Bucky Barnes Fandom - Blog Posts

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?“

"Can I kiss you?”.

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn’t. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

Keep reading

Daddy? - b. barnes

a/n; just a little headcanon on how I feel Bucky would react to his s/o being pregnant- worried and scared mainly.

pairing; TFATWS Bucky x female! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 563

headcanon; Finding out girlfriend/fiancée/wife is pregnant.

links; Marvel Matserlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

Blinking in confusion, it took him a minute to process what was said and that’s when it had hit him. Did he hear what you had said correctly? You were pregnant?

Feels like his heart stopped for a moment. Part of him feels like this is the last thing he wanted to happen right now. The other half practically screaming for joy.

The internal conflict he felt soon showed on his face. Was he ready to be a dad? He certainly didn't feel ready. Not in the slightest.

He'd only just gotten back to being classed as a normal citizen, not only by his therapist but the government as well. He didn’t want to mess that up so soon with emotions that threatened to overflow.

How could someone who was known to be a cold-blooded killer, despite his now successful attempt to fit back into society be deemed fit enough to look after a tiny life?

He certainly didn't think he would be fit enough as his eyes glanced at the objects you held in your outstretched hands.

A scan picture in one hand, showing the tiny life slowly growing in you. In the other a tiny little bodysuit with the words "Sergeant In Training coming soon!"

The look on your face was one of pure joy as you looked at him, your joy dropping as you chewed your lip in anticipation for his actual reaction. You both knew it was bound to happen sooner or later - he couldn’t keep his hand off you half the time.

How it hadn’t happened earlier was beyond you. Yet here you were, proof in your hands as your figure began to swell slightly. "James? Are you okay?".

He'd been zoned out for so long he that didn't realise you had moved forward until he looked down, seeing your eyes look up at him as you continued to hold the items in your hands.

Wrapping his arms around you, he embraced you, holding you close to him as he smiled softly. His grip on you never fading as he rubbed patterns on the small of your back, afraid to let you go now you're carrying something precious to not only him but you. "Yes doll, I'm okay~".

Leans down and peppers kisses all over your face, enjoying the sound of your small laughs as you hug closer to him. “~Besides, I should be asking you if you're okay. After all, it might not be an easy pregnancy for you".

The reality is he's scared. Scared because he doesn't know if he's fit to look after something so small and delicate when they arrive.

Also, he’s scared for you. Carrying a super soldier's child was rumoured to be an extremely difficult time. All thanks to that serum once used. “James, I'm okay. As long as I take care, I'll handle whatever this little one throws at me".

He steps back from you after removing his arms, placing his flesh hand on your slightly swollen stomach. Your soft hum lulling him as your hands cover his.

He loves you. He adores you. He'll protect you and support you no matter how hard it is.

It's the least he can do, after all, you did that for him. You never backed down and you fought with such pride and love, he knows you’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Unsure - b. barnes

a/n; welcome to my first piece of writing! this is from ‘aphrodisia’ which is found on both Wattpad & ao3. hope you enjoy!

pairing; winter soldier! bucky x gender neutral! reader

reblogs/feedback/likes are appreciated & encouraged. DO NOT repost/steal any of my works.

warnings; n/a

word count; 352

prompt based; “Can I kiss you?"

links; Marvel Materlist | Masterlist

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

"Can I kiss you?".

Blinking in confusion for a moment, you tilted your head at the male in front of you as the words processed in your head. Had you heard right? Surely you hadn't. Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you. Humming out slightly, you held your hand out in front of you for him to take before stepping forward.

The eyes of the Soldat watched your movements carefully as he tried to assess the situation. Had he gone too far? Maybe he had moved too fast? Ever since he'd managed to escape the clutches of HYDRA with your help he had a hard time trying to gauge how both you and he felt.

He had spent so long being told to feel one way that anything other than what he was used to at a certain point was foreign, and he certainly didn't like it. Yet with a little coaxing, he began to accept that there were other feelings humans were meant to feel.

Super soldiers or not.

Lifting your free hand you turned his hand over, palm facing up as the pads of your fingers began to draw soothing circles on the rough skin. A content hum passed your lips as it turned into a calming tune. One you knew your Soldat would relax too.

"Kiska~".

The gentle smile that appeared on your face made Bucky fall in love with you all over again. Despite all the kills. The violence. The mind-numbing emptiness. He could always count on you no matter what.

"Moya Lyubov, you don't need to ask that~".

Gentle hands cupped a tired face as noses rubbed together. A small giggle of happiness slipping from the shorter of the two as the others arms encased you. One warm and soft while the other contrasted, cold and hard.

Breath fanned across soft lips, the Soldat taking the opportunity to look over your face. From the tiny curve of your lips to the almost invisible freckles that graced your skin, he loved how perfect you looked.

"My sweet Soldat, you can kiss me whenever you like~".

Bucky is Love❤️ Bucky is Life❤️

I love love love this. This is so Sam/Anthony coded. Exactly how I think he’d react.

Playing It Cool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Sam’s getting way too suspicious about your secret relationship with Bucky.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, laundry room shenanigans, sam wilson being done

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". It doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

Sam didn’t sleep well.

It wasn’t the coffee. It wasn’t even the lingering PTSD from a week spent chasing Hydra remnants. No, this was different.

This was gut feeling. Instinct.

He was standing in the kitchen, hair wild, hoodie misaligned, and eyes like a war veteran who’d seen things and couldn’t unsee them. The clock blinked a smug 7:03 a.m. He poured black coffee like a man betrayed by the very concept of sleep.

That’s when he saw it.

Two mugs on the counter.

One had your initials. The other—a vintage WWII fighter plane sticker. It hadn’t been there last night. He knew, because he always did a final kitchen sweep before bed. Counters clean. Dishes put away. Mugs? Accounted for.

His eye twitched.

“…Barnes,” Sam whispered.

He crouched slowly, inspecting the mugs like they might start confessing their crimes.

Then the hallway creaked. Sam turned so fast he sloshed coffee onto his hoodie.

You entered the room, yawning dramatically, hoodie sleeves engulfing your hands.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

Sam squinted. “Is it? Is it really?”

You blinked. “…Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, with the exact tone of a man who was absolutely not fine. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair like it owed him money. “Sit.”

“Why?”

“Because I have questions.”

“I’m not under interrogation.”

“You are now.”

“…Sam.”

“Tell me what you were doing between 0500 and 0700 hours.”

“Sleeping.”

“Alone?”

You squinted. “What kind of creepy follow-up—?”

Sam narrowed his eyes like a raccoon about to steal a whole rotisserie chicken. “I knew it. There’s a cover-up.”

You grabbed a piece of toast and headed for the hallway. “There’s a cover-up on your brain, Wilson.”

“I’ve seen the signs,” Sam called after you. “The glances! The whispers! The ‘accidental’ brush of hands during mission briefings!”

“Maybe I’m just clumsy!” you yelled.

“And matching mugs?”

“That sticker was mine first!”

Before Sam could yell something, Bucky entered the room, with aexpression criminally smug. He looked like the kind of man who had just done something worth hiding.

“Morning,” Bucky said, voice low and gravelly. He moved to the coffee pot.

Sam’s eyes followed him like a hawk on its sixth espresso.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I’m great,” Sam replied. “Y/N just left.”

“Cool.”

“Came in lookin’ real tired.”

“People get tired.”

“You look real tired.”

Bucky paused, looked Sam dead in the eye. “You implying something?”

Sam sipped his coffee. “I don’t know. You implying something?”

They stared each other down. The air crackled. Somewhere in the distance, a tumbleweed rolled by. A raven cawed.

“You need sleep,” Bucky muttered.

“I’ll sleep when the truth sleeps,” Sam snapped back.

Then Sam dramatically left the room—only to storm back in ten seconds later to grab a banana. He peeled it with authority and left again.

Later that morning, when Sam had finally left for a jog—or more accurately, a neighborhood reconnaissance mission—you found yourself back in the kitchen. You were putting away a dish, humming quietly to yourself, when a pair of warm arms slid around your waist.

You didn’t jump. You never did when it was him.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured against your neck, voice soft now, stripped of the earlier smugness he reserved for sparring with Sam. His lips brushed your skin like a secret.

“Hey yourself,” you whispered, leaning back into his chest. “You’re not worried Sam’s going to install surveillance cameras?”

“He probably already has.” You both laughed.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. “I left my mug out on purpose, you know.”

You turned your head to look at him, brow raised. “Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged, expression boyishly proud. “He’s been circling for weeks. Figured we’d give him a trail to follow. Let the man feel like he cracked the case.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You are so chaotic.”

He grinned. “You love it.”

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest. “Yeah… I kinda do.”

He kissed you then. Slow. Sweet. Familiar. The kind of kiss that said, even with a super-spy roommate and questionable mugs, this? This is real.

Later that night you bumped into Sam, sitting on the couch. He was hunched forward, elbows on knees, staring ahead

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice low and suspicious, eyes narrowing like you’d just confessed to treason.

You froze. “Uh. Laundry?”

“Interesting,” he said, voice dripping with suspicion. “You know who else said they had laundry tonight?”

You blinked. “…Literally everyone who owns clothes?”

Sam didn’t smile. He leaned in, voice lowering like he was revealing national security secrets. “Barnes. Same night. Same floor. Same time.”

You paused just long enough to regret getting out of your room.

“It’s a laundry room, Sam,” you said flatly. “That’s how they work. People… use it.”

“Mmmhm,” he replied, writing something cryptic in his notebook. The pen squeaked aggressively against the page.

Just then, the door swung open—and in walked Bucky Barnes, freshly showered, damp hair swept back like a shampoo commercial, whistling something suspiciously upbeat.

 “Y/N. Wilson,” he greeted smoothly.

“Barnes,” Sam said, staring like he was trying to burn a hole through his soul with his eyes.

You smiled. Just a regular smile. Harmless. No romantic undertones. Just two coworkers… being cordial.

Totally.

 “You know... I was asking Y/N here,” Sam said, still squinting, “about her suspiciously coordinated laundry schedule.”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. “Must be fate.”

You coughed, choking down a laugh.

Sam slammed his notebook shut with the kind of theatrical flair that screamed “I was born for this drama.”

“Enough. You think I’m not onto you. But I see things.”

Bucky raised a brow. “You seeing ghosts again?”

“I’m seeing clues, Barnes. Don’t play dumb. You two doing laundry together. The mugs. The vanishing act during last Tuesday’s debrief—twenty minutes. Both of you. Gone.”

You opened your mouth, searching for a reasonable explanation, but let’s be honest—this was Sam. There was no “reasonable” left. This man had turned your laundry schedule into a covert op.

You crossed your arms. “We went to get snacks.”

“Snacks,” Sam echoed flatly.

“Yes,” you said, trying to maintain dignity. “You know. Human food. Fuel. Chips. The sacred post-mission ritual.”

Sam’s expression didn’t change. “For twenty minutes.”

“There was a vending machine incident,” Bucky added smoothly, stepping closer, unbothered. “Y/N had a standoff with a bag of peanut M&Ms. It got intense.”

You rolled your eyes as Bucky leaned casually against the doorframe, looking way too smug for someone being accused of laundry-based espionage.

Sam was relentless. “You think this is a game? Because I’ve got spreadsheets. I’ve got charts. I have timestamps.”

“I’m flattered,” Bucky replied, folding his arms. “Didn’t realize I was your top case file.”

“You’re not,” Sam snapped. “You’re just the most suspicious.”

You shook your head, already backing toward the hallway. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go… do the thing. With the clothes. Like a normal human person.”

“Sure you are,” Sam muttered, squinting again like he was two seconds away from installing security cameras.

“Goodnight, Wilson,” Bucky said with a wink. And then—because of course—he followed you out.

“Hey!” Sam called. “This isn’t over!”

You didn’t turn around, but you did hear the sound of him furiously scribbling in that cursed notebook again.

You and Bucky sat side by side on top of the industrial dryer, the hum of the spinning machines filling the quiet room. A single overhead light flickered occasionally, casting a soft glow over the laundry baskets at your feet. The scent of fabric softener lingered in the warm air.

“He’s going to lose his mind,” you murmured, folding a hoodie with unnecessary precision.

“He already has,” Bucky said, smirking. “Tried to stick a tracker in my jacket this morning.”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into his. “We should start leaving fake clues. Plant a puzzle piece under his pillow. Hang a tie in the garage.”

“I already put a sock in the fridge,” Bucky said casually, reaching over to pull a warm towel from the dryer.

You turned to look at him, mouth open in delight. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Red. Argyle. No explanation.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning in to kiss your temple. “I know.”

You went quiet for a beat, letting the rhythm of the machines and the safe warmth between you fill the space. His knee rested against yours. The scent of his cologne barely clung to the edge of his freshly laundered shirt.

He reached for your hand, twining his fingers through yours beneath the basket of still-warm socks. “He’s getting close, though. We are getting pretty obvious.”

“You wanna stop?” you asked, turning toward him.

He looked at you—really looked. And it was all soft eyes, steady presence, and a patience you hadn’t known you needed until him.

“Not a chance.”

Bucky smiled, warm and easy, and pressed his forehead lightly to yours.

“So,” you whispered, “what are we going to do when Sam actually proves something?”

“We deny everything.”

You laughed. “Even under interrogation?”

“Especially under interrogation.”

One day, he’d prove it.

But not today.

Meanwhile in the living room, Sam was writing in his notebook. On the top of the page:

CASE #110: They’re DEFINITELY Dating. And beneath it, scrawled in increasingly frantic handwriting:

shared laundry = suspicious

“Coincidentally” always sitting next to each other

Y/N smiled at him like he invented air.

Bucky smiled back.

FRIDAY pinged softly. “Sir, your blood pressure is elevated.”

“Because there’s a LIE in this house, Friday!”

War was still on.

But as long as you had Bucky Barnes looking at you like you were his whole world?

You were definitely still winning.

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd@poodleofstardust @poodleofstardust @homeless-clown @kitasownworld @loversrocktvgirl2

A/N: it's me again, hi. just wanted to say a big thank you for all the comments and feedback i've been getting from all of you. never thought that a one-shot could turn into a series with already SEVEN PARTS. anyway, just thank you all again. i hope you're liking where this is going. see you next chapter <3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

---

Y/N sat on the rooftop, knees drawn up to her chest, a thick hoodie wrapped around her. The stars were faint, blurred by the city lights in the distance, but still visible if you looked hard enough. She liked it here—above everything, where the air was just a little colder and a little clearer. Where she could breathe.

She didn’t expect to hear footsteps. But she knew whose they were and her heart began to beat faster, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. 

“I figured I’d find you up here,” Bucky said, his voice low, carrying just enough to reach her without shattering the quiet.

She didn’t turn around right away. “Can’t sleep either?”

He chuckled, sitting beside her. “Do I ever?”

She glanced at him. He was in a black Henley, sleeves pushed up, metal arm glinting faintly under the moonlight. He looked tired—but softer. Like maybe he found a kind of peace in the stillness too.

“I like the quiet,” she said after a while. “When everything slows down.”

“Yeah.” His gaze followed hers, out toward the faint skyline. “Me too. It's easier to think.”

“To feel?” she asked, careful with the question.

Bucky looked at her then. Really looked. “Yeah,” he said, quieter. “That too.”

Silence settled again, but it wasn’t empty. It was warm. Safe.

“You don’t have to talk,” Y/N said, resting her head on her knees. “Not if it hurts. But if you ever do... I’ll be here.”

A breath left him—soft, like it took weight with it. Then, after a beat, he reached out and wrapped his metal hand gently around hers.

It was cool, careful, but steady.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“The news?” Y/N questioned. 

“Yea…I just can’t believe that Sam would give up Steve’s shield like that.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment. “Do you think maybe he’s just not ready?”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just continued to stare ahead. “I just- it makes me think that if Steve was wrong about Sam then maybe he was wrong about me.” 

Y/N turned her body towards Bucky. She reached out and grabbed ahold of his hand-the flesh one- and squeezed it. “Please don’t say that. I didn’t know Steve and don’t know Sam but I’m sure Steve knew what he was doing when he gave Sam that shield. He also was not wrong about you, Bucky. I’ve known you for a few months and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. I mean sure maybe you can be a little grumpy but you’ve never made me feel threatened or uncomfortable.” 

Bucky looked at Y/N. “Grumpy?”

Y/N chuckled and gave him a playful smack on his arm. “Only a little and only sometimes.” 

Bucky’s hand brushed gently against Y/N’s, the faintest touch sparking something quiet and familiar between them. Neither moved away. Instead, their hands lingered, fingertips grazing in a silent understanding—an unspoken comfort that had settled between them like second nature.

----

The last of the customers trickled out of the bar, their laughter fading into the night as the door clicked shut behind them. Y/N made her way to the front, fingers brushing against the slightly smudged glass as she flipped the sign to Closed, the quiet of the empty room settling around her like a soft exhale. It had been a long shift—steady, a little chaotic at times—but now all that remained was the comforting rhythm of cleanup before she could head home, curl up on the couch, lose herself in a feel-good movie, and dig into some well-earned takeout.

But just as she turned to grab a rag from behind the bar, the front door creaked open again. The bell gave a soft chime as it swung closed, and Y/N instinctively pivoted, ready to let the late straggler know they were done for the night.

The words caught in her throat.

A slow, surprised smile bloomed across her face when she saw who stood in the doorway.

Bucky stood just inside the doorway, his frame slightly hunched like he wasn’t sure he should be there, hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie. There was something uncertain in his eyes, the kind of vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart squeeze just a little.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, drying her hands on a towel. “How did you know where I worked?”

He gave a small shrug, the corners of his mouth twitching into something that almost resembled a smirk. “I have my ways.”

That earned a quiet laugh from her, but the silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was weighted, familiar. He made his way over to the bar, pulled out a stool, and sat down with a quiet sigh, resting his arms on the counter. His fingers traced absent patterns on the worn wood, eyes downcast.

Y/N turned back to her cleaning, though her movements had slowed. She kept stealing glances at him, watching the way he sat so still, like he was trying to sort through a storm in his head. She wanted to ask if he was okay, the words right on the edge of her lips. But instead, she waited—giving him space, hoping he’d let her in on his own terms.

“I know that look,” Y/N said gently, glancing over at him as she wiped down the last bit of the counter. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell.”

Bucky shook his head almost too quickly, eyes darting away. “Nope. Nothing’s wrong.”

She didn’t push, just gave him a quiet, knowing look. “Alright. I’m almost done here, then we can head out.”

He gave a small nod, the kind that said he was grateful she wasn’t pressing him. Y/N tucked the last few bottles back into place, the clinking of glass the only sound between them. Then she bent to grab her bag from beneath the bar, slinging it over her shoulder with a tired but content sigh.

As they stepped outside, the night air wrapped around them—cool, crisp, and a little biting. She grinned, nudging him playfully. “So… did you really come all the way down here just to walk me home from work?”

Bucky’s lips twitched with a trace of a smile. “Maybe.”

A chill danced up her spine, and she shivered without meaning to. Bucky noticed immediately. Without a word, he tugged off his hoodie and held it out to her. She blinked in surprise, hesitated for a second, then took it. As she pulled it on, the sleeves hanging long over her hands, she caught the scent of him—clean soap, leather, and something warm that was just him. It made her chest ache in the sweetest way.

“I was thinking we could grab something to eat,” he said casually, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to play it cool. “Or… whatever you want.”

She looked up at him, eyes soft. “I was planning on takeout and a movie.”

He tilted his head. “Unless that sounds boring to you,” she added quickly.

His smile came easy this time—gentle, genuine, the kind that lit up his whole face. “That sounds perfect.”

-------

Y/N led the way down the quiet street to her favorite little pizza place, the one she always ended up craving after a long shift. The familiar scent of garlic and melted cheese hit her the second they stepped inside, instantly lifting her mood. She placed an order for her go-to pizza, the one she could eat a thousand times and never get tired of.

“Are you sure you don’t want your own?” she asked, glancing up at Bucky with a raised brow.

He just shook his head with a faint smile. “I’m good. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

When the total popped up on the register, Y/N instinctively reached for her wallet—but Bucky was quicker. He slid his card across the counter without missing a beat.

“Hey—come on, I’ve got this,” she protested, nudging his arm.

He just gave her a look. Steady. “Next time.”

With the warm box of pizza in hand, Bucky carried it like it was something precious as they walked the short distance to their apartment building. Inside the elevator, the hum of machinery filled the space as he hit the button for her floor. The moment was quiet, but not awkward—just a soft kind of stillness that felt easy between them.

Once inside her apartment, Y/N headed to the kitchen, pulling out two mismatched plates from the cabinet and handing one to Bucky.

“I’ll be right back,” she said with a smile, before slipping down the hallway to her bedroom.

She changed quickly, trading her work clothes for a pair of well-worn leggings and her favorite oversized t-shirt. After a moment’s pause, she grabbed Bucky’s hoodie from where she’d left it earlier and slipped it back on—it still smelled like him, and the extra weight of it around her shoulders was oddly comforting.

When she padded back into the living room, Bucky was already seated on the couch, the pizza box resting on the coffee table in front of him. He sat back with his arms crossed, muscles stretching beneath the tight fabric of his t-shirt in a way that made Y/N pause in the doorway a second longer than she meant to.

She shook herself out of it and moved to the couch, settling a safe-but-not-too-far distance from him.

Grabbing the remote, she pulled up her favorite comfort show—one she’d seen a hundred times but never got tired of—and hit play. She reached for a slice, the warmth of the food matching the growing ease between them.

Bucky grabbed a piece too, and for a while, they sat side by side, the glow of the TV flickering across their faces, saying nothing at all.

But the silence was anything but empty—it was filled with the kind of quiet comfort that only comes from being with someone who feels like home.

As the night wore on and a few more episodes passed, Y/N realized—somehow, without even noticing when it happened—that she was sitting much closer to Bucky than she had been at the start. The gap between them had gradually disappeared, replaced by the easy lean of shared warmth. She knew he usually shied away from touch—but he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t flinched or pulled back. If anything, he seemed… settled.

The credits of the latest episode began to roll, the soft background music filling the quiet room.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, his voice low and almost hesitant.

Y/N turned her head to look at him, her brows drawn together gently. “For what?”

He gave a small shrug, blue eyes fixed on the screen like he couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “For letting me crash your night. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“You didn’t,” she said softly, her lips lifting into a smile. “I like hanging out with you, Bucky.”

And before she could overthink it, she reached down and slid her hand into his—his flesh one—her fingers curling gently around his. She gave a soft squeeze, grounding and sincere.

“You’re always welcome here,” she said. “Even if you don’t want to talk. We can just sit. Be. I’m okay with that.”

For a beat, he didn’t say anything. Then she felt his hand tighten around hers, not possessively, just… steady. Reassuring. And he didn’t let go.

The next episode began to play, the familiar theme music rising again, but neither of them really paid attention. They stayed just like that, fingers laced together, hearts quietly aligned in the shared silence—trying, and failing, to focus on the screen when all they could really feel was the presence of the other.

---

Y/N stirred slowly, her eyes fluttering open as the early morning light filtered softly through the curtains. For a moment, she blinked against the haze of sleep, her brain sluggishly trying to piece together where she was. The couch. Her living room. The remnants of the night before flickered back into focus like a warm dream.

What she hadn’t expected was the weight wrapped around her—the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath her cheek, the warmth of two strong arms encircling her.

Bucky.

Her head rested against his chest, where his heartbeat thudded in a calm, even rhythm. His breath was slow and steady, lips slightly parted in sleep, completely at peace in a way she rarely got to see. And somehow, over the course of the night, they’d both melted into one another, tangled up on her small couch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She should’ve been surprised. But she wasn’t. Not really.

Y/N shifted slightly, her body stiff from sleeping in one position for too long. Carefully, she reached out, fingers brushing against his arm as she tried to slip out of his hold without waking him.

But before she could move more than an inch, Bucky’s arm tightened around her waist—gentle but firm. His other hand came up sleepily to rest at the small of her back, and without opening his eyes, he pulled her right back against him with a quiet, content sigh.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, caught between amusement and something far softer, deeper. Her lips curled into a sleepy smile as she relaxed into him again, letting her eyes drift closed once more.

If this was how mornings with Bucky felt—quiet, safe, wrapped in warmth—she wouldn’t mind waking up like this a lot more often.

“Don’t move. I’m comfortable,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. 

Y/N let herself relax against him again, her cheek resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The world outside didn’t exist—not the mission reports, not the news, not the ghosts that sometimes lingered in both their silences.

Just the two of them.

