Ch. 8

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​

What I Got

Characters - Bucky Barnes, Female Reader

Pairing - Bucky x Y/N

Summary/Request - Sometimes those nagging thoughts can’t be avoided. But Bucky reassures her there is nothing to worry about.

Word Count - 1,003

Warnings - N/A (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Not great, I know. It kinda took a trip on it’s own lol Based on “Got What I Got” by Jason Aldean

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask or add yourself here) -

Story -

Bucky had come home later than usual this evening. It had been a long day, and the mission he had been on took longer than any of them had expected. It was all okay now. He was home, sitting at the table with Y/N in their tiny apartment outside the city.

There was something off about her tonight, though. He knew the signs. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but there were key parts of her body language that were different. A little bit of hesitance out of habit, but they were long familiar with each other. Usually, he was able to read her like a book; tonight, however, she seemed to be hiding something.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” Bucky asked her, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Everything is good,” she said with a slight shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“You seem a little off tonight.” Bucky paused briefly. “You don’t seem like your usual self?” Bucky asked, worried about her. “You seem a little stressed?”

Y/N ’s face seemed to drop, and she avoided his eye.

“Y/N?” Bucky tried again in a reassuring tone, bracing himself in case he somehow made her angry. “Are you sure?”

Y/N looked up from her plate. “Yea. Everything is good,” she smiled.

“You sure?” he asked her.

“I'm fine,” she shrugged again. “Just…maybe a little tired. Long day, you know.”

“I can tell something is on your mind,” he pressed as she returned her attention to the plate of food. “Talk to me. What is it?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“Y/N.”

“What, Bucky?”

“Come on, doll. What's on your mind?”

“I said it’s nothing,” she said, “I’m fine, Bucky, really.”

Bucky decided to try just one more time. "I don't like that look," he said.

"What look?"

"Your face," he said. "It seems pained. Like you’re...” he sighed, “please? Please just tell me what is going on.”

“Fine.” she set her fork down and let out a slow breath, “Do you - I don’t know - do you ever miss being… alone?”

Bucky’s eyes widened at this question. “What?” he asked. “What are you talking about?”

“You know - when it was just you and Steve, or just the team.” She looked up and saw the look of confusion on his face.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, I know we have great lives now, and I’m so happy we have this.” She gestured between the two of them, “but don’t -“

“No, doll,” he cut her off, “I don’t miss it. Not even a little bit. That version of me was nowhere near the best version.”

She nodded, “but sometimes I think…” she paused and looked back down. “I guess I just - I’ve been wondering if you really feel that we are meant to be together. That this place, this life, with me, is where you belong.”

“Of course it is, Y/N. You are perfect for me, baby, in every way possible. You’re everything I could ever want or need.” He reached across the small table and took her hand in his, running his thumb lightly over the back of her hand.

“Don’t you ever wish you could go back? To a time before we met?” she asked, looking up from her plate again. “Go back and see where you might be if we had never crossed paths?”

“Y/N,” he sighed, “I can’t. Sure, I've thought about it once or twice when we first got together, but it would be the worst decision I could ever make. I was a horrible person before you came along, doing terrible things. You saved me. Remember? You changed me.”

“I dunno, maybe -” she glanced down before looking back up at him. “Maybe we are just getting so used to this life that I'm getting nervous.”

“I… I don’t know what you mean.” He watched her face and tried to figure out what she was thinking, “listen, doll; I have no regrets, no second thoughts, no what-ifs that play through my mind. Before you came along, I was a disaster. What’s stirring this up?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “I guess just anxious thoughts. Worries from when you’re away. Sometimes I just can’t help but get lost in them. I love you, Buck, more than anything. I’m happier than I’ve ever been, but…” she nibbled on her bottom lip, “I’ve been thinking lately that maybe I’m not enough for you.”

“Hey,” he stood from his chair and walked around the table. Taking her hands in his, he pulled her to stand in front of him, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. “I promise, Y/N, when I have the perfect woman I could ever ask for, I don’t miss any part of what I had before. The old me is in the past for a reason; he belongs there, I don’t. I know, in the back of your mind, there’s going to be thoughts you can’t avoid that will question how we got here.”

“But-”

“No, let me finish,” he cut her off and pulled back to look her in the eye. “You are smart and beautiful, and I am beyond lucky that you chose me to be with you. You’ve captured my heart in a way no one could have ever imagined except for you. There is no version of me, of what I have now, that could be better. I love you so much, Y/N, and that’s why I want to be reassuring you of that love constantly. You are my every reason to be.”

“I love you too, Bucky,” she smiled and wrapped her arms around him. “I will never stop loving you or doubting that. I love you, Buck, with everything I am. Don’t you ever forget that. ”

“Never,” he whispered. “Not a second, nay, not a solitary moment,” he held her tight. It was the truth.

There was never a different version of himself that he would prefer over this one.

Marvel Masterlist

Things I Can’t Say

Characters - Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Y/N

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Y/N

Summary/Request - Steve & Y/N haven’t been an item for long, but they both have dreams of so much more together. Even though they won’t tell each other the truth.

Word Count - 1040

Warnings - Fluff (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the song “Things I Can’t Say” by Spencer Crandall

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask or add yourself here) - @lostinwonderland314​

Story -

She is sitting on the couch laughing with the group of heroes, not a care in the world.

