knew he wanted to until a knock came at the door.

Looking sharply to Jack, Franki murmured, “You expecting anyone?” This was not the time of night one got random callers at the door.

“No.” He shook his head.

Getting up slowly, careful of the little boy who’d fallen back to sleep, she handed him to his father. “Go into the room with your wife. Lock the door and don’t come out until I tell you it is safe.” She tucked the phone down with him. The knock came a second time, and she mouthed the words "who is it?"

“Who is it?” Jack called out.

“Jack? It’s Ronny. Let me in.”

“Ronny?” That was weird. “Just give me a sec to put Jimmy down. I’ll be right there.” He looked into the suddenly cold silver eyes of Franki and shivered as he confessed, “I told him to call the tower, tell them you were here and safe. That was it.”

“How long has he been your partner?”

“Couple of years.” But… when Shield had fallen after Hydra had been outed, they’d all learned the evil organization was good at blending in. “There’s a handgun on top of the fridge in a lockbox. Key is hanging there.” He nodded his head toward the wall. “Franki…”

“No, Jack. Keep your family safe. You redial that last number. That’s Natasha. Tell her code red, and she will find me with the snow cats.” She pushed him towards the door on the other side of the kitchen and reached for the lock box. A quick tug snapped the lock, and he stared at her, amazed before she gave a sharp jerk of her head. “Go!” she hissed, turning to pull knives out of the block beside the stove. The door shut behind him, and she heard the lock snick before something heavy landed in front of the door.

Flicking her hood up, she looked towards the hallway. There were five men out there. Five Hydra agents, she just knew it, and she stepped closer to Jack’s bedroom door. “Jack, make that call. Do it now.” She could just hear him talking as she turned out the stove light and skated into shadows, making her way to the door. Removing the chain as silently as she could, Franki grabbed the lock and whispered to Friday, “I need to sound like Jack.”

“Go ahead.” The AI said.

“Come on in, Ronny. Just keep it down. Franki fell asleep on the couch.” She turned the deadbolt and leapt up to sit nimbly on top of the curio cabinet behind the door. It banged inwards, the men swarming with weapons drawn, but she waited until the last one was through before slamming it shut and leaping into the darkness.

Two went down with knives through their necks, the third took one in the thigh that she wrenched out and swiped across his throat. He fell through Jack’s coffee table, taking out a host of Tam’s collectables.

The fourth managed to fire his weapon. The bullet slammed into her side causing heat to erupted along her skin. It fractured a rib, tore through her liver, and exited out the back according to Friday and Franki knew it was bad. The amount of blood that poured down her side was a terrible thing.

She shot him point blank in the chest. The last one was Ronny, and she sank back into the shadows to buy some time, pressing her hand against the front of her wound. “Hydra send you?”

“Like you don’t already know,” he scoffed, turning a circle to find her.

“They going to try and use me against Bucky?”

“Well, look at you go, sweetheart. Got it in one,” he sneered, swinging his gun towards a shadow he thought had moved.

“I refused to be Hydra’s pawn for thirteen years. I’m sure as hell not going to be their pawn now, and I will never let them use me against Bucky!” Stepping up behind him out of the dark, she grabbed his head and gave it a quick, concise twist to the right. The snap was most gratifying.

As his body fell, she dashed to the windows that overlooked the street. More men had arrived, most in tactical gear, all packing weapons. “Jack!” she called out. “You’re going to need to move your family. I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll make sure it’s handled. Your partner was a Hydra agent.”

A female voice called back, “I knew there was something wrong with him!”

“Tam, not now.” Jack sighed. Shoving the dresser from the door, he walked into the kitchen. “Well… damn…” he whistled. There were five dead people in his living room.

“You may not want your wife to see…” but the woman in the pink nightgown was already striding into the room, Jimmy’s face tucked firmly against her chest with her hand over his eyes. The little boy didn't even whimper, and she was impressed with how tough he was.

“Honey, I’m retired Army Ranger. You go, girl!” Tam grinned.

A smile worked its way onto Franki’s face. “You three better get out of here. You got a neighbour you can go to?”

“Right in here, sweetie! I heard all that commotion. You three come with me.”

Came a voice from the hall and Franki turned to see a woman, who had to be seventy if she was a day, open the door and wave them over. “Good, go. I’ll get them to follow me. They’re not after you. Did you speak with Nat?” she asked, stepping into the hallway and grabbing for the wall when her vision dimmed.

“Jesus, Franki! You’re bleeding!” Jack reached for her, and she stepped away. “You need help!”

“Friday?” The suit sealed over. “I’ll be fine. Get going.”