She felt Bucky shift slightly, just enough to rest his chin lightly on the top of her head. His hand—flesh and warm—brushed slow, absentminded strokes along her arm. It sent a tingle down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“You’re warm,” he murmured sleepily.

She smiled against his shirt. “That’s because I’m wearing your hoodie.”

“Keep it,” he said, without hesitation.

Y/N tilted her head back slightly so she could look up at him. “You sure?”

His eyes met hers, blue and unguarded, still heavy with sleep but clear in a way that made her breath catch. “Yeah,” he said, softer. “Looks better on you anyway.”

That made her cheeks flush, and she quickly looked down to hide the smile pulling at her lips. His fingers brushed her jaw gently, coaxing her gaze back to his.

“You always do that,” he said, voice quiet.

“Do what?”

“Look away when I’m staring at you.”

“That’s because you stare,” she teased, her voice a little too breathless for her liking.

“I do,” he admitted. “And you never seem to notice how much I like it.”

She blinked. The teasing vanished from his voice—replaced by something quieter, deeper.

Her heartbeat stumbled.

“Bucky…” she started, unsure of what to say. But he was already leaning in, his hand moving up to cup her face with infinite care—like he was afraid she might flinch or vanish if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he murmured, eyes flicking from hers to her lips and back. “Unless you tell me not to.”

She didn’t say a word.

She couldn’t.

Instead, she nodded, just once—barely a breath of movement—and then he was kissing her.

Soft. Slow. Deliberate.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss that demanded or rushed. It was the kind that lingered, like he had all the time in the world. His lips moved against hers with a careful sort of reverence, like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, and she kissed him back just as softly, pouring into it every quiet moment they’d shared—every time he’d sat beside her in silence, every word he hadn’t needed to say.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, breath mingling.

“Well,” she whispered, her lips still tingling, “that was... worth staying up for.”

Bucky gave a small huff of laughter. “Yeah?” he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “Because I’ve been thinking about doing that for a long time.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I think I just did,” he said, and this time, the smile that curved his lips was real—and a little smug.

Y/N shook her head, grinning as she nudged his chest playfully. “You’re lucky I like you, Barnes.”

“Yeah,” he said, pressing another feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m starting to figure that out.”

nowhere for you to stay (bucky barnes x reader)

content warnings: angst, allusions to depression (bucky, not reader), sad bucky, mental health, lack of self-care, female reader, this is basically just me venting about the terrible ending that they gave steve (he didn’t deserve this and neither did bucky nor me)  word count: 1.5k a/n: so, i promise, i really am trying to finish my wips, but this came to me today while listening to renegade, also sorry for being m.i.a. for like three weeks but I spent easter with my family and had to recharge lol and then uni started again, so that kinda kicked my ass a little also, i watched thunderbolts* yesterday and it was great!!! (dw, this is spoiler-free)

You knocked on his door – three sharp, distinct sounds – and waited.  For a few seconds you entertained the thought that Bucky wasn’t home. That he was out and about, doing something with his life. Maybe he had picked himself up and gone to the gym, or maybe he had finally deleted the various food delivery apps and instead had gone grocery shopping. But there was a faint whirring, locked behind the old wooden door to his apartment, a sound that belonged to a light turned on. The complex in which Bucky resided was old – not as old as the man himself but certainly bordering on it. Windows creaked when the wind was strong, the lighting flickered, and pipes groaned during the coldest months.   He had moved here after returning from Wakanda and you had helped him set up his living space. You had begged and pleaded with him to rent a place closer to you, or to maybe even move in with you. But he had just shook his head and had looked at you with those heartbroken, empty eyes that seemed a little less blue and a little more grey since Steve was gone. So, you had helped carry the sparse amount of furniture and décor he had up to the fourth-floor apartment, had sorted spice containers of which you were sure that he hadn’t used them yet and had presented Bucky with a plant as a housewarming gift. He had smiled sadly and thanked you and you had known that the plant was not going to make it more than a week. Every day you called, every day he answered – for a limited time. Sometimes, the exchange was as short as thirty seconds, just enough for you to hear that he was still alive and not planning on changing that.  Once a week, on Saturdays, you took the subway to visit him, to stay with him for a few hours. You never managed to convince him to get out of the apartment with you but at least you saw him.  The last week had been different. He hadn’t answered your calls, only sent short messages (“I’m fine – can’t talk right now” or “let me call you back later”) and your heart ached every time the busy signal had echoed from your speaker. Of course, you hoped that it meant that he was actually busy, distracted, doing something.  But the faint buzz of a burning lamp in his apartment told you that he was home. No matter what, Bucky always made sure to turn off all lights and close all windows before he left his place, so he must have been ignoring the knocking.  To his credit, you were a day earlier than usual. It was Friday instead of Saturday, and you hadn’t announced yourself either, so he wasn’t expecting you. The silence, the unanswered calls had given you anxiety induced stomach pains, so you had taken the day off from work and had gotten an Uber to his place.

You knocked again and lightly cleared your throat – a chance for Bucky’s enhanced hearing to place you and for him to open the door. Still, the knob didn’t twist, the many locks he had put on additionally didn’t rattle and you could have sworn that the whirring of the lamp you had heard earlier died down. “Bucky,” you called out, “It’s me. Can you please open the door?” You waited. Seconds that felt like minutes ticked by and your hands got clammy as you shifted on your feet. “Bucky, you gave me a key. But I don’t wanna use it, so, please just let me in. Bu-,” before you could finish his name, you heard a series of noises. A pair of feet shuffling over creaky old floorboards, and what sounded like dishes being set down in the sink. Then you heard a window being ripped open – the frame squeaked terribly – and then the footsteps came closer.  One lock was unlocked, then the second one. A metallic clank sounded and then the doorknob turned.  The door opened with a squeak that made your teeth hurt.  The apartment was dark, and despite the cold breeze that the recently opened window let in, it smelled dusty and faintly like old takeout food.  “Hey.” One thing about Bucky is that he just could not lose his charm. He stood before you, eyebags darker than ever, brown curls unkempt and knotted, and his scruff on his cheeks a little longer than usual and asymmetrical – as if he had laid on one side for too long. 

Despite his appearance, he leaned against the doorframe with a trace of his characteristic smile turning up his mouth corners.  “Hi,” you replied, slightly perplexed.  “I didn’t realise it was already Saturday,” he said after a few seconds of silence and attempted to swipe his hair from his forehead until he realised that it was too unbrushed to run his fingers through it.  He awkwardly dropped his hand but gave you another smile. “It’s not,” you answered and peered past him. Before you could properly glance into his apartment, he moved into your eyeline, a determined look in his eyes.  “Oh. Then what are you doing here?” He asked, shifting again when you tried to steal another glimpse into his living space. You took a few seconds before you replied during which you struggled not to be offended by his question.  “You never called me back,” you explained then, and locked eyes with him. Heat rose on his face as you bluntly called him out and his hands again found their way into his hair, and again, he had to drop them back to his sides as he couldn’t nervously run them through.  “Yeah, no, I meant to, but I… I was busy,” he stammered, blocking your third attempt to look past him.  “Okay,” you murmured slowly, “Can you… would you mind letting me in?” Bucky chewed on his lip for a few seconds, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to find a way to let you down gently. “Uh, now’s not a good time.”

Your heart sank even further as you tried to come up with reasonings with his behaviour. “Are you-,” you began, and stared at your feet instead of meeting his eyes, “Is someone in there with you?” His eyes went round with surprise before he composed himself.  “What? No, no, I’m… I’m alone in here, but it’s just not, uh, a good time, like I said.” A little bit of the tightness in your chest loosened as he genuinely looked shocked at your implication. But you still couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t let you in. “Are you leaving? Like, are you going somewhere?” You inquired then, trying to find a reason that would satisfy you. Bucky stayed quiet before he shook his head.  “No, nothing like that. Listen, doll, I just… I haven’t really prepared for visitors, or anything like that, so it’d be great if… um –,“ before he finished speaking, you could tell that he was having a hard time sending you back home. He knew how long the ride here was and that you usually worked on Fridays. “it’s just not a good time,” he concluded.

There was a faint line, so thin that it was barely visible, that you were threatening to cross right now. A line between what Bucky allowed you to see on the Saturdays when you visited him, and the rest of his life.  “Just let me in,” you whispered. “Let me… help you.” The conflict in his eyes played out like a storm. Vulnerability and stubbornness raged against each other, as he seemingly weighed his options: allowing you in or pushing you away. Both seemed to frighten him as you heard how his metal arm whirred while he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Alright,” he mumbled and slowly stepped back. His apartment was in a terrible state. For someone who had very little furnishings, a tiny amount of clothes and basically no personal belongings it should have been easy to basically produce a clinically clean space. Instead, you saw instant food packaging, empty beer cans and ripped paper shreds sprawled across his couch table. You recognised the paper as an article about Steve – honouring his legacy and paying tribute to his sacrifice. You had read the same one a few days ago and had cried until your head hurt. The sofa cushions were crumbled up and uneven. A thin blanket laid on the floor as if it had fallen off or been pushed off in a hurry. He must have slept there instead of in his bed.  The kitchen door was half closed, and through the gap you saw dishes towering dangerously, a towel haphazardly slung over them in an attempt to hide them. You turned to face Bucky, who refused to meet your eye. Instead, he clenched his jaw so tight that it must have hurt and stared out the opened window. “Bucky,” you whispered.  “Like I said, I didn’t know you were coming.” His tone was defensive and sharp, but his eyes glistened as the shame burned in him. “Bucky, look at me,” you pleaded and took a few steps towards him. “This place is a mess,” he croaked, his voice heavy with unshed tears, “There’s nowhere for you to stay.” “But I’ll stay anyway,” you murmured and rested your hand on his cheek. “I’ll stay and help you.”

Finding Home Epilogue

Chapter 25

We spent almost six months at that little cottage. We shut off our phones and spent the time fixing anything that needed attention around the house. We even managed to go to the capital city and make the little house officially ours.

At night, when we couldn’t do any repairs, we worked on ourselves. We got re-acquainted with each other and worked to figure out what our future would hold.

As much as we loved being away from the chaos, we knew we needed to return. We knew, deep down, we needed that chaos to give our lives purpose honestly, but we also knew we would never have to battle through it alone again.

Returning to the Tower was the most oddly bitter-sweet moment. I was happy to see my friends again, but I knew I'd have to share Bucky with them too.

After the initial welcome home, Bucky and I made our way up to our floor. We decided to utilize his room as a spare area for all three of us to store things while using my room as our actual bedroom. Taking our time, we unpacked in almost complete silence.

It was nice to have the same quiet as the cottage - save for the sounds of the city life outside our open window, of course. However, they were strangely just as calming as the sounds of our home.

Once we put everything in the proper place, we showered and changed before making our way to rejoin the rest of the misfits in the main common room. Everyone is sitting around, having some drinks, and just enjoying a fun evening without any distractions or disturbances.

“So, ” Natasha finally speaks up. I knew it would be her - or Steve. “Where did you two run off to? You were missing for six months,” there is a slight tone of bitterness, but she is teasing. “No contact or anything. All we had was Fury’s word that you two were safe.”

I smile a small smile. “We were fine. We just needed a little time away to clear our heads and figure out how we were going to move forward.” I keep my tone neutral, but when I feel Bucky’s hand squeeze mine, I can feel the corners of my lips curling up into a smirk.

“And you decided on - ?” Nat prompts.

“We have a house for ourselves, away from the rest of the world, that we can retreat to if we need. But inevitably, we knew we needed to come back here. Through everything, you guys are our family.”

Tony bit in with his usual snark, “So, no more running off and hiding then, Marena?”

“No, Stark,” I reply. “No more running off. I’m here to stay - if you’ll have me, of course.”

“Well, Petrova, that depends. This Tower was intended for Avengers only,” he raises a brow, hoping for the best response. He is baiting me, playing with me the way he plays with people. I am too used to it to challenge it, but...

“I see,” I respond. “Well, if that is - in fact - the case, then I guess I don’t have a choice.” I shrug and stand up, walking toward the elevators.

“Petrova!” I turn back to face everyone, “Stark didn’t mean it. Come on back and sit down.” Steve chuckles a little seeing the smirk I have on my face as I happily make my way back.

“And what about you, Buck? Are you holding up okay?” Steve looks at his friend, a little concerned but hopeful.

There is a beat of a pause, and his lips are pursed contemplatively - truly considering the answer. “Yeah,” he finally answers. “I’m good. I have my girl, we have our family, and I finally found that feeling of home again.” He smiles, pulling me into his lap as I get close.

I kiss him gently on his cheek, murmuring, “We’ve searched for our home for so long. I’m glad we finally found it.”

"I'll always find home, my Queen." He says with a slight smirk.

Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 25

Chapter 24

It had been only a couple of weeks since I left the Tower.

Despite that, the days dragged on, making it feel like months had passed.

Had I made the right choice? Was it best for him that I left?  

As that first week dragged by, I watched as the little cottage began to sparkle.

Dust - taking days in itself to finally be removed entirely - no longer clung to every surface. Subsequently, I removed the cloth covering the couch and chair, and I got my first look at the furniture that I sat on so many times before. Furthermore, the windows were bright enough to see out of, for the first time in who knows how many years.

This was the first time I had seen this cottage looking like a home. Despite all the times I had been inside, I never took the time to clean. To make it look like someone was using it, let alone living in it. Instead, I had always left it in shambles, just as it had been when he was using it.

I couldn’t do that this time though. With the memories it held, it deserved to look like a home again.

Looking around the cottage, finally clean and appearing as it should, I can’t help the nostalgia that lingers.

That is when I hear a pounding at the door.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

It isn’t the knocking of someone just looking to welcome a new neighbor. This is someone who, if determined enough, would break the door down to get at whatever - or whoever - is inside.

“I know you’re in there, Petrova! Open the damn door!” His voice booms.

How the hell?

*Boom! Boom! Boom!*

“Damn it, Petrova! Open up!” He yells again. “Please?” Suddenly his tone changes. Not rough and loud like it had been. But instead, quiet and -- powerless.

I stand there. In utter disbelief. Completely silent.

Sure, I tossed a loophole into the note. And sure, a small part of me had hoped he’d figure it out. I had just expected it would take longer.

Frozen in my spot, unable to move, let alone utter a sound. I just listen to him on the other side of the solid door.

*Boom! Boom! Boom!* Again he tries pounding on the door but is met with silence.

“Fine - don’t open it yet. Just listen.” His tone is full of despair.

I’m not willing to leave my spot, not yet. So I sit on the floor where I am, listening in silence.

“Look, Petrova, I don’t know what made you think that the right choice was running away. After years apart, years of running, years of keeping this - this wall up, you finally had the chance to be happy - to be home - again. And your first instinct was to run instead?”

I hear his left arm thud against the frame of the door and listen to the distinct sound of the plates moving as he flexes his arm, clenching his fist in frustration.

“They aren’t Hydra, Marena. There’s nothing bad that can come of us - either of us - being happy. Let alone being together. Hell, if it weren’t for Natasha, I’d have taken a hell of a lot longer to figure out where the hell you’d run off to.”

Natalia. Of course. I should have known she’d be able to pick the clue out of that damn note. She wouldn’t know what it meant, but that didn’t matter.

I stand up and quietly walk to the door. Standing there, silent still, resting my hand against the middle of the solid wood structure, knowing full well that Bucky had a hand just opposite. That if it weren’t for the obstacle between us, our hands would touch — melding into each other.

“Everyone wants you to come back. But I won’t force you. Please, open the door.”

I close my eyes tight as I unlock the door, stepping back far enough for it to open without a problem.

After a moment, Bucky turns the handle and pushes the door, watching it open slowly until it lightly bounces gently against the wall.

“You shouldn’t have come, my Soldier. I’ve caused you far too much pain for you to -”

“I’ve caused you a fair share of pain too, my Queen. Stop focusing on it. Pain happens; anyone can cause it. But that love, that happiness, that euphoric bliss that we feel when we’re together? That can only be caused by one other.”

He calmly makes his way into the cottage and wastes no time wrapping me in a tight embrace.

“If you don’t want to come back to the Tower Petrova, then fine. I said I wouldn’t force you. But don’t run away just out of fear. You need a better reason than that to avoid me.”

Separating slightly, I look up into his eyes.

“Besides, no matter where you try to run off to, I’ll find you.”

“How did you figure out where I was? I mean, you said Nat helped you find the clue, but you would have had to decipher it.”

“‘It will serve as a memory of our love.’ This?” He looks around at the cottage as he continues. “This is where we said our final goodbye all those years ago. This was also the cottage you were hiding in when Fury found you.”

I look at him with bewilderment.

“Yea. I knew where you were. They didn’t tell me to continue that mission though, they sent me on a different one, but I had to know you were okay. This was the first place I looked because I knew it was as close to home as you would feel.”

“I guess I’ll have to find a new cottage to hide out in then.” I chuckle as I lay my head against his chest.

His voice soft as he places a kiss on the top of my head, “it won’t matter where you go. I’ll always find you, Marena.”

Epilogue  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 24

Chapter 23

With everything unfolding recently, I made a choice. Albeit, I admit, it’s probably the wrong choice, it’s mine nonetheless.

I digress; ever since I told the team the truth about my past and what I was, nothing has changed. Not with them anyway. With Bucky, though? It is another story.

His memories are back. Which means he remembers the pain, the heartache, the evil.

Sure, he remembers the good as well. The comfort and safety he felt when we were alone together.

He no longer has to hide the fact that he is sharing a bed with me. It is no secret that when we are together, the nightmares that had plagued him were nonexistent.

But that’s not the point.

Despite the feelings we share, can I stick around, knowing what I had caused him in the past? I know he wants me to stay. But the choice isn’t his.

He is my light. He is my safety. He is my Soldier. He is my home.

Still, the choice is mine to make.

Bucky, Steve, Tony, and Natasha are all out on a mission. Everyone else is too enthralled in their activities to notice anything about mine. This is probably the only chance I will have, so I am taking it.

Sitting on my bed, notebook, and pen in hand, I start writing.

By the time you find this, I'll be gone. That's probably the last thing you'd want to hear - especially from me.

One of the most complex decisions I have ever had to make was choosing whether to walk away or stay with you, my Soldier.

I cannot escape the pain of our past, but I refuse to allow it to cloud your future.

This is a mission I must take on alone — a battle between my head and my heart that I can’t ask you to fight. Though it won’t be home, it will serve as a memory of our love.

So please - promise me you'll leave well enough alone.

My Soldier, this is our goodbye.

Your Queen

I place the note on my pillow. Somewhere I know he will quickly find it. There is no point in hiding it, no point in trying to avoid the truth.

I pack the few essentials that I need into a backpack and make my way out — stopping in the doorway just long enough to glance back into my room, letting out a heavy sigh before I continue on my path out of the Tower.

I know where I’ll go.

There is no reason to go too deep into hiding this time. If they find me, so be it. So I will go where I am comfortable. I will go somewhere quiet, somewhere most won’t think to look.

Pushing the door of the little cottage open, I smile softly. Getting lost in the view.

Just as I remembered it.

The musky smell invading my senses snaps me out of my daze. I toss my bag onto the dusty chair in the living room and make my way throughout the small home to open windows.

Once everything is open, and the cool breeze is flowing through, I find my way to the kitchen. Everything is still where I left it.

I walk back to my bag and find my wallet. Taking the cash, I leave my humble abode and go into town. Picking up just the necessary items - some food for a couple of days, sponges, soap, hygiene items, etc. - I quickly pay and return to my solitude. Ready to start anew, yet again.

When the four team members return home, they are exhausted.

Though the mission had gone well overall, it hadn’t been easy.

It was late at night. Natasha and Tony each go to their respective floors, while Steve and Bucky go off to theirs. With a simple nod to his friend, Steve retires to his room for the night. Bucky makes a stop in his bedroom just long enough to shower.

Once he is clean and changed, he makes his way to Marena’s room. Only she isn’t there. He sees the note on the top of the pillow, and his face drops.

Bucky crumples the note in one hand before letting out a furious scream and throwing his fist through the wall just beside the bed. Hearing the yell and subsequent thud from the wall, Steve burst into the room.

“What’s the matter, Buck? What happened?” Quickly taking in the scene and realizing Marena is nowhere to be seen, his line of questioning shifts. “Where’s Petrova?”

“Gone,” Bucky growls.

“What do you mean, gone?”

Bucky throws the crumpled note at Steve, who catches it rather un-elegantly. He flattens it out as best he can and reads it over. Glancing up, he notices that Bucky slumped over, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“She’s gone, Steve. She’s gone.”

Bucky spent the next week a complete mess.

He is wound up. He is pissed off - that would probably be an understatement, but you get it - frustrated, determined. Searching every memory he can think of to find some clue as to where Marena had run.

Steve can do nothing to calm Bucky’s nerves, so he does what he can to help find some information. Tony is even trying to help in the search. All he knows is that he last saw her on surveillance at the JFK airport, and she got on an international flight. He couldn’t get anything else.

That left so many options open, though. Did she get on another flight after that? Why did she leave in the first place?

“She’d go somewhere she knows. She’s not hiding, at least not like before, or she wouldn’t have left the note.” Natasha sits at the bar in the kitchen, trying her best to help the situation.

“That doesn’t help Nat. She knows everywhere. She was on the run for how long?” Bucky snaps back.

“I mean, she’d go somewhere comfortable. Somewhere, she has a history. Somewhere quiet.” Despite wanting to smack Barnes for his outburst, she stays calm. Knowing he didn’t mean to give her attitude.

“But where?!” He slams his fists on the table in frustration.

“Buck. Relax. Getting all worked up like that isn’t going to help. Natasha is just trying to help you narrow it down.” Steve reasons.

Bucky lets out a heavy sigh. Setting his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the bar, he runs his fingers through his hair roughly.

“Maybe… maybe she left a clue?” Sam tries to offer.

“How? She left everything in that room, and I’ve read that damn note a thousand times.” Bucky mumbles, not bothering to lift his head.

“Can I take a look?” Nat offers.

“Be my guest.” Bucky sighs as he pushes the note toward her.

The room is silent for a good fifteen minutes. During which, Natasha reads - and re-reads, and re-re-reads, and well, you get it - the note, until she finally picks up on something.

Marena was nothing, if not subtle.

“Barnes?” She finally speaks up, breaking the silent tension that had clouded the room.

“What?” He groans.

“Though it won’t be home, it will serve as a memory of our love.” She reads.

“Yea? What about it?”

“Could that be her clue for you?” She sets the paper down. “I mean, I know she said for you to stay behind, live your life, all that crap. But it is Petrova. I think that line is for you, in a way the others aren’t. It’s her way of giving you a chance.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the prick of the tears that are threatening to fall. He takes a deep breath as he thinks about what Nat has just said.

Maybe she was right. Perhaps it was a clue. But how? What could it mean? ‘It will serve as a memory of our love.’? What does that even - Bucky shot up straight in his chair. Eyes wide as if he had just seen a ghost.

“What is it, Buck?” Steve looks at his friend, worried.

“I know where she is.”

Chapter 25  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 23

Chapter 22

It had only been a couple of weeks since we had done the undercover mission.

It was clear - to probably everyone at this point - that things had changed. Bucky wasn’t waking up at night anymore; his movements were more precise while training and missions were smoother. It was almost as if he had become a whole different person.

The only person that knew why he had changed was me.

I realized it when his questions changed. I knew then that he remembered details on his own — not just pictures of events playing out in his dreams, like before.

No. This was different.

He knew names, not just recognized faces. He knew dates, locations, not vague descriptions of the areas.

He was remembering - perhaps finding his journals had helped it along a little.

Yes, Steve had hidden them. Yes, I knew Bucky didn’t have them at first. It was their way of not ‘overwhelming’ him with his past. But, let’s be honest. Steve’s not that good at hiding things, and Bucky is even better at finding them. It probably didn’t help that Steve hid them in my room.

But some details weren’t in those.

When he called me his Darkness, that was when I knew it was all back.

That line - that name - was just between us. Well, us and von Strucker, but he was long gone. I had been through his journals, scanning them when I couldn’t sleep — reliving memories of my Soldier. I knew none of that was in them.

You could think of us as — a yin-yang. I was the Dark, and he was the Light. The good and the bad. The Angel and the Devil. Each of us needs the other to survive.

Yes, I suppose to some, we were both evil back then. Both were working as assassins for Hydra and all. But somehow, we balanced each other out. He was the glimmer of light in my otherwise dark world.

These changes raised questions amongst some of the team.

Okay, the only person raising questions is Tony. The others just seem content that there isn’t as much tension in the Tower any longer.