Tony felt they all needed a chance to unwind and relax, even if for only a night.

People are all over - some dancing to the music, others surrounding the bar getting another drink for themselves or their friends - but everyone is in a good mood. No one worrying about the next significant threat.

Steve stands at the bar, leaning against it with one arm, watching with a smile on his face as she interacts with everyone.

Natasha makes her way over to get a couple more drinks for the group when she catches his gaze and can’t help but smile herself. “She fits in pretty well, huh?”

“Huh?” He shakes his head a little, not realizing he had zoned out.

Nat can’t help but chuckle, “Y/N? The girl you have been spending every spare minute with for the last few weeks? The best friend you stole from me?”

“Oh, yea. She - uh - she’s pretty great.” He finally breaks his gaze and looks at Nat with a smile she has never seen from him before, “she’s perfect.”

“I’ve never seen you so smitten, Rogers. You catching feelings that fast?”

“I don’t know what it is about her, Nat. It’s been two months and six days - and yes, I’m keeping count - and I can’t help but see a future with her.” He turns his body to face the bar, a small attempt to keep his focus off Y/N.

“So? Tell her.” Natasha shrugs like it is nothing.

Keep reading

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

Just Another Night

Characters - Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Y/N

Pairing - Bucky x Y/N

Summary/Request - A night out to unwind after a busy week, Tony decides to place a bet against Bucky. Little does he know, Bucky was prepared.

Word Count - 1,077

Warnings - Language (minimal), Fluff (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the song “Just Another” by Sammy Arriaga

Tags (Want on or off? Send a message/ask or add yourself here) - @lostinwonderland314

Story -

The bar was loud, but Tony had - of course - reserved a large corner near the door to the patio just for them. Bucky sat at the table with the rest of the Avengers team, laughing along as they all joked.

Thor had brought in alcohol for himself & the super soldiers, so they would all be able to unwind and relax just as the others can with the ‘mortal beverages’ they usually serve.

After, admittedly, one too many drinks, Tony decided to push Bucky just a little. “So, Barnes, when are you going to bring a female friend back to the tower?”

“Stark!” Natasha piped up.

“What?! It’s just a question,” he defended.

“What business is it of yours, Tony?” Steve questioned, knowing how shy and reserved his friend had become.

“I bet you’re too shy to even talk to a girl anymore, huh, big man?” Tony continued.

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Stark.” Bucky quipped.

“Oh? Really? How about you prove it then?” Tony laughed in reply.

“Fine,” he shrugged.

“See that beautiful girl at the bar? The one with the whiskey glass on the end?” Tony nodded toward the bar where you sat, ignoring the commotion around you.

He looked at the girl and then back to the table. “I bet you fifty bucks you won’t walk over and get her number,” Stark pressed.

Steve just shook his head while the rest of the group chuckled and taunted Bucky.

“You don’t have to do it, Buck,” Steve offered sympathetically.

Bucky quickly finished the rest of the drink in his glass, “It’s fine. You’re on Stark.” He set the glass on the table, sliding his chair back and slowly sauntering over to the bar where she stood.

He leaned on the bar next to you, smiling softly. “Hey doll, what brings you here tonight?”

“Just enjoying an evening out,” you smile back with a cautious glance to the table he had come from. “What brings you over here?”

“Well, my friends there,” he nods toward the table where they were all sitting and watching, “bet that I wouldn’t walk over here. So, if you could play along for just a minute, maybe? Take my phone here,” Bucky pulled out his phone and set it on the bar. “Fake some digits or something; they’ll never know.”

“I suppose I can help you out, but last I checked, you already had my number,” you give him a sly wink.

“They don’t know that, though.” He chuckled, “besides, I have a plan. Let’s walk by the table as we stroll out to the patio; maybe you could let me hold your hand?”

Bucky offers his hand to you. Finishing the drink in your glass, you gladly take his hand and follow him to the patio. He holds the door open for you, and as you walk passed you reach up and plant a soft kiss on his lips. You chuckle a little to yourself as you see him glance at the table and smirk.

“You know, they are going to be pissed.” He smiled, “They wanted a number, but I got a kiss.”

You laugh, “Well, like I said. You already had my number, so it didn’t seem fair to leave you with nothing.”

Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close, placing a feather kiss on your forehead. All the Winter Soldier stories talked about how rough he was, how strong and fierce, but the person you knew was soft. He was the person you could turn to in the darkest of times and know that he would hold the light steady until you found your way again.

“I feel like I should have had a pick-up line to use,” he smirked. “Make this just like any other Friday night like back in the day.”

“I prefer you without the 40s suave demeanor. I love the Bucky that you are now; all the flaws, scars,” you run your hand carefully down his arms - fingers delicately dancing over the grooves of his left. With a bit of cheek, you add, “And muscles.”

He breathes a laugh, and the two of you lean into each other, his lips brushing yours softly, delicately, like butterfly wings flitting. The embrace was just long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin. The taste of your deep red lipstick still lingering even after your part.

“What do you say we go back in,” Bucky had a sudden boost of confidence, “and finally introduce you to everyone?”

With a small touched smile, you felt warmth flood your chest.

He takes your hand and leads you inside again, this time stopping at the table. He takes his seat and pulls you to sit on his lap - the smile never leaving his face as he glances at all the blank stares and dropped jaws around the table. “You owe me fifty Stark.”