He shook his head, but she shoved him in the door of his neighbour's apartment. “I will not be responsible for you ending up dead! Stay here and stay quiet!” She’d barely gotten the door shut when the ones at either end of the hall slammed open.

Diving back through the doorway, she jumped over the dead men and went straight through the glass window onto the fire escape, making as much racket as possible. More agents were climbing up, and she shot the front-runner through the eye causing him to fall back and domino the rest. Darting up the stairs, she muttered, “Friday, I need options!” Calculating flashed a few times before a route was mapped out that led to the zoo and the snow leopard pen. “Da!”

Climbing quickly, she made for the roof.

Bucky placed Natasha’s phone down with extreme care. It was that or throw the thing as hard as he could. “She won’t come back. Says it was all lies. Nothing we feel is real.”

“Horseshit!” Helen snapped from her place before the computer.

“Doctor?” Tony asked, intrigued.

“She clearly didn’t read these through or didn’t understand what she was reading. Her skin and your skin react to each other, release pretty potent pheromones, and are creating a chemical bond.”

“What?” Bucky gasped.

“She’s your chemically perfect match. It was what they were trying to create with the other pairs, but here’s the kicker. This program of Hydra's? It didn’t work. Not with any of the other subjects and they were abandoning it. She was slated to be terminated the same day you rescued her. Originally they had planned to mess with her systems and drop her on you, but when the reconditioning continued to fail, and then none of the other pairs worked, they gave up.”

Helen turned to look at them all staring at her with different levels of stunned confusion. “Don’t you get it? Hydra has no idea that Franki is Bucky’s match! They haven’t got any clue that she literally holds the keys to his sanity! Look at this!” She drew up medical scans of Bucky that Friday had been compiling. “Testosterone, elevated. Cortisol, elevated. His whole damn endocrine system is going into overdrive! If you don’t get her back here, he’s liable to go into a rage, become highly aggressive, and will continue to be so without thought or desire for anything else.”

“What are you saying, doc?” Steve finally asked, needing the clarification, but he was pretty sure he knew what she meant. She’d basically describe the last three weeks.

“I’m saying…” Helen sighed, passing a hand over her face. “It’s too late. Whatever Franki thought she was saving you both from by running… it’s too late. She’ll do more damage than good at this point. But she’s wrong when she says what you feel are lies. Tony told me you two got together around the same time I did my last batch of tests?” Bucky nodded, and she smiled. “Then what you feel is most certainly real. Did you have feelings for her before touching her?”

“Well, yeah…” Bucky murmured.

“And did you ever come in contact with her skin before then?”

“No.” Bucky knew it for certain. Francessca didn’t like to be touched, and he’d respected that until things between them had changed.

“How you feel about someone has little to do with pheromones. Sure they can make that person more attractive to you, but they can’t make you fall in love. Shit, if you were going to fall victim to some Hydra shenanigans, some chemical pairing they planned to make you compliant by taking away your woman, you would have succumbed to your hormonal urges within a week of meeting her. Hell, we are all susceptible to pheromones. You’re with her because you want to be, right?” Again the man who was the Winter Soldier nodded. “Then for god's sake go get her!” She jerked up another screen, showing the same readings for Franki. “Just like with you and all your aggression, she needs you to balance her too, but she goes the other way. For her…” Helen pulled up the video from the pool, the one Tony had sent her and showed it to Bucky. “It becomes extreme grief.”

Bucky's heart plummeted to his feet as he watched her cry her eyes out. “Steve…”

“We’ll find her, Buck,” Cap said. “Trace on that call?”

“Narrowed to a five-block area. She’s on the other side of the park,” Sam muttered.

“Her suit just came online again!” Tony called out, working fast to make certain he could pinpointing her location before she shut the tracking down again. “Got it!” He smacked his hand down on the console and had his latest Iron Man suit crawl up his arm.

Nat’s phone rang in her hand, and she quickly answered it. “Franki?”

“Natasha Romanoff? This is Officer Jack O’Shea, I met Franki and Sergeant Barnes in Central Park about four weeks ago. She’s been at my place tonight. I was told to call and tell you code red, you’ll find her with the snow cats.”

“Dammitl! How the hell did they find her before we did? Thank you, Officer. We're on our way.” She ended the call. “Everyone gear up! Hydra’s after Franki!”

“I thought you said they didn’t know!?” Bucky snarled at Dr. Cho.

“They don’t, but that doesn’t mean they won’t still try and use her against you. Your relationship isn’t exactly a secret!” Helen shouted back.

“Neither of you are helping matters!” Tony stepped between them. “Barnes! She needs us! Hurry up! I’m going on ahead.” Before anyone could say otherwise, he flew out the window that opened in the ceiling.

Next chapter

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