As we all sit around talking amongst ourselves and just generally enjoying a quiet, uneventful evening at the Tower, Tony - with a bit of liquid courage - finally feels the need to speak up.

“Okay, Petrova. Answer time.”

“What is it now, Stark?” I ask, slightly bemused.

“What is this missing piece of your life? This secret training, this history with Barnes? I want some answers.”

“Fine. Why not.” I rub my hands together before slapping them against my knees and sitting up straighter in my chair.

“Fine? You mean -- you’ll tell us the ‘History of Petrova’ finally?” He is visibly taken aback by my willingness to divulge into my past.

“Look, Stark, I have my reasons for keeping so many secrets, and you’re not going to like some of what you hear, but if you want the truth, then fine.” I retort, growing slightly frustrated.

Tony leans back in his chair and looks at me with narrow eyes. “Go on then. Tell us.”

I lean forward and rest my arms on my knees. My eyes lock on Stark since he’s the only one curious to know the truth.

“I was a Winter Soldier with Hydra. There were seven of us made total, each given the serum to make us into a knock-off version of Rogers. Bucky was the first, of course, and since his transformation was so successful, they tried again. It took five failed attempts before they got it right again.”

“Wait. Hang on a minute. You are a Winter Soldier too?” Tony sits up in his chair. “I thought Barnes was the only one left after everything that happened in Siberia? Why didn’t you say anything when we were there?!”

“Was Stark - I was. You had enough information thrust on you that night. You didn’t need more.”

“So, that’s how you know so much about Barnes.” He tries to move on.

“Part of it, yes.” I nod.

“What’s the other part?”

“Barnes was… my trainer. I became far too strong for the regular agents. Barnes was the only one that could at least try to keep up. He trained me as a sniper, as an assassin. Eventually, I surpassed my teacher and became the best Hydra had.”

I sit back in my chair, taking a moment to enjoy the look of bewilderment on Stark’s face. I can tell he wasn’t expecting what I was telling him.

“Any mission I went on, it was fairly likely that Barnes went too. They trusted us, knew we would get the job done and return without fail. What they didn’t expect was for Barnes and me to - well, fall for each other.”

“I thought they put him on ice when they weren’t using him?” Stark quips.

“What’s your point?” I snap back.

“How did you manage to… fall for each other?”

“We found a way, Stark. Any chance we could. It’s not like we could be open about it.”

“So, what happened? What made you run off and leave your man behind?”

I sigh. Still a part of my past, I regret more than anything.

“Someone found out about us.” I swallow thickly. “They made me watch as they tortured Barnes. For my mistake.” I stand from my chair and walk around the back of it, leaning onto my forearms.

“I couldn’t stay and watch what they were doing, so I ran. They weren’t strong enough to hold me physically, and watching him in that chair broke any mental hold they had on me. Once they thought they had gotten rid of any memory of me, they sent him out on a new mission. To bring me back to them.”

“Wait, you were his failed mission?” Natasha speaks up.

“His one and only,” I smirk a little.

“Why did he fail?” She questions. “The Winter Soldier never failed.”

“Despite their efforts, they couldn’t remove me from his memories. He tried to find me, sure - got close too - but they forgot that I was better at my job than he was. Closest he got was being in the same country. Before I left again, though, I found him.”

“And he didn’t try to take you down?” She snickers.

“He knew better.” I laugh. “Barnes knew he couldn’t take me down. He also knew he felt something for me. He figured he was giving me my one free pass by letting me go. It wasn’t like Hydra was ever going to know we had been in the same room again. I knew, though, that I couldn’t risk seeing him again.”

“That’s why you could distract him the first time we found him - when he tried to kill Fury. In his mind, you were still an unfinished mission.” Steve affirms.

“Exactly. It’s also why I kept telling Fury I wouldn’t help. I wouldn’t talk to him; I knew what I was up against. But, it’s also why I helped him after he pulled you from the water and ran off, why I couldn’t just leave after that Doctor triggered the Winter Soldier the last time.”

I feel a pair of hands come to rest on my hips. Standing up straight, I lean back against the solid figure behind me.

“You also ran off again, though, after you knew he was safe.” Steve points out.

“True. Knowing that Bucky remembered our past tore me up. Every time I saw him, I kept remembering him in that damn chair. I had to know he was okay, but I couldn’t face him when he remembered.”

“And now?” Steve asks, looking between Bucky and me.

“Now? I don’t know. He remembers again. Everything.”

“Everything?” Tony’s eyes widen slightly.

“Yes, Stark. I, inadvertently, triggered something, and his memories came flooding back. He found his journals, and he asked questions - he remembers.”

“And you’re still here?” Sam asks, trying to hide a hopeful smile.

“For now…”

“For good,” Bucky whispers against my ear.

Chapter 24  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 22

Chapter 21

Once in the training room, I don’t even bother prepping. I march right to the bags and just start hitting them. No pattern, no technique, nothing.

I am focused solely on getting out the frustration, these emotions I’ve been burying for so long, and just trying to clear my head.

The door is flung open with such force, and I know who it is before even turning around.

“I’m not in the damn mood Barnes.”

“How could you possibly fall in love with someone like me?!”

I look at him with confusion painted across my face, “what are you talking about?”

“I heard you, Petrova. I heard you talking to Natasha, telling her about us. Things you still haven’t explained to me. Now answer my question.” I can hear the slight growl in his voice, “how could you possibly fall in love with someone..like..me?”

“Bucky - just don’t.”

“I was dangerous! I was a monster, Marena!” The anger is apparent in his voice.

“You were not a monster Buck,” I growl in response. My tone and mentality in the situation mimicking his.

“You said, and I quote, ‘he killed with no remorse.’ How is that not a damn monster? How could you ever find it okay to fall for someone like that? You deserve so much better, Petrova!”

“I didn’t fall in love with you, Barnes!” I yell out. I take a deep breath and try to compose myself at least a little, “if you can call what we had love. I walked into, whatever it was, with you - my eyes were wide fucking open. I chose to take every damn step along the way. You had no control over yourself. That wasn’t you doing that stuff, and I knew it! I, on the other hand, had full control over myself. My actions, my choices, were mine and mine alone! If either of us is a monster, it’s me!”

I turn my back to him, quickly throwing a right hook and almost knocking the bag off its hook.

His voice softens, “You’re not a monster, Marena. You didn’t have a choice. You may have been more in control than I was, but that doesn't mean you had a real choice.”

“But it was still me. Right? Isn’t that what you told Rogers when he said damn near the same thing to you?” I narrow my eyes, glaring at him. “I’ve killed more people than you have. I’ve done things you can’t even begin to imagine. Through it all, I was never out of control. I was never triggered and forced to act.”

“You still couldn’t have said no. They would have killed you.”

“That’s just it, Bucky. As a kid, maybe I was stuck. But eventually, I was offered the chance to walk away. They offered it - but I chose to stay.”

I can see the confusion in his eyes. I squat down, resting my arms on my knees, my eyes focusing on a spot on the floor.

“I couldn’t bring myself to leave you there alone. It was clear how you changed when I was around. No one else ever noticed it, and I was glad for that, or who knows what might have happened. The thing is, they started to use you against me, Buck.”

“What do you mean? They found out about -”

“No. Not right away anyway.” I let out a heavy sigh before continuing, trying desperately to gather my thoughts.

“They realized that I would do pretty much anything if it meant you didn’t have to do it. It didn’t take long for them to utilize that and get me to do whatever they wanted — even convincing me to do some of the vilest things without having to trigger my dark side. All they had to do was threaten to send you instead. So that left me with two choices. I either left, leaving you behind, or stayed and did whatever they wanted.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed just because of me.” His voice is quiet, sad.

I chuckle a little, avoiding his eyes at all costs. “The Soldier said the same thing.”

“I am still that Soldier, Marena.” He crouches down in front of me, “you know Petrova. Whatever happened to me in Wakanda may have taken away my memories of you, but -”

“Don’t remind me, please.” I groan. “Not that it was all bad. Trust me; I’m glad you forgot the pain I caused you.”

“But…” he emphasizes, “they didn’t erase how you made me feel.”

I finally lift my eyes to meet his, revealing the glossed-over appearance. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what I felt before when we were together. If it was love, or what, but, the longer you’ve been in this Tower, the stronger the feelings have been, and I couldn’t explain them at all. Then that week we spent together on the mission? That was the first full week I’d had without a single nightmare.”

“Bucky…”

“Shut up.” He says softly, placing his finger over my mouth to shush me. “I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t figure out why the first night back, I woke up screaming. Later that same morning, with you in my arms as we slept, I never felt more…”

“...Home,” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He smirks a little. “I still don’t know how you could have ever -” I see the pain in his eyes. The confusion. The hope.

“Despite what you’re thinking, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about our past - except to spare you the pain - or our future.”

“What do you mean?”

“I believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do things we’d choose anyway. And you know what? I’d choose you,” I reach out, cupping his face in my hands softly, “in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you, and I’d choose you.”

This time I didn’t bother holding myself back. Rocking forward, allowing my knees to quickly make contact with the floor that was just inches away, and I press my lips to his.

It has been a few days since Bucky had confronted me in the training room, and ever since, it is as if he can’t be out of my sight.

He will wait until he knows Steve is asleep each night and then sneak into my room. Climbing into bed, he’ll curl up and drift off to sleep. Even nights when I come in late, whether from a mission or a rare night out on the town, I find him asleep in my bed. He always manages to wake before Rogers, though, and make his way back to his room just in case.

During the day, he is always by my side. Whether I am cooking, training, or just relaxing with a movie, it doesn’t matter. He still makes sure to keep me in view.

He will ask questions here and there, but there is more to it. I know it, he knows it, I can’t get him to tell me what exactly is going on in his head, but I know there is something.

At first, his questions are typical, I suppose. Things like how long he was a winter soldier, was he really that heartless of a monster, stuff that he already knew, but wanted validation from someone who had been there.

Then his questions change. As I face the counter, making myself a cup of coffee one morning, I hear him slide into one of the seats at the island bar.

“Petrova, why did Hydra send me after you?”

I freeze. That isn’t anything Steve would have told him. He didn’t know, exactly. And I know I didn’t mention it, did I?

“What do you mean, Buck?” I turn to face him. Cautious but trying to stay relaxed.

“When you ran off, left Hydra, they sent me -well, the Soldier- after you. Why?”

“Ho-How, do you know they sent you after me?”

“I remember…”

I sure hope this is just an isolated thing. Please don’t let him remember everything.

“W-Well Bucky… I, uh…”

“Please tell me honestly, Petrova. Good or bad, I don’t care. It’s in the past. Just, please, tell me?” His voice held hope and worry.

I let out a heavy sigh. He is right; there’s no sense in lying to him. “I was your mission, Buck. They, uh, they sent you after me, so you would either kill me or bring me back to them. You had never failed, and they were determined to get me back.”

“Did I - Umm - Did I ever succeed?” The tone of his voice worries me. He is scared of the answer.

“You found me once.” I shrug, “kind of.” I chuckle a little.

“Kind of?” He raises a brow, questioning. I can see his demeanor relax a little.

“You were in the right country, wrong part. I found you instead. We talked, albeit briefly, and then I left again. As far as the Winter Soldier’s history goes, I was the only mission you ever failed. In part, because Hydra forgot I was the best they had, but also -”

“Because I loved you.” He whispers.

“Yea, Buck. At least a part of you did, I suppose.” I smile softly.

“Do you… Remember the last thing I said to you?”

“Of course I do.” I lean against the counter, looking down at my cup, avoiding his eyes as I repeat some of our conversation, “You said… ‘Ты мой дом, и мне нелегко его разрушить. Часть меня всегда будет твоей, моя прекрасная тьма. (You are my home and it is not easy for me to destroy it. Part of me will always be yours, my beautiful darkness.)’”

There is a pause, a deafening silence engulfing the room after I spoke the words. He reaches across the bar, lifting my chin with two of his fingers, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“Моя тьма (My darkness)…” He mumbles. “Моя Королева Теней (My Queen of Shadows)…”

“Мой свет (My Light)…” I mumble in reply. “Мой солдат (My Soldier)…”

Those phrases. They aren't written in the diaries anywhere; I made sure of that. Bucky shouldn't know them. No one did.

Except, of course...

Chapter 23  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 21

Chapter 20

Waking up alone the following day was strange. I knew it was bound to happen, but that didn’t change the fact that I missed his presence.

After getting dressed, I make my way down to Natasha and Wanda’s floor. I didn’t bother knocking on her door because there was no way she’d respond anyway. So, I open the door and walk-in.

She is still curled up in her bed, sleeping peacefully. She looks just like the beautiful, deadly angel she is.

I know the best and most dangerous way of waking her up is to simply, well, jump on her.

Walking quietly and carefully up to her bed, I pounce, landing on my knees just behind her while driving my hands into her side. Not enough to injure her, but hard enough to knock the breath out of her momentarily.

“What the hell!?” She yells out.

“Язык, Наталья, (Language, Natalia,)” I laugh as I run to the door, pressing my back against it. Not trying to leave, but just being out of her reach.

“Тень! Ты сука! Я убью тебя, пока ты спишь! (Shadow! You bitch! I will kill you while you sleep!)” She scowls, trying to hide her smile.

“Продолжай мечтать, сестра. (Keep on dreaming, sister.)”

Looking at her clock, she groans. Natasha never was a morning person.

I walk back to her bed and take a seat. Crossing my legs under me, I wait for her to wake up enough to have a conversation.

Sitting up, she pulls her knees to her chest. Anyone who didn’t know us would probably think we look like a couple of middle school kids about to gossip over boys. Well, I suppose they’d be partially correct in that thought.

“Что это, Петрова? (What is it, Petrova?)”

“You were right last night, Natalia.”

“What do you mean?” She looks at me, concerned.

“I do need to talk to someone. This - This feeling? It’s destroying me, Natalia, and I don’t know what to do.”

“First things first. Coffee.” She rolls out of bed, and I can’t help but laugh.

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

Unlike my floor, Nat and Wanda don’t have a mini kitchen on their level. So the two of us make our way to the central kitchen. I start the coffee while Nat finds something for herself to snack on.

She settles herself onto one of the stools at the island, and I make her coffee just the way she likes it. I know I’ll need a little extra to get through this, so I add a small amount of bourbon to my cup.

Who am I kidding? I add a couple of shots worth of bourbon to my cup.

Setting her coffee in front of her, she smiles as she inhales the sweet steam. Sighing, she finally looks at me and says, “Okay, now you can talk.”

I laugh and take a couple of small sips of the still-burning liquid in my hands. Leaning against the counter on my forearms, I take a deep breath before starting.

“Well… “ I pause, not sure where to even begin the story.

“Start at the beginning. It’ll be easier. We were at the Academy - is that where you met him?”

I knew she was trying to help. Frustrating as it was. I have to keep my calm.

“I wasn’t a Widow, as you know. My program was -- Well, it was basically --“ I struggle to find the words.

“Take your time, Shadow. We have all morning.”

I take a deep breath, knowing I need just to rip the band-aid off, sort of speak. “I was a Winter Soldier, Nat. The only difference was, they started training me as a child, even before the Red Room. By the time they gave me the serum, it just enhanced everything they had taught me.”

Her eyes widen a little at the information. She knew I would leave home on occasion but never knew where. Only that when I returned at night, I was too exhausted to spend time with her. She knew about the Red Room training, of course, because she was there.

I still had never told her the truth about my past after the Red Room throughout all these years.

“Once I hit a certain point in my training, they gave me to Barnes. I was like his shadow. He became my handler, my trainer. He made me into what I am.”

“The best damn assassin on the planet?” She looks at me with a raised brow, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “The student surpassed the teacher as it were.”

I take a few more sips from my cup before deciding how to continue.

“So, what happened then? Did he turn on you? Or what?”

“No. We uh -”

I pause, sighing quietly, trying to decide on the right words yet again. “It started small, away from others. Holding onto him a little tighter when on his bike or holding hands even if we weren’t undercover. Somehow, I could get through the shell that Hydra created and see glimpses of the real James Barnes.”

I take another sip of the liquid courage in my hands before continuing, “Those glimpses at the buried truth seemed to have solidified me into his mind somehow. So, regardless of what happened to him, regardless of what state he was in mentally, he always remembered me. Always knew I was someone to be trusted.”

“How did you get free from Hydra then if you were one of them? Did he help you escape?” Natalia knew how difficult it was to get away from Hydra.

“God no,” I pause a moment again, taking a deep breath. “No, um, somehow, one of the agents found out. They, uh, made me watch as they strapped Bucky into some fucking chair. One, I learned, he was all too familiar with in general. Though I had never seen it before, I never knew about what happened to him when we were apart.”

Looking at my cup, I can’t lift my eyes to her. I can’t let her see the tears that threaten to fall - for some reason.

“The agent held me,” I continue, “as best he could, not that I put up much of a fight at first, and… I won’t forget the words, ‘Ты посмотришь, принцесса. Пока мы берем твою память от головы солдата. (You look, princess. While we take your memory from the Soldier's head.)’”

“Explains why you hate that nickname.” She mumbles quietly. I hear her, but it doesn’t register what she says. I have focused my mind elsewhere.

I grip my cup tighter, gritting my teeth, remembering the pain on his face, the muffled screams because of that mouthguard. Trying to look away, but the agent forcing me to face Bucky.

“His screams, Natalia? Were because of me.” I growl. I slam the cup onto the counter, cracking it enough to allow the coffee to trickle out. I can do nothing but stare blankly at the mess, tears still threatening my eyes, not from sadness but anger.

“So… I ran. Simple as that.” I go for a towel, but Nat reaches across the island and takes my arm, stopping me.

“You can’t beat yourself up over what happened, Shadow. It wasn’t your fault. It was -”

“But it was Natalia! I knew the consequences would be horrific for myself and him. With Hydra, they always were. I knew what it meant to harbor ‘feelings’ of any kind for the Winter Soldier. And I did it anyway! All because I convinced myself that I could get away with it!” I yell. Sure by now that someone can hear the commotion.

“I knew damn well what I was doing! I knew damn well the procedures in place should any of us from the program stray! And do you know the worst part of all of it?”

She mumbles something in reply, but I wasn’t paying close enough attention to care.

“I doubt he ever actually felt anything for me in return! He was void of emotion, for god sake - we both were! We killed with no remorse. You honestly think he could be capable of anything even remotely close to - whatever the fuck it was, I was feeling for him?!” I throw my cup at the wall, watching it shatter into a hundred pieces.

“Hey! Relax! -- Go cool off. I’ll clean up.” Her voice calm, collected as if my outburst was a regular occurrence.

I storm from the kitchen and take the stairs down to the training room. I knew, as soon as the words left my tongue, that I was lying. I knew Bucky had loved me, or at least some form of that emotion. He had his ways of showing as much. The Winter Soldier may not have been capable, but Bucky sure as hell was.

Chapter 22  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 20

Chapter 19

Returning late at night after the mission, we all sat through the debriefing, barely managing to keep our eyes open. Once Steve finished rambling on, he made one final announcement.

“Everyone has the day off tomorrow.”

“This isn’t some trick, is it Cap?” I laugh.

“No trick. We all deserve a little downtime.”

Nat looks across the table at me and smiles. “Pizza and game night?”

“Hell, yes!” We both laugh loudly.

It was decided - mostly by us, but we aren’t going to let the others out of it. We will all end our day off with some pizza and games as a team.

We all happily part ways, each excited for a much-needed day to ourselves.

Steve, Bucky, and I retiring to our floor, sharing a lingering glance between myself and each of the men before entering their rooms. Things are different; I know that, but I’m not sure any of us realize just how quickly things are going to change.

The Tower is silent as I lay in my bed, tossing and turning for a couple of hours at least. Unable to sleep, unable to get comfortable. Between the nightmares that flash each time I close my eyes and the lack of -- well, the lack of comfort, it just isn’t happening.

That is when the screams break the silence.

I know that Bucky isn’t adjusting to our first night back very well, either. I hear Steve’s door open with a thud and his feet hitting the floor as he runs into Bucky’s room.

Lying there, quiet, I just listen.

Listen to Steve try to wake Bucky from the scene that is plaguing his mind. I listen to Steve try to calm Bucky once he is finally awake. I listen as they both make their way to our small kitchenette for some coffee.

Stepping out of my room quietly, I start to walk toward the voices of my two floor-mates. I stand back in the shadows and just listen for a moment.

“I don’t know what it is about her, Steve. But that week we spent…”

I hear him pause. We had promised each other that we wouldn’t tell anyone about waking up in each other’s arms each day of the mission.

“I never once woke up. Let alone screaming.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Buck. Have you tried to talk to her about it? Maybe she can shed some light on it for you.”

“She won’t say anything more about it. I’ve tried. All week I tried.”

“Give her time. She’s like a locked safe when it comes to certain things.”

I quietly make my way back to my room. Screw the coffee. I’m going to try to sleep again instead. It is still dark outside, after all.

Lying there again, with my eyes closed, I am still unable to drift off to sleep. Instead, I allow the stray tears to trickle onto my pillow as I think about what Bucky said.

I’m not sure how long I was there - I all but refuse to open my eyes until my alarm goes off this evening for our team game night - but I hear the door open quietly. Trying to decide if it is worth moving or not, the door clicks shut again, and the lock clicks into place.

I never hear the footsteps approach my bed; I only feel the mattress dip behind me. My blankets move, just slightly, allowing him to slip underneath them - feeling that cold metal against my bare skin, my body immediately relaxes.

Feeling him slide closer, pulling me back at the same time, he nuzzles his face into my hair and takes a deep breath. My body forms to his, and my breathing slows.

No words are spoken. They don’t need to be.

We both drift off into a blissful sleep for the remainder of the morning and afternoon, only stirring when my phone goes off, alerting me that it is time for dinner.

Try as I may, I can’t break free from Bucky’s hold. I turn under his arm and face him. I take in every tiny detail of his face because this is the calmest I have ever seen him within the Tower walls.

Kissing his nose gently, I watch as he scrunches it up. Groaning, he slowly opens his eyes.

“I need to go help Nat downstairs, Buck,” I whisper.

“So?” His voice still full of sleep.

“So, I can’t get out from under your arm.” I giggle quietly.

“Oops. Sorry.” He smiles before closing his eyes again.

Finally free of his grasp, I throw on some clean clothes and make my way downstairs, leaving Bucky to rest in my bed peacefully.

Standing around the island, we are all enjoying some pizza and just an overall beautiful relaxing evening. Everyone is laughing and having a good time.

Most of the group has decided to play their version of twenty questions. I’m not ready to answer most of them, so I just sit back, pretending to listen, smiling and laughing when I see others react.

I did my best to tune out the conversations going on until I hear my name. It seems Nat feels I need to partake, at least a little, in their game.

“...Petrova?”

“Huh?” I look up, confused.

“Have you ever been in love?” Natasha asks again. The room is suddenly silent.

“I-I-.” My voice quiet and innocent, “I don’t know.”

I think for a moment, trying to remember all the times I was with the Soldier. I try to think of what love is supposed to feel like and if it was something that I felt for him or if it was something else.

After debating for what seemed like an eternity, I can feel their eyes burning into me - my tone changes from soft to cold and harsh. “It’s painful, pointless, and overrated. Why would anyone want that?”

My eyes flit to Bucky before focusing back on the cup in my hand. Undetected by most, but not going unnoticed by Nat.

“Would you ever love someone?” She pushes.

I take a deep breath, staring blankly in her direction. "Doubtful. But then, in this world, nothing is certain."

Setting my cup in the sink, I make my way toward the elevator to go back to my room. Wanting to avoid any more questions along those lines. It is too late, though; Nat knows it all from just one small action.

No sooner did I press the button, she is behind me with a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Marena.” Her voice is quiet but sincere.

“It’s fine, Nat.” I don’t know who I was trying to convince more? Myself, or her?

“Barnes, huh?” I turn and look at her with narrow eyes.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I state coldly.

“Come on, сестра (sister). You have to tell someone this story. It’s eating you up inside, I can tell.”

I pull away from her, stepping into the elevator without another word.

Arriving at my room, I quickly discard my clothes and throw on an oversized t-shirt. Crawling into bed, I pull the covers up tightly against my neck and try my best to fall asleep.

Maybe Nat is right. Maybe telling someone about it all will help to ease my mind. But do I want to remind myself of everything? Everything I caused him?

After a few hours of lying alone in my bed, I finally hear Steve and Bucky return to their rooms.

“I think I’m going to skip the run, tomorrow man. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s fine, Buck. You need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” With a click of a door, I know Steve has gone into his room.