“Bucky - be nice,” you laugh.

“Uh, Buck?” Steve inquired, not able to help but look you up and down as you sit on the lap of his friend.

Sam, Thor, Tony, and even Natasha couldn’t help but look you up and down, a bit surprised that Bucky would have the confidence to talk to someone like you, let alone start dating you. Instantly.

"And you are?" Sam exasperatedly finally broke the silence.

"This is Y/N," Bucky offered, "We’ve been seeing each other for a little while now and figured it was time she met all of you."

"So you knew who she was and took the bet anyway?! That's bullshit Barnes," Tony scoffed.

"I think it was genius on his part," Nat snickered. "Pay up, Stark. He won fair and square."

Tony grumbled as he tossed a fifty-dollar bill at Bucky.

"Good for you, Bucky," Steve gripped his shoulder, "It’s good to see you genuinely smile again." He looked at you sitting on the other side, offering a hand he said, "It’s nice to meet you, Y/N."

"It's nice to meet all of you too, finally.” You took his hand, reaching awkwardly over Bucky. “He speaks so highly of all of you, and it's good to put real faces to names."

"Well,” Nat snipped kindheartedly. “I, for one, am just glad to have another girl join the mix.” She grinned. “Even if it is just the feared winter soldier’s girlfriend." Nat’s grin grew into a warm and welcoming smile.

Ch. 15

Chapter 14

Maura sat at the conference table with Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Bucky. Tony stood at the head of the table in front of a large screen. The image shown was one Maura knew well.

“This is our next mission,” Tony stated. “Hydra seems to have acquired some information and is trying to replicate my technology.”

“What do we know about the location?” Nat asked.

“From what we can tell, it should be a fairly easy job. There are a few scientists and only about four guards protecting the entire location. Now, that doesn’t -”

“Your intel is wrong,” Maura cut in.

Tony looked over at her. “What?”

“Your intel is wrong,” she repeated.

“How do you know?” Steve questioned her.

“Because… I spent a fair share of my time there.” She glanced down for a moment, then up again. “I know the place inside and out. There are about half a dozen scientists at any given time, usually all working on the same project, but not always. The main lab alone has at least two guards. The small lab on the west side will typically only have one guard when it’s actually in use. You’ll find another dozen agents spread around the grounds and watching the main gate.” Maura looked around the table, meeting each of their gazes before continuing. “It’s not the most heavily guarded facility on Hydra’s roster, but it’s not as empty as your intel would lead you to believe.”

Keep reading

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.

Keep reading

DA Chapter 16

Chapter 15

Harper was back on the run. Three months had passed since she left the farm, and Laura's words still rang through her thoughts when she tried to sit in peace. Guilt? Love? Happiness? Loneliness? Could these really be what was tearing at Harper's heart? She couldn't put it into words. All she knew was that this pain and uncertainty was something she needed to get past quickly.

She sat alone in a clearing. A large oak tree covered with small green flowers stood before her. It was peaceful. The spring air was crisp and clean. Birds chirped their songs as they flew from one branch to another. Small animals scurried about, taking advantage of the warm weather. The world seemed so normal around her; but deep down, she was sure no matter how much she wished for it, she could never have 'normal.' Not after everything she had done.

Harper stood from her spot, grabbed her bag, and walked off into the city. She found a quiet little cafe that offered free Wi-Fi and set herself up at a corner table. After ordering a coffee and a small sandwich, she opened her laptop and set to work. Stark's security wasn't as secure as he thought, so she managed to get into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system again quickly enough. If killing, in general, made her feel like shit, maybe going after the bad guys could help offset that feeling.

Looking over things, Harper noticed a list of Hydra locations that had recently been researched far more than others. She could only assume Fury was gearing up to send his team out to close down those bases permanently. Jotting down the locations, Harper booked herself a plane ticket to Europe for the next day. Once she was finished with her food and drink, Harper shut down her laptop, paid her bill, grabbed her stuff, and went on her way.

It had been close to a year since Harper had taken off. Though Bucky still went on missions with the rest of the team, his primary focus was finding her. For now, though, he and Steve were tasked to destroy two locations in Germany that were personal to him. They arrived in Bavaria, Germany, at the first location, and though they were both rumored to be abandoned, you never could tell with Hydra.

As they approached the castle, James could tell something wasn't right. It was too easy. There's no way the Zemo family hadn't upgraded security in some way. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about it all was making him uneasy. When Steve noticed his worry, he asked if he was alright. "I'm fine. Just... I don't know." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Something just doesn't feel right here." Steve nodded in agreement. While it could very well be nothing, they didn't want to take any chances.

The closer the two men got to the main gate, the more they could see. Not only was the large wooden door down, but looking up at the stone walkway over the gate, James noticed two bodies slumped over the side with pools of blood on the ground below.

As they continued, it was evident someone had beaten them to the location. It seemed the only things still standing were the outer walls of the building itself — the inside nothing but rubble.

"Seems like the Zemo family had more enemies than just S.H.I.E.L.D. that wanted to make sure they stayed out of commission," Steve said quietly as he and Bucky walked through the rubble.

"I don't think that's what this is," James replied, glancing around at the carnage. "I think someone did our job for us."

"What do you mean? No one knew we were coming here."

James pointed to the perimeter wall behind Steve, "That is what I mean."

Steve turned to look where his friend was pointing. "Shit... Is that...?"

"Yeah," James answered softly, "Yeah, it is."

While Bucky and Steve focused on their missions in Germany, Clint and Natasha arrived at a secret lab in Sudan. The place looked pretty much deserted, except for what appeared to be two guards standing at the door.

"Should be a quick in and out, I think," Natasha said.

"If she has Chitauri tech, we can't be so sure," Clint warned.

Natasha rolled her eyes, "We've dealt with worse." Clint shook his head, following Nat as she began approaching the building.

As they got closer, it became clear that the guards would be of no threat to the pair. "What the hell?" Clint muttered under his breath.

"Think it's a trap?" Natasha asked.

Clint pulled an arrow from one of the two men, dislodging it from not only the body but the brick of the building as well. The guard's form slid down the wall before falling to the side. "Nope. No trap," Clint assured, "Someone just beat us to the punch."

"What?" Nat questioned.

He sighed, turning to show Nat the arrow. "Look familiar?"

"It looks like one of yours," she commented.

"Close. I mean... you're right, it's not a standard arrow, but it's not one of mine either."

Clint and Natasha entered the small building and began exploring. They came across a few more bodies spread throughout the building, including that of the doctor that had been working with the technology and creating weapons to use against S.H.I.E.L.D.. When they entered the central lab, they saw that everything had been destroyed - weapons, computers, windows, everything. Nothing would be able to be salvaged, but it seemed that was the point.

Looking around the room, Clint's eyes locked onto the far wall in front of them. "Really?"

"What?" Natasha questioned as her gaze followed his. "Damn it..."

Standing outside the large building on the east side of Berlin, just one day removed from searching the rubble that was the Zemo family castle, Bucky couldn't help but feel tears prick at his eyes. It had been years since he had seen the structure before him, but he still remembered every second inside that hellhole.

It was clear that the area had been long abandoned, but James and Steve still walked in with caution. They walked into the large center room, and Bucky froze in his steps. An oversized chair still sat in the middle.

The giant lab still held desks, computers, recording devices, and so much more. To James, it appeared that nothing had changed since the last time he had been forced to set foot inside. While Bucky's eyes were fixed on the chair, Steve looked around the room, noting the second door on the opposite side and paperwork strewn about.

Bucky finally found his footing again and approached the chair. As he stood in front of it, he noticed something propped up on the seat. "Damn it, Angel," he breathed out.

"What is it?" Steve asked as he turned around.

"Stop," Bucky instructed sharply when he saw Steve attempt to walk toward him. "Don't move."

Steve gave his friend a questioning look. "Buck?" James picked up a pair of wire cutters from the chair. "What are those?"

"Wire cutters, Steve," Bucky sighed.

"What? Why?"

James held up a piece of paper, with Harper and Clint's symbol drawn on it. "Seems Barton's sister left a little present."

"I still don't understand," Steve replied with furrowed brows, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It was a game she played. There's a grenade… or a bomb… somewhere around here... with a wire attached. She left the cutters in case we can find it before we trip it," Bucky explained.

It had only been a week since the teams had returned from Germany and Sudan, but Bucky still couldn’t shake the sense that Harley was trying to get their attention. He knew he had to talk to Clint about it; he was the only one that might be able to give some insight into what she was doing. Bucky walked into the archery range at the compound. He watched Clint working with some recruits, giving them pointers and correcting mistakes. Their forms were fluid and precise; each movement seemingly practiced to perfection.

"You need something, Barnes?" Clint asked, spotting Bucky standing silently near the door.

"Just need to have a word with you if you have time,” he replied.

Barton nodded, directing the recruits to continue their work while he stepped into the hall with Bucky. “What is it?”

“Your sister, Barton,” he answered flatly.

"What about her?" Clint crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall.

"She's hit every location that we've been sent to. Which means she knows where we're going before we do. How?"

"How the hell should I know?" he shrugged. "Harley isn't stupid, Barnes. Knowing her, she probably hacked Stark's security again."

"So what do we do then?" Bucky pressed.

"Nothing," Clint said bluntly. "Look, Barnes, you've been searching for my sister for nine months and are no closer now than when you started. The only difference is that you have proof she is still alive and somewhere close by."

"Then help me," Bucky pleaded. "Help me find her."

Clint sighed deeply, "Listen, Barnes. You know how this works. You and I aren't the best of friends. And I honestly don't give a damn about your feelings for my sister. But Harley..."

"Yeah, I know, she can only be found when she wants to be. But come on, Barton. She is clearly reaching out in her own way here."

"To let us know she's alive, that's all. That's all she ever does.”

"I know that," Bucky sighed, "But what if this is different?"

Clint thought for a moment. "Alright, I'll bite. Say it is. What of it? How do you expect to find her?"

"That's why I need your help. You know her better than I do,” Bucky explained.

Clint snorted humorlessly, "I highly doubt that."

"Please, Barton. Help me out here."

"Fine," Clint relented. "Try the right way first," he suggested. "Find Fury, tell him you need the list of the recent Hydra locations we've been tasked with and any upcoming ones. It doesn't have to be in any order; it just needs the names. If he disagrees, go to Stark. He can get into the system and get the list easily enough. I don't need to know how you get the list, just get it and then come find me."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled gratefully at him.