A moment later, I hear Bucky’s door open and close. I secretly hope he hasn’t entered. I got my answer when I hear my door softly click open — listening as Bucky closes and locks the door silently behind him.

The bed dips behind me again, but this time I don’t wait for him. I roll over, facing his solid form, and slide toward the middle of the bed. He matches my movements, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me in. I bury my face into his chest and feel myself relax.

“I’m sorry about earlier, doll. I don’t know what upset you, but that wasn’t Nat’s intention. You know that, right?”

“I know Buck,” I mumble against him. “I’ll be okay. I just need some sleep.”

“Do you want me to -”

“No. Stay. We both know it’s better for both of us.”

He presses a kiss against my hair, and we both quickly fell into a deep slumber.

Chapter 21  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314​

Finding Home Chapter 19

Chapter 18

The first morning of our mission, I awoke feeling better than I had in years. I knew immediately why, too.

I had slept. A beautiful, deep, restful sleep.

Waking peacefully, with that massive arm wrapped tight around my middle, I knew that Bucky had finally gotten a good night’s rest as well. I was warm - almost too warm - which meant he had stayed close the whole time.

A small smile forms across my lips as I slip out from under his grasp. Turning to watch him sleep, only for a moment, he looks thoroughly at peace. I make my way into the bathroom to get ready for our day.

As I emerge, I see that Bucky has turned and is facing the bathroom. His eyes are open, and he is watching me.

“I… I didn’t hurt you at all last night. Did I?” He questions softly, his body visibly tensing up in worry.

“No, Buck. You didn’t.”

“Good.” I watch as he relaxes again with a sigh. “I was afraid… when you weren’t here…”

“I just woke up before you did, Bucky. I figured I’d get my shower out of the way. If it helps, I’ll stay in bed until you wake up next time.” I chuckle.

He offers a small smile as he makes his way into the bathroom.

I get dressed, putting on a beautiful yet simple dress and some heels. Standing in front of the mirror, putting on a little makeup, I hear Bucky make his way back into the room. Watching through the mirror, though never stopping my task, I can’t help but stare at the perfect man behind me.

It is unmistakable as ever to me at that moment - I missed my soldier. I wanted him, sure, but the truth was, I needed him.

But I couldn’t think of myself. I had to focus on the mission at hand.

With the comm piece in my ear, and the team chattering away, Bucky and I walk the streets. Hand in hand, a smile plastered on my face; we explore all the little vendors set up along the way.

Both of us are oddly relaxed. Our muscles aren’t tense and ready for a fight like they usually are; our eyes aren’t scanning everything around us, looking for a threat. Sure, we are still aware of our surroundings - the people, the vehicles, the action going on around us - but we had slipped, subconsciously, into a different frame of mind.

Typically, if you know what to look for - which the opposition usually does - you can pick out one of the Avengers from a crowd with ease. Even someone as good as Natasha can’t completely hide from a trained eye amongst the general public.

That was something Bucky and I have always been able to do, though. We could stay vigilant while still appearing to be typical people. It is one more reason that Hydra would send us together. Bucky and I could blend in with no problem - well, so long as we kept his left arm covered - but still get the job done better than anyone.

I have to say, I am thankful Bucky is listening to me and following my lead. Having him put that trust in me helped his mind open up to the things he didn’t know, or at least didn’t remember, he could do.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two had done this before Petrova.” I hear Tony quip in my ear.

“And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to blow this for us, Stark,” I mumble in a quiet reply.

“There’s a reason I said they were our best choice, Tony. Now let them do their job.” Steve jumps in to try and help.

“You two are hiding something from me. I know it.” He retorts.

I feel Bucky’s hand release from mine, but I pay no attention. I know he is safe - I trust him.

“Where is Bucky off to now?” I hear Steve question.

“How should I know? It’s not like we had a plan or anything.” Tony’s tone is a distinct mix of sarcasm and frustration. “Trust them, you said. They know what they’re doing, you said. So why don’t you tell us where he’s off to Capsicle?”

“Natasha, any visual?” Steve’s voice comes through again, seemingly ignoring Tony’s outburst.

“He’s at some fruit stand or something.” She can’t see much from her spot at the little cafe.

“That man and his plums,” I speak quietly, avoiding any unwanted attention. “He’s fine. I’ll make my way his direction.”

I smile at the vendor in front of me as I step away and walk toward Bucky. Never shifting his gaze from the food in front of him, his hand instinctively snakes around my hips and pulls me in closer to his side.

“Are you going to get some to take back to the room? Or only admire them here in the street?” I smile softly.

“I suppose we could bring some back with us.”

He finally looks down at me and realizes where his hand is. I smile again, reassuring him it is okay, even going as far as to place a gentle kiss on his cheek before reaching for a piece of fruit myself.

It wasn’t clicking in my head what exactly was happening.

Maybe a part of me wanted to ignore the sign. Revel, silently, in the calm and comfort.

Our time went by quickly.

A couple of days spent walking the streets. Putting on a convincing show for the lowlifes that were watching us.

A couple of days spent dealing with the crooks themselves, putting up the front as a power couple looking to make a large weapons purchase. We knew what to say, what information to give, and what to keep quiet.

Then, it was just a dull day of taking down their entire operation when they were stupid enough to take us to their warehouse to see their stock.

Each day of that week ended the same way, though with us lying quietly in bed, drifting off to sleep.

And each day - save for the first - began the same way. Bucky’s arm wrapped around me, pulling me in close as I waited for him to wake. Whether I was facing him or having my back pulled to his chest, I always awoke in his tight embrace.

That second day, when he cautiously opened his eyes and saw how we were lying, he’d been embarrassed. Unsure why he had me held so close and afraid I would be upset.

I can’t say I blame him, really, after the way I’d been acting towards him since my return.

I reassured him that it was of no consequence. If anything, I welcomed it, though I still would not tell him why.

Now, the only thoughts I had on that final night were how I desperately didn’t want the mission to end.

I wanted to continue waking up in his arms. Continue getting the best sleep I’d had in a long time. Continue feeling at home once again.

Chapter 20  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 18

Chapter 17

It has been two weeks since the night I helped Bucky with his nightmare. The events of our talk after, still playing in my head on occasion.

He didn’t know what had happened before our talk. I don’t even think he remembered having a nightmare at all.

That was when the perfect opportunity landed in Steve’s lap - so to speak.

As I’m lying in my bed, my back against the headboard, I hear a soft knock on my door. I try to ignore it and focus on my reading, but the tap tap tap continues.

“What, Steve?” I finally call out.

My door opens gradually, and he peeks around it before opening it entirely. With a smile on his face, he walks in and makes his way to the bed. I know he’s up to something, but I figure it’s best to give him a chance.

Setting my book down, I watch as he lifts my legs to take a seat, placing them across his lap.

“I have a question for you.” He says innocently enough.

“And that is?”

“We have a mission that came up. It will require some undercover work. Only about a week. Did you want to -?"

“YES!” I yell out excitedly before he can finish. “When do I leave?”

“I figured you’d be more than willing to take the job.” His smile widens. “Pack up a few things now; we head out in about an hour.”

I jump from my spot on the bed and hurry to pack a bag. He laughs as he walks toward the door to leave, calling over his shoulder. “Make sure you pack some nice dresses too. You’ll have meetings to attend, and they only deal with high-class customers.”

Once I am packed and ready to go, I make my way to the meeting room so Steve & Tony could brief us on what will happen. I mostly tune out what is said, until of course, he gets to the part that involves me.

“… So, you two will be a married couple looking to make a purchase,” he says nonchalantly.

“Excuse me. What?” I sit up and look at him, confused.

“You heard me, Petrova. We need strength on our side if something goes wrong.”

“So why can’t you be my better half for this little fiasco?”

“Because I can’t very well carry my shield in with me on the off chance that we might get shot. Between your speed and quick thinking and Bucky’s strength, you two are our best options.”

“You’re doing this on purpose, Steven Rogers,” I growl as I stand up to leave.

“Marena…” He begins before I cut him off.

“No. I got it. Mission first, remember? Just know - I’m pissed.” I turn and walk out of the room without another word.

I know he is doing it on purpose. He could have just as efficiently sent Natasha on this mission with Bucky. Instead, this is his way of torturing me.

He knows that I will have to tell Bucky some of our past for this to work the way it needs to.

We all sit in the quinjet in complete awkward silence. Everyone is slightly on edge after I had stormed out of the meeting room. None of them want to risk pushing me any further for fear of me snapping.

After we arrive at our location, we go over a few last-minute details.

Seeing as this has to be as authentic as possible and not offer a chance to reveal the truth, Bucky and I will be sharing a room at a local high-class hotel. The others will spend their nights at the safe house and days in town, helping keep an eye on us if anything may go wrong.

Since I can comfortably wear my hair down without any suspicions, I will be wearing an earpiece so that the others can hear what is happening. The only stipulation I have is that it gets shut off while we are in the hotel room alone. Steve and Tony were both quick to agree to those terms.

After putting the communication piece into place, I climb into our rental vehicle's back seat while Bucky loads our bags into the trunk.

“Petrova, you better talk to him, or this whole thing is a waste of time. If you don’t tell him and this mission fails because you two can’t be convincing…” I hear come through the earpiece.

Placing a finger on my ear, I quietly reply to the voice in my head. “Steve, I swear to god, if you don’t drop it, I will drop you.”

Once Bucky is in, we take off for the hotel. He can tell I am tense. It doesn’t help that I know the others can hear anything that will be said, so long as I keep that damn comm piece turned on in my ear.

“You know, you don’t have to do this. I’m sure Nat or Wanda would -”

“No, Buck.” I sigh and turn to face him. “Not only would Steve not allow them to take my place, we really are the best option.” Turning back to the window, I mumble, “Besides, this is his way of forcing my hand because he knows I’d never do it on my own.”

“It’s for your own good. And you know it.” I hear Steve quip in my ear.

“Do what on your own? Petrova, I’m not that person anymore, you know that, right? You have no reason to be scared -”

“No, it’s not that, Bucky.” I interrupt. “Trust me. I’m more scared of Stark than of you.” I chuckle softly.

Without looking in his direction, my hand absentmindedly finds his. I lace my fingers with his and let out a soft sigh. I feel him hesitate a moment before he squeezes my hand gently in return.

“Give me a little time to come up with the best way to tell you. I promise we’ll talk about it at the hotel.”

Arriving at the hotel, Bucky grabs our bags from the car, and we make our way to our room. We have a beautiful suite, complete with a small kitchen.

He sets my bag on the bed, and I lazily start unpacking a few things, being sure to remove and shut off the communication piece from my ear.

The room stays silent for about an hour. Neither of us says a word to the other. That is, until nightfall anyway.

I am sitting on the bed, going through some papers from Steve, when I see him standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

“I’ll uh - I’ll take the couch,” Bucky say, motioning to the main room of the suite.

“Nonsense Buck. Come on.” I pat the bed next to me. “Besides, we’re supposed to be a married couple, right?” I smile.

“I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything, princess.”

“I’ll be fine, Bucky. Really.” I watch as he haltingly makes his way toward the bed. Still hesitant to get too close. “But I swear to god if you call me that again, I will knock you out.” I narrow my gaze slightly.

I see him recoil slightly from my tone, “Got it. Sorry…”

My features soften again as I continue, “Look, I’m sorry about earlier, by the way.”

“What do you mean?” He looks at me with a bit of confusion.

“Brushing you off. Throwing a fit at the Tower. Hell, how about the entirety of the last few months that I’ve been here?” I shrug, turning to face him.

“It’s fine, Marena. I’m used to it.”

I lower my head, whispering, “Not from me, though.”

“Hey.” He places two fingers under my chin, lifting my head until I look into his eyes again. “I know we have some history together. And if I ever hurt you, I -”

“No, Bucky.” I interrupt him. “You never hurt me. Not once.” I pull away from him, turning my back, unable to keep looking at his perfect face. “If anything, I hurt you,” I mumble.

“I forgive you.” He whispers.

Turning and looking at him over my shoulder, I try to offer a weak smile. He has no idea what he’s saying.

“You wouldn’t if you knew what I caused. And you shouldn’t.”

“Sure, I would. I was a monster, Petrova. I probably deserved whatever happened.”

Whipping around on the bed, I cup his face in my hands and pull him closer. “You listen here, James Barnes. You were never a monster. Do you hear me? You were never in control of the things you did, and you sure as hell never deserved any of the shit that happened to you. Least of all from me.”

As painful as it is, I resist the urge to place my lips against his.

“Tell me why.” His voice was full of hesitant desperation, “tell me our story.”

“In time, Bucky.” I sit back up and lean back against the headboard again. “For now, I can tell you only pieces.”

“I’ll take as much, or as little, as you want to offer, doll.” He smiles at me sweetly.

“We worked together under Hydra. Close together. Any mission I went on, there was a good chance you went too. You trained me to be what I am, Bucky. That’s why I wasn’t scared the day you caught me and didn’t try to fight. I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I also knew I stood no chance from where I was.”

“But you took me down pretty easy at the Tower.” He chuckles.

“You weren’t standing over me with a gun to my head,” I laugh in reply.

“Why did they have me train you?” He questions.

“Because you were the only one that could handle me. I was too strong for the other agents.”

“How -”

“I’m like you, Bucky. It wasn’t just those five soldiers in cryo that were the last of the winter soldiers. There was one last soldier.”

He is silent for a few moments, processing what I said. “You…” he whispers.

I can see the gears moving in his mind - pieces were falling back into place. I can see in his eyes as the memories flash. Just bits and pieces, but still, I can see it.

“How did you get out?”

“It’s not important right now.” I sigh. “I know Steve has helped you remember your past. Including some that involved me. Tell me, Bucky, what do you remember about the last time we met? Before I took off a few years ago?”

“Well, uh, I remember that the doctor triggered the Winter Soldier. And that you were there when I woke up in that warehouse with Steve and Sam. But I -  I don’t remember anything else.” He put his head down as if he was disappointed in himself.

“That’s fine, Bucky. We’ll focus on that later.” I lift his head to look at me again. “What matters now is that you know that we work well together. So, acting like a married couple should be no problem at all for us. Just take my lead, okay?”

“Sure, doll. But, you will finish telling me about us eventually, right?”

“When the time is right, sure.”

I smile, picking up all the papers and moving them to the nightstand. Shuffling myself down into the bed, I rest my head on the pillow and look up at Bucky. He has a nervous expression on his face, and I know what is going through his head.

“Rest, Buck. I promise you won’t hurt me.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Just… trust me.”

Chapter 19  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 17

Chapter 16

As the elevator doors open, I let out a quiet sigh of relief before stepping out. Walking straight down the hall, I make my way to a room with which I am very familiar.

While at the Academy, we learned many things. Not only were we trained to be weapons, but we also received a general education - just like any other child in school would - as well.

Though all of us that went through the Academy excelled at everything taught to us, some excelled far beyond others in certain areas. Natasha - for example - could out-dance me with ease. She was phenomenal.

Music is where I excelled. I could sing, or play any instrument, just as well - if not better - than any professional out there. While in service of HYDRA, this talent became my escape.

It was one of the only things I had to keep me level. It was private, and it was mine. No one even knew that the quiet rhythms I would tap out brought me solace. After a small amount of time with the Soldier, I discovered that the rhythms had a calming effect on him, too.

It is this talent that made this room my escape.

Tony is the only other one to use the room and the only one to know that I use it. Since he is presumably still asleep, I know I can retreat here and be alone with my thoughts.

I walk in and sit at the piano. My fingers find their respective spots in front of me, and I let them dance over the keys. I don’t have any specific song in mind, so I merely allow whatever fast-paced melody that flows to consume the small room. It is easy to get lost in the music and let time slip away.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind me causes my fingers to stop abruptly from the task at hand. I turn on the bench to see who could have found me and find a pair of chocolate brown eyes staring back at me.

Feeling as if the silence would suffocate me soon if no one spoke up, I decide to break the tension. “What is it, Stark?”

“Nothing. I just had a tickle in my throat. Please, continue.” He waves toward the instrument.

“If you want the room, Tony, tell me. I’ll leave.” I was exhausted and not willing to put up a fight.

“Why would I want you to do that?” His eyes offer sympathy, but his voice is dripping with its typical sarcastic tone.

“You know - as well as I do - that either of us only comes here to get away from the rest.” I chuckle a little, trying to lighten the mood that was engulfing the room.

“That may be, but I also seem to remember you never minding if I listened in before?” He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly as he smirks with a single raised brow.

“Fine. Have it your way Stark,” I smile in return.

He offers a nod and takes a seat in the chair left by the door. Turning back to the keys in front of me, I opt to change my tune to something more - close to home.

I allow my right hand to methodically play along with the melody while my left plays a slow tempo, keeping the beat as I go along.

“So…” Tony starts, finally taking my attention from the music. “Want to fill me in on what’s eating you, kid?”

“I don’t know if I even know anymore, Tony.” I turn on the bench again to look at him, “one minute, things are fine. People I consider family surround me, and I’m out of the line of constant enemy fire,” I take a deep breath before continuing, “as far as anyone is concerned, I should be on cloud nine.”

“So, what’s holding you down then?” He quickly looks me up and down, as if surveying, “you sure look like the same woman that helped us defeat a god and take down one of the best assassins the world has ever known.”

I smile, trying to think of how to answer.

“You still look like the girl who, despite everyone else’s attempts, was finally able to break the code that is Tony Stark,” he laughs a little, “and you sure as hell still look like the one person I would never want to be an enemy of.” He stands from his spot near the door and walks toward me, “but even still, looks can be deceiving. Something is off about you, Petrova. And it’s not just because Barnes is around, is it?”

“I don’t know, Tony.” I shrug, “maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”

“What is it, Marena?” He rests a hand gently on my shoulder, “I know we aren’t typically the type to open up, talk about our struggles, but I don’t want you to feel like you can’t open up to someone. Our demons may be different, but we’ve always been able to help each other in the past, Petrova. Let me help you again, huh?”

“I just... I don’t feel like I’m home here, Stark. Not anymore. I need - I need to find a place where I can go to take all this weight off my shoulders. Somewhere to give me the strength to look whatever devil in the face and make it back safe.” I turn back to the keys in front of me.

“There’s no reason this Tower can’t be that safe place again for you, Petrova,” he tries to offer sincerely.

“It’s not that…” I try to find the words to help him understand. My fingers were slowly pressing the keys again.

“Then what is? Help me understand.” He takes a seat on the bench next to me, watching me silently for a few moments before nodding to the keys as if trying to tell me that if I can’t find the right words, then to play my way to an answer.

My hands pick up their tempo, playing out a rhythm that feels right. “I’ve been through so much pain, and it’s hard to maintain any smile on my face ‘cause there’s madness on my brain. So I gotta make it back, but my home ain’t on a map.” I pause, albeit briefly, reflecting on everything that had taken me from the home I knew. “I gotta follow what I’m feeling to discover where it’s at. I need the memory, in case this fate is forever, to be sure these last days are better.”

Tony just sat silently, watching my hands glide up and down with ease as the words continue to flow.

“I found no cure for the loneliness. I found no cure for the sickness. Nothing here feels like home. Crowded streets, but I’m all alone.” I close my eyes as I repeat the words, “I found no cure for the loneliness. I found no cure for the sickness. Nothing here feels like home.” Slowing the words, as if emphasizing their meaning, “Crowded streets, but I’m all alone.”

I stop playing, taking my hands off the piano and resting them on my lap, but never taking my eyes off the black and white keys. “Tell me, Tony, how did all my dreams suddenly become nightmares?”

“I wish I had an answer.” He responds softly.

I nod with a tight-lipped smile, knowing there isn’t a correct answer. I retake a deep breath, “well, I didn’t power through all the struggles just to let a little trouble like this knock me out of my position. After all of the decisions I’ve made in my life, all the miles I’ve traveled, they can’t add up to the distance I’ve come to get to a place where even if there isn’t closure, I’m still safe.” I stand up from the bench and walk toward the door, turning back to face Tony only briefly, “and that’s what the Tower does offer me.”

Stark gives a slight nod and a knowing smile.

With my hand on the handle, I turn it slowly, “Thanks, Stark.”

“Any time Petrova.”

I open the door and walk out, finding my way back to the elevator and back upstairs to attempt to get some rest finally.

Chapter 18  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 16

Chapter 15

*Flashback Chapter*

“Thank you for this,” Steve said, barely looking toward the man standing next to him.

“Your friend and my father, they are both victims. If I can help one of them to find peace…” T’Challa’s voice trailed off.

“You know, if they find out he’s here, they’ll come for him,” Steve stated flatly.

“Then, let them try,” T’Challa said with a smug undertone - both men staring out the large window.

Tony finally knew more of the truth. He knew who killed his parents and the reality of how they died. He knew Bucky hadn’t been the only Winter Soldier created. Though he and Steve still didn’t know the whole truth, they each knew enough for now.

Tony didn’t need to know the truth of what I was. Steve didn’t need to know the extent of Bucky and I’s relationship. All either needed to know was that they could still trust me to do what was right at the end of the day.

The problem now was making the Winter Soldier, the one the world now knew, disappear from history.

When Steve took Bucky to Wakanda, I ran.

I wasn’t answering any of my phones, and I wasn’t contacting anyone. I became a ghost again. A shadow hiding where I knew they wouldn't find me.

I knew Steve would take care of Bucky.

I also knew I couldn’t face the man that I, admittedly, still cared for more than I cared for myself - not after everything I had caused him in the past. This was my chance to put my skills to fair use. It was a way for me to make amends, in at least some minor way, for some of the negative I had done through the years.

I took every book from Hydra that so much as mentioned a Winter Soldier, and I burned it — taking special care to destroy the journal that held all of the information on Bucky himself. Once I had destroyed all the hard copies of the data, I knew I was safe since Hydra had taken it upon themselves to eliminate any digital information they had on him.

As far as anyone now knew, the Winter Soldier was just a legend. A fairy tale. Those still alive who had any knowledge of his existence didn’t know enough to utilize him negatively. No one could trigger that side of Bucky again - except me anyway - and I’m not that heartless.

I felt my phone buzzing yet again. I really should just shut it off.

When it stopped, I waited. Knowing full well, if it were Steve or Tony, I’d be feeling that final buzz notifying me of a voice mail.

*buzzzz*

And there it was.

I pulled the phone out reluctantly and listened to the voicemail.

“Marena, I don’t know why you aren’t answering your phone, but if this is how it has to be, then so be it,” I could hear the slight pain in Steve’s voice as he spoke. “Buck is going back into cryo for the time being until T’Challa’s staff can try to come up with a solution to try to get that stuff out of his head. I wish you had been here for him. And I know he does too. But I’m sure you have your reasons, like always. Please don’t stay gone too long, okay?”

With that, the line went quiet.

I put the phone away and went about my life. Knowing Bucky was safe and in good hands was all that truly mattered to me at this point.

Every few weeks, my phone would ring.

On a rare occasion, it would be Tony. Rambling on about one thing or another, complaining about how I was still missing and no one could find me, and how upset he was with me for disappearing.

More often than not, though, it was Steve leaving me some update on Bucky. How the treatments were going, what was working - or better yet, what wasn’t.

That is until I got a short, simple message from Steve. It merely said, “It’s an emergency; you need to call me.”

I fought with the idea for a couple of days before finally making a choice.

On the one hand, it could be an actual emergency. Maybe they inadvertently managed to trigger the Winter Soldier side of Bucky? Perhaps he had run off, and they couldn’t manage to find him anywhere? On the other hand, it had been well over a year since I had runoff. Maybe this was just Steve’s way of trying to finally speak to me again rather than just leaving messages for me?

Picking up the phone, I clicked on Steve’s name. After just two rings, he answered.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t call.” I could hear the smile on his face.

“What’s the emergency, Rogers?” I questioned. I kept my tone stoic, not wanting to stay on the line too long.

“It’s Bucky.” I could hear the shift in his voice; he was worried about something. “They can’t figure out a way to get all that stuff out of his head, but they, unfortunately, managed to mess with his memories. They’re still there, just hidden.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, sighing.

“I mean, he remembered nothing. Not his past, nothing that happened to him, he didn’t even remember his name, Marena.” I could hear the growing concern in his voice.

“What does any of this have to do with me, Steve? I’m not even there.”

There was a pause. He was trying to decide how to answer. “What do you want me to tell him about you?” he finally managed.

“What?” I was confused. Why would he need to tell him anything about me?

“I’m helping him to remember the important things. Like, our childhood, how many people he’s helped and saved. I’m helping him remember who he is, not the crap Hydra made him think he was. I’ve been working with him for a few months, and he’s asking questions. What do you want me to tell him about you?”

“Nothing,” I said coldly.

“You’re going to come up eventually, Petrova. I don’t know what your history is together, and I can’t help him remember the good if I don’t know what it is. He loved you, Petrova; he should remember things like that.”

“No.” My voice flat.

“What do you mean, no?” I could hear the frustration building in his voice as he spoke.

“I mean, I don’t want him to remember me, Rogers. As good as you may make them sound, any memories that include me are tied to negative aspects of his past. The last thing he needs is some memory of me triggering a downpour of every negative memory that’s tied to it.”

“Marena…”

“I said no, Rogers. You want to tell him my name, fine. But you don’t tell him shit about me other than that. I’m not a good person, Steve. I’m not a good memory for him to have.”

“Yes, you are Petrova. He loved you, and you loved him. Despite what he turned into, you loved him. That is the best memory for him to have.”

“No.”

I didn’t say another word. I just hung up the phone. That was far from an argument I was willing to have right now.

Steve still called on occasion to update me on how Bucky was doing. He even told me how he and Tony had reconciled for the most part and that they had moved back to the Tower.

I’m not sure if he was doing it for himself or me, but I wasn’t going to complain either way. Regardless of what had happened, I missed my family.

Bucky was still slowly remembering who he was. The good anyway. Nightmares plagued him. A problem, which in itself is terrible, but when you don’t understand the images flashing before you, it’s even worse.

He didn’t recognize the Hydra agents, the victims; he didn’t remember the acts he witnessed himself carry out. Of course, Steve tried to brush it off as nothing. Just a nightmare in general and not a memory trying to seep through whatever wall they put up in Bucky’s mind.

Not that Steve could have answered many questions anyway, seeing as he had no idea of all the things that happened while Bucky was with them.

For some reason, though, I was always there when Bucky closed his eyes. Good or bad; paradise dream or horrifying nightmare - I was there.

He described me to Steve, hoping he could fill in the blanks on who I was and why I was always on his mind. Steve gave Bucky my name and that he knew me in the past but wasn’t sure how exactly Bucky knew me. He told Bucky that I had helped him when he needed it, though he wasn’t exactly sure how.

He told Bucky that I had helped the Avengers when they needed to but that no one knew much about me.

Though I wasn’t thrilled with him sharing so much information, I wasn’t going to fault Steve for trying to offer enough that Bucky wouldn’t ask too many questions or go off trying to figure out more on his own.

In time, Bucky would learn the truth - the whole truth - and Steve knew that. He just didn’t know when or how I would inevitably reveal the truth. But he knew that neither I nor my history with Bucky could stay hidden forever.

Chapter 17  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 15

Chapter 14

I am hunched over my notebook, sitting at the small bar in our little kitchenette. I am scribbling away, the words barely legible. It is late at night, or maybe really early in the morning. Hard to tell when you refuse to look at a clock.

I know it is at least late enough - or early enough - that no one else in the Tower seems to be awake yet. Bucky, thankfully, is still fast asleep after the ordeal that unfolded, and Steve is finally asleep after his mission as well.

Between Bucky’s nightmare and Steve learning more than I’d wanted him to, I wasn’t getting any sleep. My mind is racing with so many different thoughts, so many images; I know, if I close my eyes, I would be the one to wake up in a cold sweat.

So here I sit, alone with my book, my pen, and the tiny amount of light offered from the small overhead bulb on the small stove.

There is no order to my madness — no rhyme to my reasoning. As freely as thoughts bounce around in my mind, they land on the paper in front of me.

No rhyme — No reason — No order — Just random chaos in the form of words.

Dear Diary, Here we are again. Another night. Another fight. Mind racing, with no calm in sight. So many thoughts. Memories, questions - good and evil.

His face was flashing in my mind: those steel-blue eyes, the crinkle of his nose. The lines on the side of his eyes as he smiles. The images of what he’d been through burned into my thoughts, just as they are his.

My past. My present. My future. Do I continue to do what is expected of me? Or do I finally make the choices for myself?

I don't remember just one moment. I tried desperately to forget it all. I lost myself amongst all the pain and the anguish of what I endured. Perhaps it is better left unsaid? Pushing myself closer to that edge -

I'm not saying I'm sorry for the things I’ve done. I regret some, sure. But I can’t say that I apologize for any of it. Innocent blood spilled on my account in some way or another. But was it my fault? Should I be the one to apologize?

Was I ever really a dreamer? Someone with desires of her own? Do I imagine a heart, open and free? A time when the truth ran free? When the birth of a song appeared - or was it the death of a dream? Just a fantasy created?

Was I a traitor? Was I thinking for myself, of myself? Or instead subconsciously still following orders given long ago? Did I fall for the blood-lust? The disease that guided my hand for so long?

Have I ever truly wanted to be free? Do I want to deceive the devil?

Do I want to stop? Surrender? Or would I rather fight for victory in whatever I ultimately choose?

Would I second guess a kill if it meant saving a life? I’d never had a second thought before when it was just my body going through the motions. But now? Would I do the same? Would I go through the motions regardless of consequence?

Why would I ever dare lift someone so high on a pedestal when they didn’t deserve it? Why fall so deep under a spell cast by deceit? Why so blindly jump, just because they told me to, with no questions asked?

Was it love? Madness? Perhaps it was

“Hey,” his voice quietly says behind me. Bucky is silent in his approach. I never even heard the floorboards squeak. “What are you doin’ up, doll? You okay?”

I quickly close my notebook, not bothering to finish the thought that had begun to spill through the pen.

“I’m fine,” I mumble softly. “That’s what everyone expects to hear when asking that question, right?” I whisper, mostly to myself, though I know he can hear me.

“I don’t care what everyone else wants to hear. I prefer the truth.” He makes his way past me and into our tiny kitchen to make himself a snack.

“The truth isn’t exactly an argument I’d want to be started right now,” I sigh softly.

“Sometimes, there isn’t a good time for the truth, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be said. Better to give the truth at an inopportune moment than lie to save face.”

His words may have spoken wisdom, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth. Not yet.

I gather my book and my pen and stand from my chair. Pushing it into its place, I turn to leave the room.

“Look, Petrova…” He begins, trying to keep me from running away again.

“Just… don’t, Bucky. Please.”

“I know I can’t force you to talk to me.”

I never turn to face him. Standing my ground, I know I can’t get into any of this right now — not the way he wants.

“But, sometimes, it’s best to get those words out rather than bury them deeper into that pit you’re forming. Soon enough, it’ll consume you. You’re a ticking time bomb as it is. Do you want to make it worse, just because you can’t bring yourself to say something to me?”

Sometimes it amazes me how good he still is at reading me. He amazes me with just how well he still knows me - even if he isn’t aware of it. Perhaps it is because we are so much alike?

“I don’t know what it is about you, Petrova…” he continues, leaving me to turn slightly in my place to see him in my peripherals. My body is tensing under his words. Wondering how much he truly knows.

His steel-blue eyes still watch me, reading me with ease and calculation. Though it was evident, he isn’t fully aware of what his subconscious is doing.

I stand stock-still, waiting for him to continue.

“But there’s something… calming. Whenever I look at you…” His tone is soft, but he is confident in his words.

“Buck…” I say softly.

“Look, umm…” He clears his throat, trying to change the tone, almost like he snaps back into reality. “I may not be able to help you or anything, but uh… if you ever need to, I don’t know, have someone listen?”

“Bucky, I appreciate the thought, but…”

“Right.” He turns back toward the counter, mumbling to himself - not realizing I can hear him. “You can’t seem to be in the same room with me for long. Let alone open up to me. What was I thinking?”

With a soft sigh, I turn and head to the elevator.

As the doors open, I whisper in reply, “I’m sorry, Bucky. In time, you’ll understand.” My volume is just loud enough that I know he’d hear me.

I want to tell you, Bucky. I want to tell you everything. Just give me time, my Soldier.

Chapter 16  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 14

Chapter 13

It had been a relatively uneventful week since my training session with the two super soldiers.

The Tower is fast asleep. That is, except for myself. Steve isn’t back from his mission with Clint yet, though they are due back any time, and I always stay awake until I know they are all home safe.

As I sit quietly in my room, humming a soft tune to myself, my mind wanders to its safe place.

My Soldier - My Bucky.

I can’t stop myself from remembering the past; despite the negative, there was so much good between us. There was so much - what others had taken to calling - love. I don’t know that I agree with that sentiment, but there was something different when we were together.

Maybe Steve is right? Perhaps I should tell Bucky the truth. Combat any negative memories released with all the good.

That is when I hear it.

A painstaking scream. Though the doors muffle it, I still recognize it.

I jump off the bed and rush across the hall. Throwing the door open, I make my way quickly to the bed.

Bucky is lying there, arching his back off the bed and screaming in sheer agony. Nothing is physically holding him in place, but his mind keeps him attached to the bed as if restrained.

I climb onto the bed next to him, lying on my stomach, my feet near his legs, my mouth just millimeters from his ear. My fingers gently brush through his hair as I softly sing next to him.

“When I first saw you, I already knew. There was something inside of you, something I thought that I would never find. Angel of mine.”

“D-Darkness...I-I-” Still screaming, he struggles to get the words out, but I know he isn’t talking to me. “I require the d-darkness!” There is a pause. His eyes still closed, squeezing them tighter as if fighting against something. “I wi-will find the shadow!” Another brief pause, still fighting something but not nearly as hard as he was before, “I will d-defeat the shadow. I will kill the darkness,” he groans out.

I know what he is speaking about - it’s me. Bucky is dreaming about Hydra giving him his mission to find and kill me.

“I look at you, looking at me.” I continue. My mind focused on the words he just spoke. His screams subside finally, and he lowers his back to the bed. His eyes are still tightly shut, but I can see he is responding. “Now I know why they say the best things are free.”

‘That’s it, listen to my voice. It’s not real; they can’t hurt you anymore.’ I think to myself. My fingers never stopping their movement.

“How you changed my world, you’ll never know. I’m different now. You helped me grow. You came into my life, sent from above.”

His breathing is still erratic, and I can hear the quiet whimpers escaping his lips every so often. I know his mind is still torturing him, so I continue singing softly.

“When I lost all hope, you showed me love. Nothing means more to me than what we share. No one in this whole world can ever compare. Angel of mine.”

His breathing begins to even out, and his body relaxes. I continue anyway, though, knowing it will help him fall back into the deep sleep he deserves.

“What you mean to me, you’ll never know. Deep inside, I need to show. You came into my life, sent from above. When I lost all hope, you showed me love. I never knew I could feel each moment as if it were new. Every breath that I take, the love that we made, I only share with you.”

His breathing is finally back to normal. Closing my eyes, I place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“When I first saw you, I already knew. There was something inside of you, something I thought that I would never find — Angel of mine. You came into my life, sent from above. When I lost all hope, you showed me love — Angel of mine. How you changed my world, you’ll never know. I’m different now. You helped me grow. I look at you, lookin’ at me. Now I know why they say the best things are free.”

Steve clears his throat behind me. I got so caught up with helping Bucky relax; I didn’t realize Steve had returned. He didn’t say a word; he just stood leaning against the door frame, silently watching.

Placing a feather kiss against Bucky’s temple, I whisper against his skin. “Angel of mine.”

Finally, standing up from the bed, I make my way to the door - glancing over my shoulder when I hear Bucky stir, only to see him rolling to his side to get comfortable again. Not saying a word to Steve, I walk past and back to my room.

Unprompted, he follows behind and joins me, sitting on my bed.

“What was that about?”

“He was having a nightmare. You weren’t here, so rather than listen to him suffer I, went to help.” I shrug as if it were nothing.

“Marena…”

“What, Rogers? Honest, it was nothing more than that.”

“I have to fight with him, waking him up completely, to bring him out of those nightmares, Petrova. He wakes up, soaked in his sweat, and never goes back to sleep after. What you did in there? Buck never even opened his eyes. There was barely even a drop of sweat on him, and he’s fast asleep again as if nothing happened.”

I let out a heavy sigh, quickly losing hope that Steve will drop the subject and leave it alone.

“How did you do it? How did you calm him so easily?”

“Those nightmares are Bucky’s subconscious coming through. Those are the parts of his mind that still remember me, Steve.”

“So, what? You are the secret to calming him?” He looks at me, confused.

“Not exactly.” I stand up from the bed and walk toward my window, “well - maybe.”

“What is it?”

“Bucky…” I begin with a sigh. “Singing was my forte, my specific talent, and I used it any chance I got. I rarely sang around others, though, but I made exceptions while out on missions with no one around. At one point, I realized the Soldier's demeanor changed - it was slight, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. It was Bucky, the real Bucky, surfacing within the Soldier."

My attention fixed on the city lights below us. The cars on the streets, the sounds, everyone going about their business as if we aren’t here.

“On missions, when he was restless, I’d sing that song to relax him. Bring him back to focus, and ease the struggle in his mind.”

I let out a soft sigh and turn toward Steve, still sitting on my bed. “When he got free and was in hiding, he’d call me any time he woke up from a nightmare. I would sing to him over the phone until he fell asleep again.”

“What about before, when we found him after he’d been hiding? He wanted to see you before he’d even talk to me. As soon as you were in his arms, his whole demeanor changed. He was calm, relaxed. Still nervous, but far calmer than he was before you walked in.”

“It’s complicated, Steve. Think of that feeling you had when you first moved into the compound? Remember how you felt calm, safe as if you belonged again, finally?” He offers a nod of understanding, so I continue, “that’s what it feels like for Bucky and me - well, to an extent now anyway. When we thought we’d lost everything, we found each other.”

Chapter 15  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 13

Chapter 12

*Flashback Chapter*

Despite everything that had happened in the past with Bucky and me, I needed to make sure he was okay.

Every horrible memory I had, faded away. The pain I had caused, the fact that Hydra had sent him to kill me after I ran off, none of it mattered right now.

I just needed him to be okay. I needed to be in his arms. I needed him.

“Hey, Cap… “ Sam’s voice pulled our attention toward the other room.

Steve stepped inside, but I held back around the corner.

“Steve.” Bucky’s voice was quiet.

“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve held his ground.

“Your mother’s name is Sarah.” He smirks a little, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.” Bucky chuckles slightly.

“You can’t read that in a museum.” Steve smiles.

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam was rightfully hesitant.

“What did I do?” Bucky looked up at Steve.

“Enough.”

“I knew this would happen.” He sighed. “Everything Hydra put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words.”

“Who was he?” Steve asked.

Bucky looks around the room as if trying to find something.

“Who was he, Buck?” Steve asked again.

“Where’s Marena?” Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the man in front of him. “I know she’s here. She’d never leave me like that.”

“You can see her in a minute.” Steve briefly glanced back towards where I was standing. “Who was he, Bucky?”

“I don’t know… Petrova. Please.” I could hear Bucky’s voice shake.

“People are dead. The bombing. The setup. The doctor did all that to get ten minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’ Buck.” Steve stepped toward the machine, loosening the grip so Bucky could have his arm free.

“I want to see Petrova.” He growled lowly. His eyes fixed on the floor.

Steve had never seen this side of his friend. Even though it was the real Bucky - the longing for another, the demand in his voice to see me, the utter refusal to talk to Steve without me - it wasn’t anything Steve had seen from him before.

“Fine.” He stepped to the side and caught my eye, nodding.

I stepped into the room, walked right to Bucky, and knelt in front of him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed his forehead gently. Immediately, his arms were around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. His face nuzzled against my neck.

He pulled back a little when I flinched. I hadn’t realized I was hurt at all until he had squeezed his arms around me.

“Marena… ?”

“It’s okay,” I smiled at him, trying to reassure him.

“Did I…?”

“It wasn’t you, Bucky.”

His face fell a little. “Shadow, we’ve talked about -”

“No. I mean, it wasn’t your hands that did it, Barnes. I swear.” I kissed his cheek.

“As cute as this is, can we get back to figuring things out, please? Because I’d love some answers at this point.” Sam interjected.

“He wanted to know about Siberia. Where they kept me - he wanted to know exactly where.” Bucky looked at Steve, his arms tightening around me again, though this time careful not to cause any added pain.

“Why would he need to know that?” Steve’s eyes showed more concern than his voice let on.

“The others…” I whispered.

Bucky nods.

“Others?” Sam looked at me.

“I’m not the only winter soldier.” Bucky looked up at me as if asking for help.

“Petrova?” Steve looked at me, his eyes dark yet pleading for answers. He didn’t want to push his friend, but he needed to know what he was dealing with.

I sigh as Bucky buries his head in my neck again.

This may not have been typical ‘Bucky behavior’ as far as Steve was concerned, but to me, I knew what was going on in Bucky’s head. I knew that the simple feel of my body against his was enough to calm his mind. Remind him that he wasn’t in control when he did those horrible things.

I knew that my scent - strange as it may seem - and my voice was enough to keep him from having a breakdown mentally. Bucky was constantly at war within himself, and in the years he spent in hiding, he had come to rely on me to keep the peace between the two sides of himself that were at battle.

“It was an entire program. Bucky was just the first. There were seven in all. Five are still in cryo in Siberia.” I finally offered.

“Who were they?” Steve questioned, trying to get me to give as much information as he could get.

“The most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in Hydra history. And that was before the serum.” Bucky never lifted his head.

“The doctor, can he control them?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest.

“Enough,” Bucky muttered.

“Enough? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam threw his hands in the air in frustration.

“It means they weren’t like Bucky in the sense that they could be completely under control. The serum left them -- erratic. Unruly. They were too unpredictable for Hydra to deploy. But that doesn’t mean they couldn’t implement them if the need arose.” I replied.

“He said he wanted to take down an empire?” Steve questioned.

“With these guys, he can do it. They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming.” Bucky said, finally lifting his head.

“In other words, it means we’d be screwed.” Sam turned and walked toward Steve.

“But if there’s five there, and Buck is here, where’s the last one?” Steve questioned.

“Here,” Bucky replied in a whisper.

“What?” Sam whipped around, looking between us.

Steve looked at me, his eyes cold. “You?”

I nodded.

“But...how...” Steve was taken aback by this new intel about me.

“I was different. They took a different approach when it came to me. I had been in Hydra’s care from a young age, so the serum only enhanced everything that was already inside me. Like it did with you, Steve. That doesn’t mean they didn’t add the extra safety of a trigger too.”

I looked up to see him trying to wrap his head around what I was saying. “It’s why they could send us out together. They knew that we would return, that we would do what was needed and protect each other so that we each returned unharmed. We were -- loyal to Hydra.”

“Okay, so if he succeeds in waking them, what are our chances?”

“Slim.” I shrugged.

“Then I guess we’re going to Siberia.” Steve turned to walk out of the room.

“I’m going with Steve.” I stood up from Bucky’s lap, but his hands stayed on my waist.

“No, you’re not.” Steve turned to face me again, “it’s going to be tough enough, possibly taking on five super soldiers plus the doctor. I can’t risk you getting hurt.”

“I can take care of myself,” I crossed my arms. “Remember, I am one of those super soldiers, Steve.”

“And what if he activates Bucky again?”

“I know how to get through to him.” I pulled from Bucky’s grasp and stepped right in front of Steve. “Hell, I’m the only one that can.”

“What if he activates you, Marena?” Steve’s voice got quiet, laced with concern.

“He can’t,” I said smugly.

“He did it to Bucky.”

“Hydra wrote down Bucky’s trigger words. The others, well, think of them as in a permanent state of activation.”

“So, what makes you think he can’t activate you?” Steve held my shoulders roughly.

I heard Bucky shuffle behind me. He was standing to protect me, even if from his best friend.

“Все нормально, (It’s all right,)” I tell him, reassuring him. Hearing the shuffling stop, I looked up at Steve. “They never recorded my triggers. Anywhere. There are only two people alive that know them since I took out the agents assigned to me, and they are both in this room. I can’t trigger myself, and Bucky? Even as the Winter Soldier, he couldn’t be forced to say them.”

“How can you be so sure?” Steve stepped back from me slightly.

“The agents in charge of the program tried to get the Winter Soldier to trigger me several times. Just in case something went awry on a mission, they’d know he could get me back on the proper path as it were. It was the one thing they could never force him to do, regardless of the consequences. Besides, if I’m not there, and the Soldier was to be triggered again, I’m your only hope. He’ll listen to me, regardless of who triggered him. But if I’m not there, he only listens to the handler. Is that a risk you want to take?”

“She’s right, Steve. He tried to take you down at the headquarters. She stopped him.” Sam agreed.

“Huh, there’s something I never thought I’d hear. Sam Wilson agrees with little ‘ole me.” I smirked.

“Don’t get used to it, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” I growled.

“Fine. But we’re going to need transportation.” Steve looked to me for an answer.

Chapter 14  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Arriving in the training room, I put my headphones in and start my music. I have pent-up frustration, and I need to hit something. Repeatedly.

After taping my hands, I decide the best way not to kill anyone would be to focus on the bags.

Hit after hit, I watch the bag sway slightly. The longer I work, the more aggressive I get. My mind racing, almost drowning out the sound of the music in my ears.

Why does he have to look so damn perfect? Why can’t I get him out of my damn head? Why does he have to be the last person I think about each night? Let alone the first one to cross my mind in the mornings. Maybe I should take a vacation? A weekend away from this damn building? Yea, like Tony, would let you take a vacation after the last time you left. I guess you got a point there. He’d send someone to keep an eye on me. Maybe.

I had completely lost track of time. That is until Steve comes in and taps me on the shoulder.

I turn and look at him, giving a half-assed smile. I continue with the bag, finishing the combination of strikes I had started. With one final hit, the bag bursts and falls from its chain.

I take my headphones off and set my phone aside. Covered in sweat, I grab a towel and wipe my face off.

“Huh. And here I thought I was the only one who did that.” He walks over and grabs a new bag as if it were nothing, hooking it up before turning his attention back to me.

“Yea, well, it’s amazing what I can do when I’m…” I let my voice trail off, not wanting to say the wrong thing.

“Look, Marena, about Bucky…”

My eyes widen ever so slightly as I look up at him. “What about him?”

“He knows most of his past by now. He knows some of the things that Hydra made him do. But we could only fill him in on so much. None of us were there with him during any of it; all we had to go off was the information we knew and the details he could remember from his nightmares. It was like putting together a puzzle without being able to see the final picture. The only constant he ever sees, though, is you.”

He pauses, trying to read my reactions to his words.

“But this history you two have,” he takes a step toward where I stand. “You’re the only one who really knows anything about it.”

“Yea, well, maybe that’s for the best.” I turn to walk away.

“I’m not so sure,” he grabs my arm as I try to pass. “I know you still have feelings for him, I saw that the last time you helped us, and every time you lock eyes with him since you’ve been back.”

“Just drop it, okay?” I growl, pulling my arm free of his hand.

“Want to talk about it?” His voice is calm, comforting, even pleading.

“Steve, I know you want to help and all, and I appreciate it. But, this--this is something that I’d rather not bring up. It’s something I have tried to forget but can’t.” I start to make my way toward the door yet again.

“Maybe if you talk to someone about it? Get it off your chest and give yourself a chance to -?”

“You know, maybe a part of me doesn’t want to forget it?” I turn back to face him. “Maybe a part of me wishes that the Soldier was still here? The Bucky I knew, rather than the one you know. I know what he’s gone through; I know what he’s done. Here’s the thing, though, Steve…”

I watch as he takes a small step back as if recoiling from my words. “I know how to bring the Soldier back. But I’m smarter than that. I know what it would do. Bringing him back would destroy the Bucky that you know now. I can’t have my Soldier - my Bucky - back. I’ve accepted that. But to be around the new Bucky? -”

Steve could read the emotion in my eyes, despite my efforts to hide it. He knows I still feel something for Bucky, but he doesn’t understand why I ran off and avoided him. He doesn’t know what I don’t want Bucky to remember.

“Marena, talk to me. Please, give me something. I can’t keep watching you tiptoe around here like you’re afraid to trigger some bomb. The Soldier and Bucky are two sides to the same man, so what is so bad about him knowing you two were in love?.”

My eyes drop to the floor. Immediately Steve knows he has hit a mark. As he takes a step closer, I take a step back. He stops as soon as I feel my back hit the wall.

“Look,” my voice was weaker than I had wanted - feeling oddly vulnerable having this conversation. “It’s not that I mind him knowing about us, Steve; not that I’d call what we had love per se. But I couldn’t live with myself if he remembered what I caused him.”

A part of me knows Steve is right. Getting the words out would probably be for the best. It is just a matter of convincing myself of that.

“You know he would forgive you, Petrova.” He tries to take a few steps closer.