"Sure,” he waved a hand dismissively as he headed back inside the archery room.

A week later, Bucky met Clint as he walked into the compound. "Barton," he greeted, "I got that list. It took a bit of convincing, but I got it."

"Okay," Clint nodded as he made his way toward one of the elevators. "Let's see if we can figure out where she'll go next."

The two men found an empty conference room with a large map that they could utilize. Clint marked out the few places they had already been to, and Bucky marked off other points of interest he thought Harper might consider off of the list.

"Now that that's done," Clint announced as he leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs out beneath the table, "We have to figure out where she may go next."

Bucky looked over the list of locations that sat on the table in front of him. He recognized most of them, but by name only. Two stood out to him, though. "I could narrow it down to two for us, but that's all I got," he told Barton.

Clint nodded, "Better than nothing. What you got?"

"From what I can tell, she's hit the places that have a connection to her in some way. I see two that I know for sure have a personal connection with her. One in L.A. and one in D.C."

"She's been hitting places that are either abandoned or have little to no risk for civilian casualties," Clint commented as he looked over the map.

"The D.C. location is right in the heart of the city. Unless she was damn careful, I doubt she could take it down without risk," Bucky stated.

"What about the L.A. one?"

"Fairly secluded," Bucky shrugged, "From what I know, it's abandoned, but there could still be some of the family living there."

"There's your answer then," Clint concluded. "Let's just hope she hasn't been there yet."

The two men had arrived in Los Angeles less than twenty-four hours after deciding that was the next logical place that Harper would go. They went straight to the mansion, hoping that it was still standing. When they arrived, they found the large gate at the entrance was open. There were no lights on anywhere in the house, to their relief, the driveway was void of cars, and the doors were locked and chained shut.

"Looks like it's definitely abandoned," Clint commented.

"And not a pile of rubble," Bucky added. "Maybe we did beat her to this one."

The two quickly checked the perimeter, checking all the windows to ensure no one was hidden inside. Finding nothing, they moved onto the garage. Inside were several pieces of machinery that Hydra had left behind, along with a few discarded weapons, which Bucky recognized.

"This could be our chance," Clint remarked as he reached down to pick up what appeared, at least, to be a shotgun that sat beside one of the machines. "We could take some of this back with us."

"Careful with that," Bucky warned. "Some of this stuff may not be exactly what it looks like."

Clint gave him a confused look but didn't ask further questions. The two finished clearing the outside area as quickly as possible, making sure the property was, in fact, abandoned. "Think you can take care of the chain?" Clint asked, knowing they needed to clear inside the home as well.

Bucky walked up to the front door, grabbed the heavy metal chain by the padlock with his left hand, and pulled it free. "No problem," he assured him before stepping over the threshold, dropping the chain to the floor just inside.

Clint followed suit, closing the door behind them as they entered the darkened home. They each went in opposite directions, checking everything they could find before returning to the entryway.

Bucky was the first one to notice the slight noise coming from outside. He glanced up at Clint, "Did you hear something?"

He shook his head slowly, "No."

Bucky turned to check out the window, careful not to move the blinds. "We have company," he told Clint. Walking to the steps directly in front of the door, he sat down, resting his forearms on his knees. It didn't take long before the door slowly opened. "Welcome home," Bucky greeted flatly.

Harper walked cautiously into the house with a pistol held tightly in her grip, aimed directly at Bucky’s head. Her eyes scanned the area quickly, spotting Clint in the next room as she looked for anything suspicious. Once she realized neither of the men posed any immediate danger to her, she lowered the gun slightly. "What the fuck are you two doing here?" she growled out.

"Why do you think we're here?" Clint replied simply, stepping into the entryway.

She scowled. "Because you can't leave well enough alone?" Bucky smirked as she continued, "You think I don't know you've been tracking me, soldier?"

"You're one to talk, Angel. Hitting Hydra locations you knew damn well we'd go to, leaving your mark behind for us to find," Bucky countered. "Not very subtle, huh?"

Harper's lips twisted into a grimace, "It was a message, nothing more."

"Oh really?" Clint raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Just like any time before. It was so that you knew I was fine. It wasn't some cry for help or a sign for you to find me. It was just a fucking message," Harper spat at him angrily.

"You only ever left them sporadically, Harley, not at every damn location. You and I both know this is different," Clint argued.

"No. This isn't different," Harper snapped.

"Bullshit," Bucky chimed in. "You weren't subtle about it. You left giant fucking symbols and buildings turned to nothing but piles of bricks. Let's not forget your little wire game in Berlin."

"Did you like that, soldier?" she mocked. "I knew you would be the one to show up there, so I left it just for you," she sneered at him.

"Cute," he retorted. "But you're not going to get out of this that easily, Harley."

"Don't be so sure about that," she smirked evilly.

Bucky stood from his spot, stepping down a couple of stairs to the floor. As he got closer to Harper, she stepped back, inching her way out the door. "You don't want to run. Not really," he continued as he neared her.

"I always run, Barnes," she muttered quietly.

"You can fool your brother, but you're not fooling me," he chuckled. "You wanted to get caught."

She paused at his words, looking at him with wide eyes for a moment before she laughed nervously. She shook her head rapidly, "You’re crazy," she breathed out.

"Am I?" he challenged. Bucky quickly reached out and grabbed her upper arm just before she inadvertently fell down the porch steps. His grip tight, he dragged her toward him. "Tell me the truth," he demanded in a quiet whisper so only she could hear.