“I don’t deserve it, Steve. Trying to make your Bucky understand the things that happened when he was my Bucky is impossible. Despite what you say, they are two different people. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to see him around every day and yet not have him around? Does that even make sense?”

“So take the time to get to know this Bucky. Fall in love with him all over again.”

Hearing those final words, I look up at Steve with stone-cold eyes. After what I did to him, I could never ask Bucky to accept me the same way the Soldier did.

Putting his hands up in defense, he offers a small smile and takes a couple of steps back.

“Sorry. You know you’ll have to tell him eventually, though, right?”

“Says who? I’ve been doing just fine as it is.” I quip.

“Have you though? He knows you, Marena. He knows something is missing from his memories that include you. There’s a reason he feels comfortable around you, feels safe around you. He just doesn’t know why. And do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to lie to my friends, let alone my best friend, about what I know?”

“I got it. But I can’t tell him, Steve. Maybe I can fill him in on a few things, but not - that.”

“Then let me ask you this. Are you going to be able to stay here? Be able to fight alongside him? Without your feelings completely taking over?”

My voice is suddenly wholly void of emotion. “A mission is a mission, Captain. You know me, the mission comes before anything else.”

“Good. Because he’s coming to train with us.” He nods toward the door as it opens.

Great. Thanks, Captain dumbass.

Bucky walks up to Steve as I stay back against the wall. He has his back to me, and the two of them are whispering.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“She said herself if she trained with anyone else, she’d hurt them. She can’t hurt us as easily, so we’re the best bet.”

“You know I can hear you both, right?” Bucky turns and looks at me, slightly confused, as I raise my brow, looking between the two.

Steve knows I have enhanced hearing, just as they do, but Bucky doesn’t know my secret. Or at least, doesn’t remember it.

Steve slaps Bucky on the shoulder and smiles before walking toward me again.

“You’re going to work with Buck first. I’ll watch and offer pointers.” He says smugly.

“Really?” I whisper once he is close enough, being sure to keep my volume low enough that I know Bucky won’t hear.

“Yes, really. You won’t act on your own, so I’m giving you a chance. I love you, Marena, but something has to give here.” He whispers back, keeping his volume low as well.

“Fine,” I growl in reply as I push off the wall, walking into the middle of the room, waiting, bouncing a little on the balls of my feet. As he approaches, we each take up a simple forward stance.

“Don’t worry. I’ll go easy on you, princess.” He smirks a little.

“Don’t call me that,” I growl in reply. “And don’t worry about going easy. Я могу справиться с этим Солдат (I can handle this Soldier).” His eyes widen a little.

Catching him off guard, I take full advantage. Grabbing his shoulders, I quickly wrap my leg around his. Planting my foot behind his and pushing him to the ground.

As soon as he is flat on his back, I straddle his chest -pressing my forearm against his throat. Not hard, but enough for him to take notice.

Leaning down next to his head, I whisper into his ear. “Возможно, мне нужно поблагодарить его за эту небольшую сессию. (Perhaps I need to thank him for this short session.)” I move so I can see his eyes, smiling as I continue. “Кажется, вы немного из практики. (It seems you are a bit out of practice.)”

Sitting up, I set my hands flat on his chest. He looks up at me with utter confusion, unsure how someone so small can take him down so quickly. With a wink, I push myself off of him and back to a standing position.

Bucky rolls to his side and makes his way to his feet again. Glancing over, I see Steve smiling at the encounter.

As we each take up our stance again, I can tell I will not be able to take him down as quickly a second time. I also know he won’t use his left arm as the dominant one for fear of hurting me. Which means I just have to focus on his right.

Lost in my thoughts, I nearly lost all focus. Luckily, I was aware enough to see his hand coming at my face from my peripherals. Ducking, I reach for his shoulders again, this time pulling myself toward him.

With a well-placed knee to the stomach, I have him doubled over in front of me. Wasting little time, I use my upper body strength to push myself up with his shoulders.

Swinging my leg up and over, I settle myself on his upper back, wrapping my arm around his head, tucking it under his chin, and pressing against his neck again. Using my other to cinch it into place.

I wrap my legs around his midsection and squeeze my thighs together against him as hard as I can.

Bucky tries to stand up, reaching his arms behind him to try to grab at me. When that doesn’t work, he attempts to pry my legs from around him; he lowers himself to one knee.

He is fading, soon using his arm to keep himself somewhat upright. Watching his friend slowly sink to the floor, Steve finally interjects.

“Alright, Petrova. You made your point. Let him go.”

“Always a killjoy, Rogers.” I smile as I release my arms.

Bucky gasps for air as I step down to the floor. Once I was entirely off of him, he lays on his back, coughing a little, staring at the ceiling. I tower over his form, looking down into his eyes, and I smile.

“Я сказал тебе, что смогу справиться с тобой, Солдат. (I told you that I can deal with you, Soldier.)” I shake my head a little, holding back a laugh. “В следующий раз не сдерживайся только потому, что я женщина. Я обещаю, что не сломаюсь. (Next time, do not hold back just because I'm a woman. I promise I won’t break.)”

Walking over to the bags, I grab my phone and skip out of the room. Smirking to myself as I hear Bucky's comment just before the door clicks shut behind me. “She’s a feisty one. I like her.”

Alright, Captain, you win this round.

Chapter 13  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 11

Chapter 10

*Flash Back Chapter*

As everyone sat around the large table, arguing over the right thing to do, I slid my chair back and stood up, walking toward the door quietly.

“Where exactly are you off to?” Tony’s voice rang out over everyone else.

“This meeting has nothing to do with me, Stark,” I said, turning back toward the table where he sat. “I’m not an Avenger. I’m just some ‘hired help’ when you need it.”

“That’s not true, Petrova. You’re as much a part -” Steve tried before I cut him off.

“No, Rogers. I’m not. Not because you all don’t accept me or some bullshit like that. I’m not an Avenger because I don’t want to be. I never did. That was my deal with Fury from the start; I’d help, that’s it.”

“So your solution is to run off and hide instead of staying and doing the right thing?” Tony stood from his seat and started walking toward me.

“Doing what’s right? You and Steve fought side by side to save countless lives, and you two can’t decide what the ‘right thing’ to do is!” I stood my ground as he came face to face with me. Lowering my voice back to a reasonable volume, “Besides, who said I was running off? I just said I didn’t need to be here for this meeting.”

“It’s simple, Petrova. Either sign the paper or don’t.”

“You’re right, Stark; it is simple. I don’t have to sign a damn thing because it's for the Avengers.” I turned back around and started for the door again.

“You still need to pick a side, Marena. I need to know where your allegiance is.” Tony’s statement caught me off guard.

My allegiance? Could he seriously be asking me that? How could I ever choose between the only family I’d known outside of Hydra?

“Sign the damn paper or don’t Stark; it won’t change my view of you or anyone else. My allegiance to any, and all, of you, will never falter.”

“Whose side are you on!?” He yelled as I stepped through the doorway - his voice conveying his frustration.

“I’m not picking sides! If you want to sort this out, do it yourself; I’m not your goddamn mother!”

After hearing about what had happened in Vienna, I made my way to Berlin.

Tony may have still been upset with me over never choosing a side directly, but he wasn’t angry enough to cut me out completely. I joined him in the headquarters building and watched the monitors as they brought in the three men.

Tony tried one last time to convince Steve to sign the Accords, but he stood fast in his ways and refused. I’ll give the Captain credit; you can’t force the man to do anything.

Making my way into the room that Steve and Sam were in, I watched the monitors. I didn’t notice Sharon had walked in until she turned the sound on so we could hear what was said.

“Why is Barnes alone in there?” I asked nervously.

“He’s fine, Marena. He’s with a doctor.” Steve replied before turning his attention away from the monitors.

Steve picked up the released photo — carrying on some conversation with Sam and Sharon. I was too focused on what the Doctor was saying to pay any attention, though.

That was when I heard a line from the man that I knew meant nothing good. “… Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.”

“Shit.” I breathed out.

“What?” Steve asked innocently, looking back in my direction.

As I ran from the room, the monitors throughout the building went dark. I could hear Steve and Sam behind me, with Steve calling out to tell me where to go. Taking off and pulling even farther ahead of the two men, I made my way to Bucky.

Just as I reached the hallway and took my final turn, I heard a crash. Then silence. Looking into the room, I watched as Bucky stood slowly, his face blank.

“Солдат? (Soldier?)” I heard the Doctor ask.

“я готов отвечать. (I'm ready to answer.)”

Damn it.

“Mission report. December 16, 1991.” He requested.

I walked back down to the end of the hallway, sure that Steve and Sam weren’t far behind. When they appeared in front of me, both at a dead sprint with Sam not nearly as far back as one would think, I did my best to stop them.

“STOP!” I called out, the two of them stopping just shy of where I stood, “you two need to stay out here.”

“What do you mean? We need to get in there and stop Bucky before he hurts that Doctor!” Steve tried to push past, but I grabbed his arm, holding him back briefly.

“No - you need to stay out here and listen to me for once! Trying to go in and do anything right now is not a smart move. You’ll get hurt, and I’m not just saying that to give some cliche vibe here.”

“He cut the power, he got Bucky alone, we can hear the commotion - we’re going in, Petrova,” Sam stepped around me and started for the room.

“We need to help, Marena. Now move!” Steve yelled as he pulled from my grip.

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged. I stood back and watched as they ran into the room where the Doctor and Bucky were. I heard some muffled voices but stayed where I was. If they didn’t want to listen, why should I offer any help?

I watched as the Soldier kicked Steve out into the hallway and against the elevator doors.

“I tried to warn you, Steve,” I muttered, just loud enough for him to hear.

The Soldier’s hand hit the doors, denting them. He pulled back and tried to strike Steve directly this time. As Steve tried to push back against Bucky, I spoke up.

“Солдат! Стоп! (Soldier! Stop!)” I yelled.

He kept the pressure against Steve’s hands but looked in my direction. Having not noticed me prior, I saw the flicker in his eyes as it clicked, like so many times before, the battle that waged within his mind when we were together. The mission would win out over the heart each time.

“Это моя миссия. Я должен выполнить свою миссию! Я больше не потерплю проиграю! (This is my mission. I must fulfill my mission! I will not fail anymore!)”

I sighed. “Гидра дала мне эту миссию. Мое искупление. А теперь остановись. (Hydra gave me this mission. My redemption. Now stop.) ”

“Невозможно! Они никогда не позволили бы вам вернуться! (Impossible! They would never let you return!)”

He pulled back and hit the doors again, instead of Rogers, breaking them open and inward, sending Steve through and down toward the ground below. The Soldier watched him fall for a moment before glancing back at me and stepping to where I was.

He placed two fingers under my chin using his left hand and lifted my head, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I felt my body involuntarily tense up under his touch, knowing his mission against me.

“Я не причиню тебе вреда, Тень. Но не лгите мне снова. (I won't hurt you, Shadow. But do not lie to me again.)” He spoke softly, though his voice was still demanding authority.

“Это не миссия, Солдат. Этот обработчик не на нашей стороне. Вы должны мне поверить. (This is not a mission, Soldier. This handler is not on our side. You must believe me.)”

“Я верю тебе. Но не пытайтесь меня остановить. (I believe you. But do not try to stop me.)”

Without another word, he turned and ran off down the hall.

As much as I wanted to go after him, I had more pressing matters to deal with first.

I got Sam back on his feet, and we went back to the main level, combating S.H.I.E.L.D/Hydra agents along the way.

It was a complete disaster. The agents were trying to evacuate the building while simultaneously trying to stop the Winter Soldier. I briefly took my time, doing my best to help the civilians get out while avoiding the chaos.

Seeing Tony and Nat on the floor, I knew I had to try to find the Soldier. I took off for the roof, knowing he goes for his easiest escape route.

Bursting through the doors, I saw Steve. He was holding onto a rail on the building as well as the leg of a helicopter. Bucky turned the chopper quickly and dropped it into the building. He effectively took out his chance of leaving by destroying the aircraft - almost taking out Steve in the process.

I watched in horror as Steve pushed the machine off the building, down into the water below.

Running to the edge, I watch the two men emerge as Steve pulls Bucky to safety.

I stood in the adjacent room, my back against the wall as Steve secured Bucky’s arm in the vice. He left Sam in the room with Bucky to watch him and made his way to where I was.

“What happened back there?” Steve questioned. I knew he was trying to stay calm, but he was frustrated.

“You mean when I saved your life?” I chuckled nervously.

“Marena…”

“Fine. Bucky and I -” I tried to find the right way to tell him what he wanted to know - what he needed to know - without giving away everything anyway. “We used to work together. We, uh, did most of our missions together.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “You were part of Hydra?” He spoke quietly.

“At one point, yes. I ran off a few years ago. I didn’t have a choice, Steve. I was like Natasha in that regard.”

“Okay, well, ignoring that fact, for now, I thought the Winter Soldier worked alone?” He looked at me, confused.

“There’s more to it than that. Certain missions, yes. But any mission I needed to go on, he likely went too. The Soldier, I mean Bucky, he -- he protected me.” I sighed heavily, looking down at the floor. “When he got free and went into hiding, he still trusted me. Despite what happened between him and me, and despite his past orders, he knew I wouldn’t harm him. He knew I’d protect him.”

“We looked for him for two years.” Steve stepped closer, looking straight into my eyes as if he was trying to burn a hole through me. “You knew that whole time, didn’t you?”

“Not the whole time. But most of it, yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was protecting him, Steve! Just like you would have done! Look, I’m sorry, okay? But I had to. I was the only person he trusted. The only person he really knew.”

I leaned my back against the wall and dropped to the floor. My arms were resting on my knees; I looked up at Steve.

“Despite the mental state he is in, he remembers me. The Winter Soldier knows who I am and knows I can be trusted and followed because we worked together for so long. Bucky knows that I have never betrayed him or the Soldier. It’s more a feeling that he remembers, I guess, than knowing who I am; he knows there was something that caused the Soldier's programing to slip, he just -”

I hang my head a little, not sure how to phrase it, so it makes sense to him, and not ready to admit everything just yet.

“We could have helped keep him safe, Petrova.” Steve knelt in front of me.

“Could you? Look at everything that’s been going on in the last two years. Hell, look at where we are now?”

I could see the hurt in Steve’s eyes and tried to help the situation as best I could. “I know you mean well, Rogers, but I kept him safe just fine. No incidents, no accidents. I kept him calm when he needed it and kept him hidden from those that wanted to find him. I was his best option, and he knew it.”

Steve just nodded, realizing I was right.

Chapter 12  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314​

Finding Home Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Six - painstakingly - long - months.

That’s how long I’ve been back in the Avengers’ Tower; how long I've been trying desperately to suppress my memories. My feelings - if you can call them that. I am still a bit unsure myself.

Six months of being around James Barnes. Six months of tossing around the idea of if I should or shouldn't just confess; tell him everything. Rather than continue watching each of us tiptoe around the other.

He wasn’t my Soldier anymore. I knew that. Bucky is the one I need to get to know.

Maybe, if I fall for Bucky, everything will be okay? Maybe, if I fall for Bucky, I can feel genuinely at home once again.

Can I have all that back, though? Will it be the same as it was with the Soldier? Do I even want to risk it? There is so much that can go wrong, but does it outweigh all the things that can go right?

Wandering around the kitchen early one morning, talking calmly to myself, I make some coffee. Being the first one awake has its advantages.

I am so enthralled in my own world that I don’t notice Natasha has walked into the kitchen and taken a seat. “Morning,” she greets.

“Mm,” I hum back, my voice low. “Morning.”  

I am frustrated with things. Feelings, thoughts, memories of my own; this puts me in a mood - not a good mood, not a bad mood, just - a mood.

“You’re using your calm voice today. Who’s getting killed?” I can all but hear the smirk on her face.

I turn around and look at her, returning her look with a devilish smirk of my own, a look she knows all too well. Leaning back against the counter, I cross my arms across my chest.

“I need to scream,” I sigh. “Or kill someone. I’m leaning towards killing.” I tilt my head in mock thought, still speaking in a calm, almost reassuring tone.

“No one is killing anyone…” I groan as Steve’s voice booms through the almost empty room.

“Always a killjoy, huh, Rogers?” I turn back toward the counter and my coffee.

“Only when it comes to you, Petrova,” he says with a playful smile.

“Why ya always gotta ruin my fun? Can’t you ruin Stark’s day some time?”

He walks up next to me, pulling me into his side, one arm wrapped around my shoulders.

“Nope.” He kisses my hair gently. “It’s surprisingly more fun to ruin your day, doll.”

I let out a quiet sigh as he releases me and walks toward where Natasha is seated.

“Go work it off with some training if you need to,” he suggests with a shrug.

“I don’t think that’s a safe plan there, Captain Oblivious,” I chuckle, primarily to myself, not bothering to turn around.

He raises an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because she’s using her calm voice,” Nat interjects with a slight giggle.

I turn to face the pair, resting my back against the counter again, this time my cup in my hands.

“Unless I’m training with you,” I take a slow sip of the hot liquid in my hands before mumbling into the cup, “or possibly Barnes -” I take another drink before looking back at Steve, “there’s a good likelihood that I could seriously hurt whoever I train with.”

Steve smirks. “I’m sure we could arrange something, Marena.”

I try to smile in return, but my eyes catch Bucky making his way into the room.

Seeing my expression shift, Natasha follows my gaze. Looking back at me, she offers a sympathetic smile.

“I think I’m gonna try to… I don’t know. Work out or something.”

I set my cup in the sink, not bothering to finish it. I turn on my heels and quickly make my way toward the elevator.

It is so exhausting and frustrating, trying to hold myself from falling for him all over again. Is that really what I’m doing? He’s not even the man I fell for in the first place. Why am I having this conversation? Oh, yeah, it’s in my head. Get it together, Marena! Come on! I mean, he’s the same person, right? Don’t you deserve to be happy!? But I am happy, aren’t I? I mean, I don’t need him to be satisfied, right? But God knows it wouldn’t hurt. To feel those lips, those hands - being wrapped in those beautiful arms.

As I wait, I can hear bits and pieces of the other’s conversation.

“What’s with her?” Bucky’s voice breaks my thoughts.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should try to--” I hear Steve’s stool move across the floor as he stands up before Nat interrupts.

“Leave it, Steve. She’s just in a mood. She’ll be fine.”

Always my savior, even when you don’t know it, Младшая сестра (younger sister). I smiled to myself.

Stepping into the elevator, I turn just as the doors close. Catching a glimpse of Bucky, I could have sworn I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes.

Not physical pain; more emotional distress. As if he thought he’d done something wrong to cause me to run off as I did.

Chapter 11  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 9

Chapter 8 *Flash Back Chapter*

For eight years, I spent the vast majority of my time with the potential Black Widows. Classes, training, meals - all spent with the deadly young women.

Though I wasn’t ‘one of them’ in the sense of ever becoming a Widow, their training was essential to my own. Or so they told me.

When not training with the girls, I would be with the Hydra agents and soldiers, such as Elliot Kohl, George Fistal, Hank Johnson, and Ralph Sanzetti. There were others, but their names escape me. Except for eating, there wasn’t a waking moment that I wasn’t training in some way, shape, or form.

As far as von Strucker was concerned, I was destined to be the perfect asset. The perfect soldier.

When I completed the Black Widow program’s training, the Hydra agents took me to a different facility.

I was poked, prodded, and hooked up to too many machines to count, all on my first night there. They injected me with a substance, a substance that was causing me an ungodly amount of pain. Days after the injection, once the pain had finally subsided, I started noticing the changes.

I could hear conversations from several rooms away. Even those in the same room whispering, I could make out their conversations as clear as if they were speaking normally.

My strength was to a point where I could break anything I came in contact with if I wasn’t careful, including bending metal, destroying bricks, and shattering bones with ease.

When in combat training, I had begun to injure anyone I was fighting. They took that opportunity to introduce me to my new ‘sparring partner’, so they called him.

Towering over my small frame, he didn’t question von Strucker when he told him to take me down. With stunning speed, his left metal arm extended towards my throat. With ease, I not only blocked the hand but wrenched it behind the Soldier’s back and took him to the floor. I could hear the plates of his arm whirling, trying desperately to get free from my grasp.

His shocked expression told me all I needed to know. I was no longer an ordinary soldier to Hydra. It didn't take long to put together that the substance they injected me with upon my arrival was none other than their new mixture of the super-soldier serum.

“Дорогой, ты преуспел. (Dear, you have succeeded.)” Von Strucker told me. “Тренировка почти завершена. Я горжусь вами. (The training is almost complete. I am proud of you.)”

“Спасибо, сэр. (Thank you, sir.)” I replied.

What I didn’t realize was that the last part of my training would be the toughest. Not only mentally but physically.

What they didn’t realize was that I would remember everything.

The agents spent the next few weeks triggering the darkness that had been implanted in me — each time, sending me out on short missions. Never anything significant, but rather just something to test my skills.

I quickly excelled in my tasks. Making it known early on that activation would not be necessary.

When sent out to test my stealth and my marksman abilities, they quickly discovered I no longer needed a sparring partner - a mentor - I had surpassed even his skill set.

As the months and years went by, Hydra sent me on missions. Usually, with the assistance of the Soldier.

They kept no record of my progress, my missions, my past training - me. This made it easier for me to infiltrate locations without being detected.

Triggering my dark side was not a necessity like it was for the Soldier. I was glad for this because it meant I was in complete control of what I was doing.

I could decide when to pull the trigger. I could choose when to let someone of no value go. I still had my training ingrained in my head and knew the consequences should I decide to deviate too far from the mission, but again, the choice was mine and not a forced response like the Soldier’s was.

As time went on and I spent more and more time with the Soldier on more extended missions, I began to notice small things about him. Changes when we were alone together versus when others from Hydra were around. Not that they would have noticed anyway.

His eyes were softer when we were alone. They weren’t as cold and void as when others were present; his body was more relaxed, muscles not nearly as tense.

On occasion, when Hydra sent us undercover alone, I would find myself lingering closer than need be to him. My hand resting on his when we would sit close, or my arms wrapped tightly around him when we were on his motorcycle.

When we would spend the nights together, I could feel his hesitation — causing me to take the initiative to move closer, pressing our forms together and draping his arm across my body.

I didn't know what this feeling was or why I desired to be close to the Soldier. Sure, I had read about love and what it was supposed to feel like, but this-this was something else, or at least I thought it was.

I knew what would happen should we get caught. A part of me was worried. But whatever this was that was surfacing for the Soldier far outweighed the consequences. Or so I thought.

Three years into my missions, Sanzetti made me an offer.

I was free to leave Hydra.

“Выбор за вами, Тень. Все, что вы должны сделать, это сказать слово, и вы свободны. (The choice is yours, Shadow. All you have to do is say a word, and you are free.)” He had said.

They never revealed why they offered me the chance, whether it was done as a test or for some other reason, but I declined.

I had the Soldier. I had a man who, despite having to hide whatever it was we had made me finally feel as if I was complete. As if Hydra had never removed pieces of who I was, who I could have been. As if I was never forced to become this - this monster.

How could I leave that? How could I walk away from the only feeling of home I had ever honestly felt?

I mentioned it to the Soldier. I told him what they offered.

“Моя королева, не оставайся только из-за меня. Я не стою твоей свободы. (My queen, don't stay just because of me. I am not worth your freedom.)”

“Я не останусь ради тебя, мой солдат. Я остаюсь для себя, для своего дома. (I will not stay for you, my soldier. I stay for myself, for my home.)”

Eleven years since the injection. Eleven years of doing everything they wanted me to do. Nine years of missions, six years with my Soldier, three years of hiding the truth.

Somehow - I’m still not sure how - Sanzetti found out our secret.

All I knew was that I was woken from my slumber and brought into a strange room. I watched as agents brought the Soldier in, placing him into the peculiar chair that was in front of me.

Sanzetti grabbed hold of both my arms, holding them behind my back in an attempt to restrain me. Von Strucker sauntered in as if everything was normal and just stared at me.

“Мы знаем правду, Тень. Вы знали последствия. (We know the truth, Shadow. You knew the consequences.)” His tone was cold, emotionless.

I watched the machine come to life. It was gripping the Soldier tight, leaning him back, his groans muffled by the guard in his mouth.

Two pieces of metal were forming to different areas on his head. I could do nothing but watch in horror as his body arched, and he tried desperately to scream - the pain on his face, and in his beautiful eyes as he strained to try to look at me, evident as the current surged through him.

Sanzetti held on with all his strength, forcing me to watch the events in front of me. I struggled, watching another surge go through my Soldier, but not to my full potential. I had been trained not to take out my agents, not to injure allies unless necessary.

“Ты посмотришь, принцесса. Пока мы берем твою память от головы солдата. (You look, princess. While we take your memory from the Soldier's head.)” Sanzetti said coldly.

Yet another pulse shot through the man in front of me. Wave, after wave, after wave of electricity pumping through him while they forced me to watch. I could take no more. I knew the risks of taking out another Hydra agent, but I could not watch the torture any longer. Knowing it was my fault that the Soldier was in this position. The pain he was enduring was my fault and mine alone.

I wrenched my arm free, balled my fist, and whipped around, catching Sanzetti in the face. Feeling the bone of his eye socket give under my fist, I knew he wouldn’t be a threat any longer.

Running from that room, I didn’t dare stop. I heard the heavy steps of agents following after me, but I knew better than they did that there was no chance of them catching me.

Once I had enough of a lead, I found a place to hide. I would need to wait for a change of guards to get off the compound grounds. All I could do was sit there and wallow in my thoughts.

I knew the consequences; I knew the protocol, but seeing one of the steps first hand, and being used on someone I had grown to care about more than myself, was nothing like I had expected.

It was too much. Which I’m sure was their goal. They would use that machine first, giving the Soldier’s mind a sort of ‘factory reset’ if you will.

From there, they’d make him fight. Sure, they’d call it training, or a test, a way to make sure he still retained his basic knowledge of how to combat an enemy, but they’d make him lose. They will use the others, the failed attempts, the only ones on their pay-roll that could take down the Soldier with ease. He wouldn’t stand a chance, but then - that’s the point.

Once they are sure he is back to being the robot they require, they would send him out on a new mission.

Von Strucker couldn’t bring himself to inflict all of that on me - no, not on his prized creation. Making me witness the start of the process, knowing what was to come - that was my punishment. Knowing it was because of me that the Soldier would endure all of that? Von Strucker was more than capable of inflicting that kind of mental pain on me.

I feel a droplet of liquid rolling down my cheek, wiping it away with my finger; I realize it is a tear. But why? There are no environmental causes for it, and I wasn’t squeezing my eyes shut to cause it to fall. Could I honestly be crying? Was I genuinely feeling a sort of sadness for what I had done? Being the cause of another's pain had never made me cry before. So why was now any different?

The first light of morning was peeking through the trees, which meant the guards were all inside. Now was my chance.

They may have offered me the chance to leave Hydra, but they could not permit escape. No - escape meant certain death.

I managed to stay hidden with ease. I knew Hydra wouldn’t give up until all options had been exhausted. What they forgot is that I was the best they had.

Hearing Hydra had given the Soldier a new task caused me to enter a state of heightened awareness. I knew he never failed a mission, but I hoped the glimpses of his former self would shine through in this instance.

You see - I was his new mission.

Hydra sent him to find me. To hunt me down and either return me to Hydra or kill me himself if necessary. No one escapes Hydra; no one escapes The Winter Soldier.

I took a calculated risk two months after learning he was on the move. Finding the Soldier alone in an abandoned cottage where he was hiding out as he searched for me, I waited in the shadows before approaching.

I knew the Soldier - my Soldier. And he knew me. There was no need to make my presence known.

“Ты знаешь мою миссию, Тень. Почему вы так себя предлагаете? (You know my mission, Shadow. Why do you offer yourself like this?)”

“Это не предложение, Солдат. Я знаю так же хорошо, как и они, что могу победить против тебя. Меня поражает, что они послали только вас, чтобы выполнить эту задачу. (This is not an offer, Soldier. I know as well as they do that I can defeat you. It amazes me that they sent you only to fulfill this task.)”

I watched his eyes narrow, considering my words.

“Это было мое решение. Я знаю вас, как они этого не делают. (It was my decision. I know you, as they do not.)”

“Эmо правда. Конечно, они никогда бы не подумали заглянуть в такую мирную страну. (This is true. Of course, they would never have thought of looking into such a peaceful country.)” I chuckled softly.

“Почему ты здесь? (Why are you here?)” He asked, clearly done with small talk.

“По моему собственному любопытству, я полагаю. (In my own curiosity, I suppose.)”

“Что ты имеешь в виду? (What do you mean?)”

“Вы все еще знаете меня, как вы знали меня? Или я для тебя теперь ничто? (Do you still know me as you knew me? Or am I nothing to you now?)”

“Ты моя миссия. Больше ничего. (You are my mission. Nothing else.)” His voice was cold.

“Тогда они преуспели. (Then they succeeded.)” I mumbled quietly.

“Если бы им это удалось полностью, Тень, я бы уже двинулся. Ты мой дом, и мне нелегко его разрушить. Предупреждаю, в следующий раз я без колебаний прикончу вас. (If they succeeded completely, Shadow, I would already be moving. You are my home and it is not easy for me to destroy it. I warn you, next time I will finish you off without hesitation.)”

“солдат Мне жаль. (Soldier. I’m sorry.)”

“Часть меня навсегда останется твоей, моя прекрасная тьма. (Part of me will always be yours, my beautiful darkness.)”

Without another word, I left that small, abandoned cottage. I glanced back only briefly.

A part of me knew that I would see the Soldier again. Whether he would still be my Soldier would be left to be seen, but I knew we’d meet again.

Chapter 10 - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314​

Finding Home Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Three weeks have passed since I returned to the Tower. Slowly but surely, things are getting back to normal. Mostly anyway.

Tony and Steve had talked to me about going on a couple of missions. Small as they were, it was their way of helping them to build trust in me again.

Of course, I agreed.

At first, I went solely with Steve or Tony. It was never anything significant, and most of the time, we didn’t even need much for weaponry. Regardless though, I welcomed it.

Anything is better than being stuck in the Tower.

After enough time, they allowed me to branch out from their company and work with others. I enjoy my missions with Wanda or Natalia, and though they didn’t happen often, I have my favorite adventures with Clint.

I am free to roam the Tower again, and Tony even lets me leave once in a while. As much as I was loving being on house arrest, I needed my freedom.

Tony and I’s relationship is even slowly getting back to what it used to be. He and I have a form of our very own language. Our own understanding, if you will.

Stark isn’t like the others in certain respects. That is what draws us to each other, I think. We see enough of the other in ourselves. He understands me when no one else does. We can sit in complete silence and somehow make the other feel better about whatever has been bothering them.

Wanda and I hit it off pretty easy; having another girl around other than Nat gives us a perfect middle person to settle our arguments. She is younger than us but fits in wonderfully with our shenanigans.

Of course, Sam is happy to have me back, though he’d never fully admit it. He finally has a running partner that doesn’t out lap him every morning. Sure, I can, but why overwork myself when I don’t need to?

Bucky? Well, he is still trying to figure things out about me. Trying to figure out what our history had been.

I’d heard him try to talk to Steve about me one morning. Hoping something he knew could clue him in on our past. Unfortunately for Bucky, Steve had promised not to reveal anything specific about my history with him.

Rogers doesn’t know everything. Though after my encounter with Bucky before I had run off the last time, he knows enough. I stood in the shadows and listened to them silently.

“What was she like when she was here before?” He asked.

“She was a good asset. Never missed a target and had no trouble taking down an enemy in close combat. She was smart, strong, detached at times, but always one to be counted on when needed.” Steve replied. “She wasn’t someone to mess with, but to be honest, we didn’t know much about her.”

“So where did she come from? What’s her story?” Buck questioned.

“Well, from what she told me before, she was trained in the same place as Natasha, just under a different program.”

“So she’s not a Black Widow?” Bucky was visibly confused.

“No. If anything, with Hydra, she was worse than the Widows.”

Bucky nods, taking in the new information, even if it isn’t much.

“Other than that, the only thing I know is that she can control the Winter Soldier somehow. When that doctor triggered that part of you, she was able to get through to you, so you didn’t do worse damage.”

“But, I thought only other Hydra agents could control that-” his eyes went blank, almost zoning out.

Steve cut him off, “I don’t know all the details Bucky, no one does. But somehow, she could get through. We didn’t question it.” 

Nice save, Cap, nice save, I thought to myself as I walked back to my room

Two short months after returning, it appears everything is finally back as normal as I could expect - at least with the majority of the people in the Tower and on the team.

Tony is allowing me to go on complete missions again. He has accepted that there are secrets I am going to keep, whether he likes it or not, but I had opened up enough to gain his trust back, and that was all that mattered for now.

Nat and I are close as ever. I have my sister back, and we finally get to experience what we accepted as everyday life like anyone else. We are safe; we have what could amount to a family and a place to call home. We can't ask for more. Not to mention we have Wanda, who falls in perfectly with the two of us. Another sister we can work to mold - like any good older sibling does.

Clint comes and goes as often as he can, spending much-needed time with his family. His kids need their father, and the farm always has things to keep him busy - but we know he will be there to help at the drop of a dime when we need him.

Steve is trying, subtly, to get me to open up to Bucky and tell him the truth. But that’s not possible right now. Just because he doesn’t know our history doesn’t mean that I don't remember. The last thing I need is those memories returning right now.

The Tower is becoming home again. The regret I feel is still looming, but I suppose I shouldn't complain. My life is falling back into place.

Chapter 9  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314​

Finding Home Chapter 7

Chapter 6

*Flashback Chapter*

Walking along the paths between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument, I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

All these people, oblivious to the crap that goes on around them, most of them so innocent, so - naive.

I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see a somewhat unexpected name across the screen.

“Что это? (What is it?)”

I smiled to myself as a few people in earshot send a sideways glance my way, reminding me how unaccustomed they are to hearing Russian spoken out loud — the language invoking a mild subconscious fear in them.

“Fury is dead. I need your help.” Her voice was surprisingly calm for the news she was sharing.

“Кто…? (Who…?)”

“In person. Where are you?”

Always straight to the point. Some things never change.

“Памятники. (Monuments.)”

“Stay there. I’ll find you. Give me ten minutes.”

No goodbye, no nothing; just the line going dead.

I found a place to sit near the Lincoln Memorial. Quiet enough for her and I to talk but relatively close to the commotion to avoid any suspicions.

It didn’t take long before I felt her body bump into mine as she sat next to me, causing me to look in her direction. Her eyes were cold. I knew what Fury meant to her.

As a shadow draped over us, I looked up to see what was causing it — finding a broad-shouldered, innocent-looking man towering over us. I couldn’t help but smile up at Steve.

“He’s back, Marena.” Her tone was stoic, a way of saving face perhaps, but I knew my sister well enough; a mix of emotions - vulnerability, hostility, an overall sense of fear - all coursing through her at once.

I looked back at her from Steve, my features clearly showing my confusion. “Who’s back, Natalia?”

“Three slugs, no rifling, Soviet-made? And Rogers--” she glanced up at the man in front of us “--said he was fast, strong and had a metal arm.” He nodded, and she focused back on me. “You know there’s only one person who fits that description.”

I closed my eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Nat was right. There was only one person - one man - who fit that description.

“What do you expect me to do about it?”

“I want - I need an extra set of hands that I know I can trust.”

“You have a super-soldier on your side.” I nodded toward Rogers. “What more could I offer?”

“You’re the only one that knows how to find him,” she said flatly.

I looked between her and Steve. His eyes had widened ever so slightly while hers stayed locked on me. She was right, but the real question was, did I want to.

“Marena, please? I never ask for anything.” She looked at me with pleading eyes.

“Fine.” I sighed. “Just, don’t do--” I waved my hand in front of her face smiling “--that look again.”

“Deal.” She smiled in return.

“But I do this my way. Got it?”

“Within reason,” she said as she stood up.

“Natalia? I’m not under S.H.I.E.L.D. I’m not under anyone. I do this my way, or I walk.”

“Fine. Just don’t kill anyone.” She laughed as she started walking back toward her car.

“No promises.” I smiled, following close behind, with Rogers trailing behind me.

Riding in a car with four other grown adults is not my idea of a fun afternoon. Here I am, though, stuck in the back seat with Natasha and Sitwell, heading toward the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters.

“Insight’s launching in sixteen hours; we’re cutting it a bit close here,” Natasha offered.

“I know,” Steve stated. “We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the Helicarriers directly.”

“What?! Are you crazy? That’s a terrible, terrible idea,” Sitwell complained.

Just then, there was a thud above us. The window next to Sitwell shattered, and he was pulled through.

“Guess you didn’t need me to find him after all,” I quipped. Steve and Nat both looked at me with a mix of question and terror in their eyes.

I hear the thud on the roof again and pull Natasha forward just enough that the first shot misses her. There was so much happening in such a short period.

“Наталья! (Natalia!)” I yelled through the commotion. She nodded, already in the process of jumping forward and into Steve’s lap. Pulling him forward with her, shielding him, I saw some of the stuffing from his headrest fly into the air. She then kicked Sam out of the way as another shot went through his headrest.

Steve grabbed the emergency brake, causing the car to come to a squealing stop. The figure on the top of the car fell to the street, sliding backward with his left hand digging into the road beneath him, causing a flurry of sparks.

I watched as the figure slowly rose to his feet, the sun reflecting off his arm.

“Some things never change, I guess,” I mumbled, more to myself than anything.

Opening the door, I quickly jumped out and made my way past the speeding cars to the side of the road.

I watched in slight shock as a large SUV collided with the car and pushed them toward the Soldier. He never flinched, just watched as it forced the vehicle along. He managed to jump back onto the vehicle with little effort, reaching through the windshield and ripping the steering wheel out.

I could do nothing but run along the side after them all. I watched as shots were fired toward the Soldier again, but he just jumped onto the vehicle behind them. 

Before I knew what was happening, the car was in the air, and I could see my three companions sliding along the road.

As I ran toward the trio, I caught a glimpse as the Soldier jumped off the SUV, another agent handing him a grenade launcher as he went. Reaching the others, I quickly grabbed Sam and pulled him behind a stopped vehicle.

The Soldier fired toward the other two. Steve pushed Natasha toward where Sam and I had gone and got his shield up just in time to cover himself, but the force of the blast knocked him back and off the bridge.

The rest of the agents turned their attention to the three of us — all firing in our direction. We split up and took cover where we could find it. Natasha was attempting to shoot back.

‘Stupid woman,’ I thought to myself.

Forced to jump to another bridge before jumping to the street below, Natasha stayed one step ahead of the enemy, though barely. Sam stayed on the bridge, though I had no idea where he had run off to, and I found my way down to the road below just before witnessing Nat take her leap.

I watched her fire at the Soldier - hitting him somewhere, causing him to go down for a moment.

“Good going, Nat. Piss off the man shooting at you,” I whispered to myself.

When he came back up, his goggles were off, and I could see the hard, determined look in his eyes.

He opened fire below, not taking clear aim. Natasha fired back in response until she was out of ammunition. Once she found an opening, she took off running.

Watching, calculating, I was unsure how I would be of any help without being seen. The Soldier jumped down from the bridge, landing on a car below. His sight set, he took off after her.

I followed behind him. Far enough that he wouldn’t notice, but close enough to help Nat if the need arose.

She just wanted me to find him; engaging him was never in the plan.

When I saw her hit by the Soldier’s shot, I knew I needed to do something. He stood on the car, aiming at her again. I knew I would regret it, but I ran for Natasha.

There was no way I would allow him to take my friend, my sister, from me.

Mission or not.

“Солдат! Стоп! (Soldier! Stop!)” My voice drew his attention to me.

As our gaze met for a brief moment, I saw his eyes soften ever so slightly, just like every time before, but before he could respond, Steve came running toward him. The two locked in battle as I stayed with Nat putting pressure on her shoulder to try to slow the bleeding.

I stood up, just in time to see the Soldier stand and face Steve without his face mask. “Черт возьми, (Damn it,)” I mumbled.

“Bucky?” Steve questioned, completely in shock.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He replied coldly, lifting yet another gun and aiming it at Steve.

I need to make sure Natasha doesn’t call me for help anymore.

I’m an assassin — a sniper. I don’t do well being on the receiving end of a barrage of bullets.

Still, here I am, helping my little sister. Getting shot at, getting arrested, escaping, and now finding myself in some hidden bunker thing, holding her up because she had to go and get herself shot.

‘Breathe, Marena. It’s not her fault.’ I tried to tell myself. I’m not cut out for this hero stuff. Not in the slightest. Though I will say, the company isn’t bad.

Standing with the rest of the group, having been escorted through a maze of hallways to what appeared to be an underground hospital room, I take in their shocked expressions seeing Fury sitting on his bed. Though, I’m indifferent to the situation.

“Petrova. Nice of you to join us,” he deadpanned, his sarcastic tone and neutral face not conveying the sincerity I could innately read.

“I was only here because she thought you were dead, Nick. It seems clear to me that something got lost in the communications.”

“They can’t kill you if you’re already dead. Right?”

“Since I know Natalia is in good hands, I’ll be taking my leave now.” I turn to walk out.

“Petrova,” he snapped, but I could hear the plea to come. “S.H.I.E.L.D has been compromised. I’m sure by now you figured that out. You also know they are going to use him to stop any of our attempts to stop them.” Steve reached out and held my arm, stopping me from leaving the room as Fury spoke. “We need your help.” Fury’s voice strained, I could tell. He didn’t like asking for help, especially from me.

“I’m not talking to him, Nick.” I pulled my arm free from Steve’s grasp and turned back to face Fury. “I saw his eyes when Steve said his name. Rogers will be more than enough -”

“I don’t want Rogers to handle him. I want you to,” he retorted as if he wasn’t wounded and in hiding. As if he were in his helicarriers, dishing out orders.

“And I said no,” I said coldly. “I’m not confronting him, and that’s the end of it, Nick.”

“Marena, you are the only one that can—”

“No.” I interrupted him with a glare.

“Сестра (Sister), please,” Nat tried. I could hear the slight lilt of manipulation on her tongue, even in her sincerity. “If you can help us here and take down the Winter Soldier? I mean, I’m down an arm and—”

“It’s not happening,” I interrupted, my voice low and gentle. Always gentle with her. “So drop it.” I looked between Fury and Natasha, “Both of you.”

“If you’re the only one that can help us, why don't you?” Steve interjected.

“I’m not the only one,” I rebuked with a noncommittal shake of my head. “You can handle him just fine, Rogers.”

“It could take too long, Petrova. You know that.” Nick said, his voice hard and cold despite the strain as he tried to stand from the bed.

“I have faith in your friends, Nick,” I said calmly as if my tone would persuade him not to get up. He should rest. “You don’t need me. You want me to do it out of convenience. But who’s to say he’d listen to me?”

“It’s worth the try,” he calmly retorted.

“I saw how he looked at you, Marena,” Nat tried again. “At the very least, you could distract him?”

“Absolutely not,” I said with a mocking laugh. “The Soldier won’t get distracted; he’ll just get pissed and try to take me out too.”

“You know that’s not true, Petrova,” Fury argued quietly.

“And you don’t know the Winter Soldier.” I snapped in response. “Nothing can keep him from finishing a mission, even that one.”

I finally pushed past Steve and Sam and made my way out of the room, leaving most of the occupants confused by my sentence. Fury was the only one offering a sympathetic gaze - his version of it anyway - as I left.

Rounding the corner, I continued on a few paces before my feet became so heavy that I had to stop. Leaning against the wall, taking a few deep breaths, I tried to refocus and take in everything that had happened throughout the day. ‘This is too much. I didn’t sign up for this.’

Hearing footsteps quickly following after me, I stood up and straightened myself out as if the emotional walls I had spent so long perfecting weren’t crumbling down. It was Steve that rounded the corner, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon me quickly. He made his way to me in two long, purposeful strides. Before I could respond, he effectively trapped me between his arms against the wall.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He growled, but I could hear the strangled bit of emotion.

“Tell you what, Rogers?” I asked, my voice unconvincing as I feigned my innocence. I knew it would be fruitless.

“That Bucky was alive!” He pushed himself roughly off the wall and straightened his posture, making it to where he towered over me. “You knew...and you didn’t feel even an ounce of compulsion to tell me?”

His voice was deeper and rougher than I’d ever heard before. He was distraught, sure, but I knew he wouldn’t act out on his anger.

“Look,” I said, allowing him just a tiny glimpse of sincerity. “I’m very sorry, Steve... Okay? I didn’t think…”

“Obviously!” He snapped, effectively cutting me off. “Damn it, Marena…” he growled before letting out a quick and ragged sigh, “You know how—”

“I know, Steve.” I interrupted as gently as I could. “And you’re right, I knew he was alive, but I didn’t think learning the truth about Bucky would be of any help to you. I honestly didn’t. It would’ve distracted you.”

I reached out and took Steve’s hand in mine, squeezing it gently, reassuring him that I hadn’t meant anything by keeping what I knew a secret.

I looked into his eyes. “I promise you if you get through to him and can break that hold that Hydra has on Bucky?” I waited until he nodded to continue. “I will be the first person there to help you get him back to himself. I’ll stand beside you and get James Buchanan Barnes back. But until then, Steve…” I waited until he nodded again. “I’m sorry… But he’s a weapon of Hydra, and I can not help you against him.”

Standing on the helicarrier, I watched as the Winter Soldier appeared, pushing Steve off the edge. He then turned his attention to Sam, tearing off one of his suit's wings and kicking him off the side as well.

I stood from my spot and made my way toward the Soldier. I held my ground, never showing any form of emotion, just as I’d been taught.

“СОЛДАТ! (SOLDIER!)” I called out.

He turned to face me but never said a word.

“Что делаешь?! (What are you doing?!)” I shouted.

“ОН - моя миссия. (HE is my mission.)” He finally replied.

“Значит, ты делаешь что-то такое глупое, как толкать его с корабля? Нет выживших. (So you're doing something stupid like pushing him from the ship? There are no survivors.)” I scolded derisively.

“Он не выживет. (He will not survive.)”

Steve pulled himself back up and made his way toward where I stood. I follow the Soldier’s gaze as his eyes widen slightly in shock, seeing the man standing behind me again.

“I thought you weren’t going to help?”

“Since it took him less than three seconds to knock you off this damn thing, it looks like you should be thanking me rather than criticizing me,” I retorted with a small smile.

“Кажется, вы не выполнили свою миссию, Солдат. Он все еще жив. (It seems that you have not fulfilled your mission, Soldier. He is still alive.)” I spoke to the man in front of me again, gesturing to Steve.

“Я никогда выходить из строя миссию, (I never fail the mission,)” he bit back.

“Я все еще здесь. (I'm still here.)” I stretched my arms out to the side and curtseyed, almost mocking him. “Вы провалили эту миссию, не так ли? (You failed this mission, did you not?)” His eyes narrowed at my words.

“Я не повторю ту же ошибку, (I will not repeat the same mistake,)” he growled, stalking toward Steve and me.

Chapter 8 - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Natasha stands in the middle of the room, waiting for the two men to leave before turning to face me.

“Sorry about outing you like that,” she says innocently.

“It’s fine. Tony would have found out eventually anyway.”

“So?”

“So?” I look at her with a raised brow.

“You and Barnes?” She smiles.

“Not happening, Nat.” I laugh.

“Oh, come on. You can tell me anything! We’re best friends!” she whines.

I throw my arm over her shoulders, pulling her in with a light squeeze. “You’re right, we are. And I love you, младшая сестра (younger sister). But I’m not telling you about Barnes.” There is no way I can tell her; it’s too painful a memory, even to share with my sister.

I turn, walking toward the bags hanging at the back of the room, leaving her in the middle to pout.

Finding some tape, I wrap my hands. Nat follows before long and stands behind the bag I am taking some frustrations out on. Holding it tight, she makes sure it doesn’t move each time my fist connects with it.

We make small talk, with her trying to understand what had happened to me.

“I know you won’t talk about Barnes, but can you at least tell me why you left us?”

“I just couldn’t play the ‘good guy’ anymore, Nat,” I reply between strikes.

“That’s crap. You relished being on the side of righteousness with Rogers.” She laughs.

“That’s beside the point.” I shake my head, holding back a laugh.

“From one super-soldier to another, huh? They must be excellent in the romance department.” She quips.

“You know I don’t kiss and tell.” I wink.

“Tell me the truth. Why did you run off? No note, no warning, no nothing. No one could find you. It was like you disappeared.”

“That was the point,” I say flatly. “Look, promise not to tell anyone?”

“You know me.” She cocks her head, giving a somewhat quizzical look.

“Exactly.” I laugh, “so, again, promise not to tell anyone?”

“Promise. What was it?”

“Barnes. All roads lead to Barnes, Natalia.”

“What about him?”

“I helped Steve with him once he broke out after being triggered by that low-life doctor. He remembered me; he trusted me, not Rogers. When he was - himself again, I couldn’t be around him.”

“So why choose to stay now?”