Her gaze shifted nervously between the floor and the man standing above her. "Fine," she replied in a whisper of her own. "I wanted you to come for me," she admitted softly.

"Why?" he questioned, letting go of her arm.

Harper sighed, shaking her head. "You know why," she murmured.

Clint leaned against the banister, watching the two of them interact. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but that didn't matter because he could read their body language perfectly. He had never seen his sister look so... vulnerable. Even when she was stuck in the hospital bed, she still was on her guard. But with Bucky? That faded away. She didn't seem like a woman who was afraid anymore; she seemed like an entirely different person. It was almost like looking at a complete stranger. "Would you two like some privacy?" he inquired suddenly.

Harper jumped when she heard Clint speak, all but forgetting her brother was even there. "No," she answered shortly.

Bucky rolled his eyes, giving Clint a pointed look before returning his attention back to Harper. "Just come back with us, Harley. No more running," he pleaded.

Harper remained silent for a moment as she looked between the two men. "No," she finally said.

“What do you mean no?” Bucky questioned firmly.

“I don’t know how to make it any clearer, Barnes.”

“What are you so afraid of? Why are you so damn scared of staying?” he pressed.

“I’m not-”

“I think,” Bucky interrupted, “It’s because you can see a future… a happy one… And that terrifies you to think that you could allow yourself to have that.” Her eyes softened and he could see the idea playing in her mind.

"Harley…" Clint tried.

"No," she cut him off sharply, clearing her throat and recentering herself. "I'm not going back to New York," she declared.

Clint let out a defeated sigh before nodding his agreement. "Fine."

"Fine?" Bucky glared at Clint. He had hoped that he was getting through to the both of them, but it seemed he was mistaken.

"Barnes, just leave it," Clint sighed tiredly. "I promise it isn't worth the fight."

Before either man could stop her, Harper took off out the door. She hopped in her car and sped out of the driveway.

"We can't just let her walk away," Bucky protested. “We were so close to-”

"Can't? Or won't?" Clint shot back. "Look, if you try to fight her, you're gonna lose her for good. She’s not ready to change, and you’re not going to convince her otherwise."

"So am I supposed to stand around while she goes and tries to get herself killed again?" he questioned.

"If that's her choice, yes," Clint countered. "I know it's not what you want to hear, trust me. But she's too stubborn to give in to what someone else wants her to do. She has to make the choice on her own."

Bucky began to argue. "But -"

"Barnes, just stop," Clint interrupted him. "There's nothing you can do. I understand there is something between you two, but you have to let her come to terms with it on her own. There's nothing you can say right now that will change her mind." He walked out of the house toward their car. Bucky reluctantly followed. "She'll come around," Clint tried to assure him. "For now, let's just get some agents here to empty the house and move on to the next mission."

Bucky nodded in silent agreement before dropping into the passenger seat. "You better be right," he muttered under his breath as he closed the door.

Chapter 17 – Masterlist – Taglist

Been a hot minute - Sorry

I have a couple stories that should be posted soon - working on lots of others - and all the while trying to keep my sanity.

So - keep your eyes open! <3 Lots of stuff to come! <3 

DA Chapter 13

Chapter 12

The time had come for Clint and Harper to face their greatest personal adversaries. They had their quivers on their backs and bows in hand. Harper also had her knives in their places and her pistol in its holster on her hip. They had parked at the far end of what would become the makeshift parking lot for the show. As they approached the entrance, a slight sense of home filled the siblings as the sight in front of them drew closer.

Watching the performers running around, getting everything set up for the evening's show, was almost like going back in time to their childhood; bringing back memories that were hard to ignore. They had spent more time on the road than they had in a real home.

Harper stopped walking and just looked at the tents and the staff wandering about. She couldn't help but feel a sting in her eye from the bittersweet memories that came flooding into her brain. Her emotions started to get the best of her, and she let out a sigh as a single tear began to roll down her cheek. What the hell is wrong with me?

"Hey, you okay?" Clint asked, concerned. He saw his sister's expression change immediately when she noticed him beside her.

"I'm fine," Harper replied, quickly wiping away the stray tear. "It's just been a long time since we've been here."

"Yeah," Clint agreed with a slight nod. "But we need to do this, Harley."

"I know. I'm good," Harper said as she continued walking towards the tents. Clint didn't reply, only giving a sympathetic glance in his sister's direction before following after her.

They walked around the perimeter to the back yard where all the trailers were set up so they could avoid being seen easily. Most of the equipment, and even a lot of the staff, looked all too familiar to the sibling pair. "Bartons?" someone called out, causing both Clint and Harper to look around, searching for where the voice had come from. A woman approached, a look of bewilderment etched on her face. "Is it really you?" she questioned.

"Hi, Marcy," Harper greeted softly.

The look on the woman's face turned to one of shock, “It’s been ages. But it is so good to know that you two are still alive and doing well.” She embraced each of the siblings, though Clint was more welcoming of the gesture. “Don’t take this wrong, as I am so thrilled to see you both, but what are you doing here?" she questioned, looking between the two siblings.

"I'm sorry, Marcy, but we're here for Jacques and Buck. Are they here?" Clint spoke up.