“He doesn’t remember our past now. Not after Wakanda.”

“You know you had us scared something happened, right?”

“I’m sorry. I probably could have done things differently, but in that moment, I was taken over by what few emotions I may have, and I ran. Rather than face everything, I fell back into old habits.”

“But not even Fury could find you?”

“As I said, that was the goal.” I finally step away from the bag.

Breathing heavy, with sweat pouring down my face, I step back and reste my back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, Nat. I had to go deep - go back to being a shadow - to make sure there was no way he’d find me.” I slide down the wall.

“But, we found you anyway?”

I look up at her with narrow eyes, and my head cocked to the side. “On accident. You guys weren’t looking for me. You were there on a mission and happened to stumble into my latest assignment.”

“Maybe. But we found you.” She smirks. “We can argue details later; let’s see if you still have what it takes to work with us.”

I shrug, standing from my spot. Maybe a little hand-to-hand combat wouldn't hurt.

After spending two long hours training with Natasha on the mat, we finally decide to call it quits. We are both tired and sore and ready for some much-needed rest.

Making our way from the elevator to our rooms, we part ways on her floor. She goes off to her bedroom, and I continue up to the level I had shared with Steve when I would stay at the Tower.

With some minor changes made from Tony’s original design, we had three rooms we could choose from. Looking down the narrow hall, I see the three solid doors. Steve had taken the first room on the right, and I claimed the single bedroom on the left. The last room, on the right side of the hall to the end, was left empty. I never asked Steve why he had requested three bedrooms or who he had hoped would fill the third, but I was sure I knew who was residing in there now.

Slowly opening the door, I just stand in the doorway and look around. Everything is how I’d left it, down to the weapons still being in their places around the room. The only thing that has changed is the sheets.

I hear the door behind me click open. Just as I suspected, I watch as Bucky steps inside and closes the door.

While staring at his door, I hear silent steps approaching behind me.“You kept it just the way I left it, huh?” I say before he can even open his mouth.

Turning around, I look up at Steve’s delicate features. That signature smile of Roger’s can still make my knees weak.

Maybe staying wasn’t such a great idea, after all, I think to myself.

“Why would I change it? I knew you’d be back eventually, and I knew you’d try to kill me if anything had changed.” He chuckles. “Besides, even I haven’t been back in the Tower that long.”

“True.” I smile. “But, you did touch my bed.” I poke him in the chest.

“I changed them while you were with Nat. I wanted to make sure you had fresh sheets, just like you like them.” He steps a little closer.

“Steve…” I lock my eyes with him, trying to judge what he is thinking.

“I don’t expect things to be like they were. Especially since Bucky is here.” He speaks softly, running his hands down each of my arms. “I’m just glad you’re back. And safe. Believe me; I’m more than happy as friends.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Goodnight, Marena.”

Turning, he makes his way back to his room, closing the door after offering one last smile.

I walk into my room, close and lock the door, and make my way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I throw on a T-shirt and shorts and crawl into bed. It doesn’t take long before sleep washes over me. Despite being a light sleeper, I always got the best rest in the Tower. It is the only place where the nightmares seem less frequent.

Chapter 7 - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Nick Fury stood in the small room, with four large screens overhead; a council member appearing on each.

“This is out of line, Director. You’re dealing with forces you can’t control.”

“You ever been in a war, Councilman?” Fury began. “In a firefight? Did you feel an overabundance of control?”

“You’re saying that this ‘Asgard’ is declaring war on our planet?”

“Not Asgard. Loki.” Nick corrected.

“He can’t be working alone,” the councilwoman spoke. “What about the other one? His brother.”

“Our intelligence says Thor is not a hostile,” Fury reassured, “but he’s worlds away. We can’t depend on him to help, either. It’s up to us.”

“Which is why you should be focusing on Phase 2,” the first councilman spoke again. “It was designed for exactly this…”

“Phase 2 isn’t ready. Our enemy is,” Nick interrupted. “We need a response team.”

“The Avengers Initiative was shut down.”

“This isn’t about the Avengers,” Nick stated flatly. He was growing tired of their politics.

A third councilman spoke up briefly, “We’ve seen the list.”

“You’re running the world’s greatest covert security network, and you’re going to leave the fate of the human race to a handful of freaks.” The first councilman was unimpressed by Fury’s line of thinking.

“I’m not leaving anything to anyone. We need a response team. These people may be isolated, unbalanced even, but I believe with the right push, they can be exactly what we need.”

“You believe?” the councilwoman questioned.

“War isn’t won by sentiment, Director.”

“No, it’s won by soldiers,” Nick stated.

Sitting quietly in a small town somewhere in the southern United States, staking out my latest assignment, my phone began to ring.

“What is it?” I ask flatly, not even looking at the device. A large part of me wanted nothing to do with the person on the other end. I am a woman of my word, though.

“We need you, Petrova. We’re at war and need all the help we can get.”

“You’ve got a monster, an assassin, an archer, and a super-soldier,” I said dryly. “Not to mention Stark and a whole slew of S.H.I.E.L.D agents at your beck and call. What do you need me for?”

“Barton’s been compromised, Petrova. There’s no telling how Romanoff is going to handle this.” This disturbed me. The only comfort I had was the fact that Fury’s tone never strayed from his usual deadpan, ‘matter of fact’ cadence. “Rogers isn’t thrilled that we are fighting a God for the very thing he essentially sacrificed himself for all those years ago, and you know the other two aren’t exactly stable in stressful situations.”

I had very little to argue, and he had hit me where he knew it would matter. Natalia. “And what do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to do what you do best. Talk sense into them, and help us save the planet.”

“You’re asking a lot there, Director,” I had to retort. I had a reputation to uphold, and I swore to myself that Fury was never to know when or if he genuinely struck a chord. “I’ve never actually met any of these people except Natasha; how am I -“

“I know you’ve read their files,” he said. It repulsed me to hear the smugness in his voice. “And I know you followed each one at some point or another in the last year. You know them as well as anyone, Petrova. If anyone is going to be able to pull them together in the end, it’s you.”

I bit my tongue and repressed a sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

My first task on the helicarrier was to set up the lab in which Banner and Stark would be working. Having done my research, I knew the way each liked things laid out. I made sure everything they could need was inside the room, including some snacks hidden away for Tony. I believe Potts’ newest handler treat for the inventor was blueberries.

As I was setting up, I could see some of the crew running about on the main deck. No doubt preparing for the arrival of Banner and Rogers.

Once I had the lab prepared, I spent some time exploring the massive ship. I learned my way around reasonably quickly, knowing where all the essential areas were, and even those that only I would find helpful. I made my way around the multiple levels, the vast array of rooms, even the prison they intended to use for Hulk - gods forbid should the need arise - but now, I learned, would be used as the holding cell for this “god” Loki.

Making my way back to the ship's main bridge, I couldn’t help but smirk a little as I came to spot Nat through one of the giant windows before me. Watching as she conversed with Banner and Rogers, Banner’s demeanor visibly changed when he realized we were lifting into the air.

Not wanting to make my presence known yet, I decided to take another lap around the ship. (LINE BREAK) I stayed hidden for as long as I felt necessary. The small task of taking down a God should have been nothing for this group. The mission turned out a bit rocky, sure, but they got the job done.

Sometimes, in the end, that’s all that matters.

From my position, I watched as they brought the Asgardian known as Loki through to the cell they would be using as a make-shift prison. I watched as Natasha, Banner, and Rogers made their separate ways to the control room again. They sat around a large table, watching the screens in front of them and listening in on Fury as he spoke with Loki.

As soon as Nick left and made his way to the control room to join the rest, I made my way into the room that held the god.

I still couldn’t get my brain around the word. 'God'... That’s rich. 'Prince' was more fathomable.

At most, he was just another mutant, but more so, a glorified errand boy and a witch. But, come to think of it, it is not entirely my place to decide who becomes a god to whom.

I hummed as I took in the room, lightly and calculating. I started to stroll around the cell, making a complete circle on the walkway that resided around the structure. Never looking directly through the glass, I made it seem as though I was inspecting for devices, for bugs. I could feel his eyes following me as I walked. Once I returned to my starting point, I turned to look him in the eye finally.

“You don’t seem like much of a threat, let alone a god,” I mused quietly to the man, for that's all he seemed to be.

I seemed to succeed in striking a nerve, for he answered immediately with an unsettling and ready smirk. “And you’re nothing but a worm human with pitiful enhancements. I sense a proposition. Why would I ever give you the time of day?”

A small laugh escaped me. “You responded, didn’t you? You remind me of a little boy burning ants through a looking glass.”

The man before me glowered. I pressed on, unbothered.

“Neither of us belong here. You have plans that require your freedom, and I?” I started pacing again, my hands behind my back now. “Well, I am far from a hero like the others strive to be.” My expression never changed. I was cold, calculated, and rather convincing, if I say so myself. “But, if you don’t want any assistance,” I shrugged with a small hmph. “Then I suppose I’ll just take my leave, your majesty.” I turned around and started to make my way toward the door.

I was interrupted by a resounding thunk and his voice. “I never said that.”

With a slight pause, I turned back to face him. His enclosed fist against the glass must’ve been the thunk. “Who are you?” He asked with narrowed eyes. “You aren’t supposed to be here, are you? You’re not one of Fury’s little pets.”

“Who I am is of no concern,” I replied. “But I am most certainly not one of his pets. In fact, they don’t even know I’m aboard.”

The looming smile he cracked held a certain allure. “Then you must be here for a reason similar to my own.”

I cocked my head. “Ah, so you wanted to be captured then?” I nodded, quickly understanding his ploy.

“Perhaps,” he turned away from me coyly. “It at least furthers my plans.”

“And what plans are those?” I began to walk around the cell again, slowly, moving to capture his gaze again.

“I’m sure you’re a smart enough woman to figure that out. Though, mark my word, brains won’t help in all situations.”

“Well. I do so appreciate your honesty.” I smirk. Strategically speaking, it was genius - knowing precisely to whom he was referring. After a musing beat of silence, I spoke again. “I must take my leave now, though, before anyone comes to find I am here.”

As I cross the threshold of the room, I hear his voice behind me give a final warning, “It is in your best interest to not double-cross me, worm.”

I halted and turned to look at him. He was practically leering. I could, however, tell I had aggravated him with my tactic of inconsistency. With a small devious smile that didn’t reach my eyes, I replied: “You will see me around, highness.”

I changed into a black suit, closely resembling those worn by the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents, I found it much easier to make my way around the helicarrier undetected.

I stopped outside the lab that I had set up for Banner and Stark, overhearing them and Rogers discuss their thoughts about Loki and Fury and their doubts in S.H.I.E.L.D.. Hearing footsteps I guessed to be the super-soldiers, I quickly continued on my way and walked past the room. I know he wouldn’t let Tony’s words get to him, but he wasn’t a fool. He was not going to ignore them. He’d look into what Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. might be up to on his terms.

I followed far enough behind as he made his way to where they kept the weapons. Still staying far enough back, I waited around the corner as he struggled briefly to open the massive steel door.

Knowing the others would still be doing their respective tasks, I could focus on Steve with no worry. He was the one that intrigued me most out of all of them - Natalia excluded, of course.

As the first super-soldier, they say he was still a good man - that, like me, the serum only enhanced what he already believed to be true. If that was, in fact, the case, I knew he would not be happy working for S.H.I.E.L.D.. In my honest opinion, it was wholly the same as HYDRA.

I watched Steve open various cases, staring at the items inside, seeing for himself that what Tony had told him was true. That the war he had been thrown back into was a corrupt one.

I took my leave before he ever closed the cases. Finding my way back toward the lab, where I knew everyone would inevitably congregate.

I stood outside the lab, a clipboard I had found in hand, listening intently as the entire group bickered amongst themselves. I knew they could get along, but it would take a common enemy to make them see their compatibility. It was going to take an ally falling, a dilemma, anything to make them realize there was more at stake than themselves.

I knew what I had to do.

During the explosion, in the chaos, I calmly started to make my way toward the cell where Loki was. I knew he was the only one that could cause the damage needed and that they could deal with him without my interference.

Everyone was scrambling around the ship, some grabbing weapons, some just trying to get back to their respective stations to take up whatever for the fight at hand. I paused to listen in as Fury spoke with everyone.

“Hill!” Fury called out.

“External detonation. Number three engine is down.” She cut out briefly, presumably talking with another crew member. “Somebody’s got to get outside and patch that engine.”

“Stark, you copy that?”

Tony must have responded through the earpiece because Fury moved on.

“Romanoff?” I heard, and there was a long pause. There was silence amongst the chaos. I held my breath, waiting for something, anything, to know she was okay. After what seemed like forever, I felt like I could almost hear her voice. “We’re okay.”

I could breathe again. So I moved. 

Finding my way to Loki, I knew I couldn’t get involved in anything with the others just yet. I made my way into the room, pressing the button to open the door on the cell.

His voice was immediate. “You help me escape. Why?”

“I have my reasons,” I hedge. “Just get your scepter and go about your business.” I don’t bother hanging around to wait for any more from him. By the time I turn back to look, he’s gone, and one of the agents he had corrupted is making his way through another door.

I stuck to the edge of the room, seeing if Loki would return to the cell. After a few agonizingly long minutes, Loki has returned, scepter in hand.

I watched from my position as Thor made his way into the room with us as the door of the cell slid open. Running to tackle his brother, the blonde man found himself crashing through a mirage and trapped in the cell. Peculiar.

I spotted Coulson as he entered through another doorway, taking out the S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent who had been corrupted by Loki, effectively knocking him out and aiming at the Asgardian with the - gratuitously large weapon he had with him. Unfortunately for Phil, this was just another illusion of Loki. The god appeared behind him and ran his spear through the agent’s abdomen.

Could I have prevented the death? Yes. I could have been the one to rush in and stop Loki, keeping him in that cell, rather than release him. But that wouldn’t have given me the leverage I needed to bring the band of misfits together to take down a common enemy, now would it? No, I had to make sure he was a sacrifice for the greater good. Fury could bring him back with little effort, so I knew there was no long-term damage, so to speak.

Then why did I feel wrong?

A few moments passed by, I recentered myself and shook the doubt off as Fury rushed into the room, making his way to Coulson. “I’m sorry, boss,” was all the man could muster before passing out.

I found it amusing that Fury knew precisely where I was when he turned to me, his voice hard and low. “Petrova. Why didn’t you try to stop him?”

“You have T.A.H.I.T.I.,” I said coolly. “Help Coulson with that.”

Fury fumed. “We scrapped that program.” Ohh, he was angry.

I laughed sardonically. “No, you didn’t.” I walked in front of him and Coulson. “Don’t try to play that shit with me, Nick. You may have scrapped it according to the files, but I know as well as you do that it is still a viable trick for you to pull out of your ass if you need to.”

At Fury’s petulant silence, I continued. “As for this whole mess, I needed a reason to bring them all together, and what better reason than this,” I motioned toward Coulson’s lifeless body.

Seeing no need to continue speaking or to listen to anything else Fury said, I moved to take my leave - stopping by the corrupt agent’s unconscious body to confiscate an earpiece - and made my way to the control center of the ship.

“Coulson is down.” Fury’s grave voice spoke.

“Medical team is on their way to your location,” an unknown agent assured him.“

They’re here. They called it.” I swallowed a little harder than usual when not a single person spoke.

Fury stood at the table; Steve and Tony sat opposite of him. I watched from a high-up corner. He spoke to the two, throwing in a few of his lines and tricks to convince them to work together. I loved the appeal to pathos when he tossed Coulson’s cards on the glass. 

Tony had abruptly got up and stormed off. I followed just far enough to know where he was going. Stark had his way of dealing with things, and I could respect that. In some ways, we were very similar.

I broke off from following Stark and quickly found Natasha. She was with Barton, waiting for him to come around. “Как он, наталья? (How is he, Natalia?)”

My sister did not react at all to my voice, unsurprised that I was there. “He’ll survive,” she responded quietly. “Has to level himself out, which will take a little time. How about you?”

“I’m going to make sure everything falls into place like it is supposed to. You make sure you and Barton are ready, yea?” I rested a hand on her shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze.

She reached her hand up to reciprocate. “I will.”

“До свидания, сестра, (Goodbye, sister,)” I said very softly upon my departure. 

I made my way back to the direction Tony had gone. Finding him, I saw Steve walk in, and the two began speaking.

I caught the tail end of Tony’s scoff and his response, “He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have...”

“Sometimes, there isn’t a way out, Tony,” Steve tried to interject.

“Right, I’ve heard that before.”

“Is this the first time you’ve lost a soldier?” Steve questioned.

“We are not soldiers,” Tony snapped. I could tell he was holding back something. Some emotion that he kept buried, never allowing someone to see him vulnerable. “I’m not marching into Fury’s fife.”

“Neither am I,” Steve conceded.

Seeing my chance to interject, I slowly approached. “If I may…” Upon both men regarding me with caution, I raised my hands submissively. 

“And just who are you?” Tony spoke first, sounded as catty as ever.

“No one,” I answered appeasingly. “Not really, anyway.” I lowered my arms and walked to where the two men stood. “But, I may be able to offer some assistance. If you’ll allow, that is.”

“What could you have to offer?” Stark was still acting aloof and distrustful, with good reason.

“Well,” I continued. “Loki made this attack personal, didn’t he?”

“That’s not the point,” Steve tried to argue.

“But what if it is?” I looked between the two. “He hit you all right where you live. Why?”

“To...tear us apart?” Rogers’ prompted.

I couldn’t help but stare, deadpan. This was supposed to be The Soldier’s best friend? It was clear he was the smart one of the duo.

Taking that as answer enough, Tony felt it was his turn. “Divide and conquer is great, but he knows he has to take us out to win, right?”

“Exactly,” I replied. “But he doesn’t just want to beat you; he wants others to witness him doing it. He wants the audience. And where is the best place to have a monument where you live - built to the skies - to put his name on it?”

It took a single beat of silence, and they uttered in unison, Tony more vehemently than Steve: “Son of a bitch.” Without another word, both men took off out of the room.

I knew they were ready now. Tony would fix his suit, and Steve would round up Nat and Barton. Everything would be on track.

They’d all find their way to Stark Tower and have the means to take down Loki. What could go wrong?

Sure, there were some hiccups, and sadly most of Manhattan was destroyed - whatever. It was a minor setback.

The team had pulled through. The Avengers were one.

Should the need ever arise again, they knew they could count on each other to take down whatever foe crossed their path. Yay - friendship.

Loki had been captured, and returned to Asgard with Thor. Banner left with Stark, probably back to what remained of Stark Tower. Natasha and Clint took off together as well, assumingly off to Missouri, back to Clint’s home and family that the rest of the team didn't know existed.

This left just Steve and me.

“So,” he began, “Petrova. Where are you off to next?”

“Not sure,” I responded. “I don’t plan my life. I rather live it and see what happens.” I smiled lightly.

“Well, if I’m not too forward in asking,” ever the gentleman, “how would you like to join me?”

My smile grew more genuine. “Oh? And where are you off to Mr. Rogers?”

“You know, I’m not entirely sure.” His voice was honest, with a slight hint of fear. “I think I need to catch up on the times a bit still. Do things that I’ve never done.”

“Well, Cap, in that case, I’d be more than happy to help you relearn who you are in this world.” 

Chapter 6  - Masterlist - Tag List @lostinwonderland314

Finding Home Chapter 4

Chapter 3

The distinct click of the door draws my attention to the figures entering the room. Natasha, Steve, and Tony stand just inside the door, none of them daring to get too close.

“So, Marena, to what do we owe this surprise visit?” Tony is the first to speak.

Standing up from my spot on the floor, I brush myself off and rest my hands on my hips. “This doesn’t look like a visit to me, Stark.”

“Well, you did abandon us. You can’t tell me you expected us to welcome you with open arms, did you?” Steve tries to reply nicely, but I can hear the slight pain in his voice.

“I guess not. But I didn’t expect this either. I’ve given you no reason not to trust me.”

“You left with no warning. No one could find you, not even Fury. Why?” Nat takes a couple of steps toward me but still keeps her distance.

“Я думал, что достаточно ясно дал понять, что это произошло потому, что я не хотел, чтобы меня нашли. (I thought I had made it clear enough that this was because I didn't want to be found.)”

I can see Bucky tense up again in my peripheral sight. Now I know it is just because of the language; Russian still makes him uneasy.

I turn to look at Bucky briefly and offer a reassuring smile. “Sorry, Soldier. I forget, sometimes.”

Turning my attention back to the others, I reply in English this time. “I had my reasons. And I have no reason to tell them to any of you.”

Bucky can’t seem to take his eyes off of me now. I can tell he is still trying to figure me out. What our past might have been. Who I am exactly.

“Что он делает? (What is he doing?)” Nat whispers, nodding toward him.

“Он пытается понять, откуда он меня знает. Но он не может. Благодаря Ваканде некоторые воспоминания остались - (He's trying to figure out how he knows me. But he can't. Thanks to Wakanda, some memories remain -) ” I trail off as I look over and meet his eyes. I watch as his jaw tenses again.

“Sorry. I promise I’ll work on remembering,” sarcasm lacing my voice as I speak. “But if it’s any consolation, I know which words to avoid.” I wink at him.

The four of us just watch as Bucky lets out a sigh and walks out of the room.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Nat whips around and stares at me. Her hands on her hips.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing,” I reply coldly.

“You and Barnes have a history or something?” she inquires.

“You could say that.” I nodd.

“What kind of history exactly?”

“Забудь об этом, вдова, (Forget it Widow),” I answer sternly.

“Ohhh...? Must be something deep for you to be calling me that - Shadow.”

I can’t help but smirk a little at her sarcasm. She always did prefer calling me that over anything else. Not to say she wouldn’t use my real name when around others, but she always used Shadow when she was, well, my sister and not the agents we were supposed to be.

“Shadow?” Tony’s voice brakes through our little argument.

It is kind of funny to me still, after all these years, to see Nat’s composure change when we are together in a relaxed environment.

She isn’t the always-ready weapon we were made to be. She is instead more of the child she suppressed for so long. Knowing she is one hundred percent safe with me around, she doesn’t have to be ready to fight.

“At least tell us what you did while you were gone, Marena?” Steve speaks as he makes his way to where I am standing — seemingly ignoring the conversation that had just taken place. “Did you work for the enemy? Did you share any of our secrets?”

Tony offers his input too. “Why should we trust you again? Especially since we’re missing some pieces about who you are.”

“I did freelance work. If someone was willing to pay enough, I didn’t care what side the client was on. I never took out any of your direct allies, though, if that’s what you’re asking. And no, I didn’t share any of your secrets. You should know me better than that, Steve.”

“I never know what to think with you, Petrova.”

“And as for you, Stark?” I look around Steve’s towering form. “I’ll gladly answer whatever questions you have, within reason.”

“Shadow?” he repeats, just staring at me.

“I was trained in the same facility as the Black Widows. Just under a different program. There’s no record of my training, missions, or life before I escaped from Hydra. Just rumors and ghost stories. A shadow. Just as they trained me to be.”

“That’s it?” he asks, shaking his head.

“That’s it… As far as the name goes anyway.” I smirk at him.

“What about before you left? You were on Cap’s team before disappearing; how can I know I can trust you?”

“I wasn’t on any damn team, Stark,” I snap, “I helped Steve because of Barnes. Unless you would have preferred, I let him destroy more than he did?”

“How exactly did you help? How do you seem to know so much about the Winter Soldier?”

“Research,” I say coldly, not willing to go into exact detail.

“Fine. I thought we destroyed everything about the soldier? So how would you know how to trigger him?”

I look around Tony to Steve. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.” He just smiles in response as I turn my attention back to answer Tony's question. “I knew how to activate the Winter Soldier long before any of you knew he was real.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust that you won’t activate him for the sheer enjoyment of it?”

“Tony, let me ask you something. Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

“Well, no, but -”

“Then why would now be any different? You know me, Stark. Look me in the eyes and tell me you can’t trust me.”

“Fair enough.” Tony nods in understanding.

“Look, I may not be pleased about how I came back to the Tower. And I won’t say that I’m happy to be here at all with all this uncertainty surrounding me. But, if you’ll have me, I’d like to stay. For a little while, at least.”

I look at Tony for an answer.

“You know you always have a room here, no matter what. Just, please, don’t make me regret that. Deal?” He smirks a little.

“Deal, Stark,” I smirk back.

“Welcome home, Marena.” Steve wraps his arms around me and gives me a welcoming hug.

I stand watching as Tony makes his way out of the room, followed closely by Steve.

Chapter 5  - Masterlist - Tag List