Marcy looked down, as if she had been defeated. "I knew it would happen eventually," she muttered. "I think they are in the main tent. If not, they are at their trailers."

"Thank you, Marcy," Harper sympathetically placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Just, please,” Marcy began, as the siblings started for the tent, “Fight away from the rest of the family? For me?" she pleaded.

Harper turned slightly to look at the old woman, "I promise," she assured her. Marcy nodded once and walked away, back the way she came.

When Harper and Clint entered the main tent, they saw several more familiar faces, but none were the men they were looking for. "What are the odds that Marcy tells them we're here?" Clint questioned.

"Nah," Harper replied, shaking her head. "She’s been expecting this for a long time. She's told them countless times that their bullshit side gigs would get them killed one day."

The siblings left the tent and walked back to the trailers. Harper looked over her surroundings as they made their way toward a trailer at the farthest end of the line. As they approached, they heard two familiar voices. Clint carefully stepped around the front of the RV and spotted the men talking a few feet back. He gestured to his sister, who walked around the back of the vehicle so they could limit the directions the men could run if they tried to escape.

"You know Hawkeye will come after us eventually, Jacques," Buck spoke in a harsh but quiet tone, tightening his quiver against his chest.

"It's been months. Who's to say he even knows she's dead yet?" Jacques countered, sliding his sword into its sheath on his hip. "Besides, he's one of the good guys, remember? He wouldn't risk that for Angel. She was on the losing side anyway."

Buck shook his head, "She was still his sister. That counts for something."

Jacques gave a scoff. "Don't be naive. Hawkeye doesn't care about her."

The siblings took that as their cue to step around the RV and face the two men arguing. "You know," Harper began as she slowly approached them, "For two blundering idiots, I'll give you guys credit for one thing. Your aim has never faltered." She rotated her right shoulder in a circle, “That shit hurt like hell.”

Jacques and Buck turned, eyes wide, as they both saw Harper and Clint walking toward them.

"Well, well," Buck commented with an eyebrow raised as he watched Harper closely. "Nice to see you standing here, little Angel."

"Cut the bullshit, Buck... Or should we skip the formalities? Save us all some pain. Huh, Trickshot?" Harper responded curtly.

Jacques laughed, "Oh, come on. Where's your sense of humor? Or was that the only thing we managed to kill?"

"Funny, Swordsman," Harper shot back sarcastically. "You've both been sent to kill both Bartons now and have succeeded how many times exactly?"

Jacques rolled his eyes, "Why prolong this, Angel? What are you waiting for?"

"I made a promise to someone that we would keep this away from the family," Harper responded honestly. She tried to keep her cool and remain calm, though her tone betrayed her feelings.

"You always were a stubborn, sentimental little bitch," Buck remarked. "Never going back on your word, even as a kid. But then, your word is all you got, isn't it, Angel."

"Are we going to reminisce? Or are we going to settle this? Cause I got shit to do..." Harper snapped, her tone starting to edge out of control.

Clint finally stepped forward, "We all know how this is going to go. So why not cut the crap and get right to business?"

"Fine," Jacques spat. "As long as you can keep from shooting us in our backs like the coward we all know you really are, Angel."

Harper rolled her eyes and scoffed, "Trust me, Jacques, I look forward to watching you die up close and personal," she replied coldly.

"Just move," Clint demanded, gesturing to the vast field behind them.

Jacques and Buck glared at each other for a minute before nodding. They turned and began walking out into the field. Harper and Clint followed, but back far enough that she knew the men couldn't hear her talking. She pulled a blade from her waistband and held it out to Clint.

"Take it," she insisted quietly. "I’m sure this is going to stay fairly close in combat, and they both have blades. You can't use your arrows up close, so you need something in case."

Her brother reluctantly took the knife, tucking it into the waistband of his suit. As the four of them reached the middle of the field, far enough away from the tents that they wouldn’t risk drawing any attention, they stopped, and all looked at one another. The three archers removed their quivers, setting them aside with their bows. Jacques removed the long sword and sheath from around his waist and set it aside as well.

All four of them readied themselves, taking positions, ready for battle. "I knew this day would come eventually," Jacques said, "But I never imagined you two would be working together when it did."

"Yeah, well," Harper began, noticing Jacques' right hand moving to the belt around his jacket, "No one ever said you were smart." She quickly grabbed a dagger from her belt and threw it straight at him.

The blade went through the back of his hand and embedded itself into his hip. Blood spilled out onto the grass below him as the man groaned in pain and instinctively pulled the knife, dropping it to the ground. Harper smirked darkly, taking steps towards him slowly as he doubled over.

"Damn," Clint whispered under his breath.

"You little -" Jacques spat furiously, reaching his left hand to his side. "How dare -"

However, before he could finish speaking, Harper had already reached him. She kicked him in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground on his back. Standing over him, she brought her foot down on his neck, applying just enough pressure to restrict his breathing. His hands flew out in front of his body as he struggled, clawing at her boot. She stood cold, glaring down at him.

Clint had never seen this side of his sister before, but he couldn’t let himself lose focus. Buck charged toward his friend, a knife of his own raised and ready to strike. Clint immediately stepped to the side and picked up his bow, nocking an arrow in the bowstring. "Don't do it, Buck!" he called out.

Harper looked over her shoulder just in time to take a step back and avoid being stabbed in the back by a blade. Jacques let out a strangled gasp as he struggled to catch his breath. "Go ahead," Harper challenged. "You failed once already; what's one more?"

Buck didn't hesitate. His eyes widened, and he quickly moved in for the attack. Clint released his arrow as Harper blocked Buck's knife. She grunted slightly as Buck's blade cut into her arm. The arrow her brother had used lodged into the man's lower back just as Harper spun around and kicked out as Buck still tried to stab her. Between the projectile in his back, and her foot connecting with his midsection, Buck grimaced as pain rushed through him, and he stumbled forward.

Harper took advantage of Buck's momentary weakness and kicked him across the face, sending him sprawling onto the grass. He fell heavily forward with a thud. Harper wasted no time as she swiftly knelt beside him and gripped the shaft of the arrow in his back tightly. She yanked the arrow out harshly and tossed it aside, the damage having already been done.

Jacques got up slowly, stumbling as he tried to regain his footing. "Something... Something is... Different..." he stammered as he finally stood straight.

"Yeah," Harper agreed with a smirk. "What? Did you think I survived on sheer willpower? Guess again, asshole."

Jacques lunged forward with his knife, aiming for Harper's side. She easily sidestepped his blade and jabbed him in the gut with her elbow. The two clashed violently, each fighting to get the upper hand on the other. Harper punched Jacques' jaw repeatedly while he attempted to kick her knees out from under her. In retaliation, Harper kicked him directly in the stomach and sent him flying backward. He doubled over, and Harper kicked him in the ribs, knocking him to the ground once again.

Clint saw Buck begin to stir and took it upon himself to stop his former mentor. He dropped his bow and sprinted forward as Buck regained his balance. Clint knocked Buck back with a kick to his ribs, causing him to fall back to the ground. Buck let out a grunt of pain when he tried to get up but found his legs shaking uncontrollably. Between the pain in his side and the wound to his spine, Buck was barely able to stand, but his determination, and adrenaline, won out.

The four fought back and forth; trading blows until the sun started to set. They were all tired and hurt; Jacques and Buck more so than the siblings. The three men were getting increasingly more fatigued as the minutes passed. Thanks partly to the serum flowing through her, Harper was hanging on just fine.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Clint and Harper stood over their former mentors. Their breathing heavy as their wounds bled through their clothes and they glared down at the men before them. Harper held her pistol in her hand pointed down at one of the men. "It's over," she stated simply. "We all knew this could only end one way."

Jacques narrowed his eyes at the young woman, fury, and frustration evident in every line of his face. "Then do it," he spat.

She grinned wickedly as she fired her pistol. There wasn't time to react as the bullet struck Jacques dead center in the forehead. His body went limp, lying motionless on the grass. Harper turned to Clint, "It has to be done, Hawk. You or me?" she asked him.

He knew exactly what she meant. "I need to do it," he told her sincerely. Harper held the pistol out for him. Clint glanced at Jacques' body for just a second before reaching out and grabbing the weapon.

Harper gave Jacques one last show of respect, reaching down and closing his eyes before she began walking back across the field toward the tents. She stopped to grab her bow and quiver, along with her knives, as she went. As she got to the trailers, she slumped to the ground next to one, leaning her head back against the side and closing her eyes. It wasn't much longer before she heard the shot.

She opened her eyes, looking out at the field, watching as Clint slowly made his way across toward her. When he finally reached her, he lowered himself to the ground next to her, handing her pistol back. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Harper offered quietly.

He shook his head, "Like you said, this only ended one way. It was them or us."

"I know, but still." She sighed and closed her eyes.

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds from the show inside the multiple tents. It was comforting, somehow. Harper let out a long sigh as if releasing the mountain of tension she had been carrying for months. Finally, knowing that not only was she safe, but her family was as well. Harper felt a hand grasp her own and looked over to see Clint watching her. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Thank you," he replied simply.

"For?" she questioned, confused.

"Everything," he shrugged. "You took on so much through the years for my family and me. I can tell, with those two gone now," he gestured to the field where the two men's bodies remained, "That you feel like a weight has been lifted. I just want you to know I appreciate everything you did for me. And I'm sorry I was such a dick to you."

Harper snickered, "You were kind of a dick, huh?" The siblings laughed quietly together, for the first time in a very long time.

Hearing a lull in the excitement of the show, Harper and Clint finally decided it was time to go. They rose to their feet, grabbed their weapons, and made their way through the trailers. As they got close to the event entrance, they spotted Marcy standing there. She smiled lightly at them both as they approached. "Well?" she asked.

"They are in the field, Marcy. I'm sorry," Harper apologized.

Marcy nodded, "It's okay, my little Angel. Rather it be you two that did it than some low life that might come lookin’ for more from me." She stepped closer to the siblings, and the three embraced in a group hug.

"Thank you, Marcy," Harper said quietly. "We owe you so much more than we could ever repay."

"Think nothin' of it, baby girl." Marcy pulled away and gave them each a warm smile. "All I ever wanted was to see you two grow up and succeed in this life. And you've each done that and more."

"We owe it all to you, Marcy," Clint added softly. "Thank you."

"Oh, quit thankin’ me, sweet pea. You did it all on your own," Marcy insisted. "Now, you best get out of here. I doubt anyone heard the shots, but you never can tell."

The siblings nodded, each giving Marcy one final embrace before walking toward the makeshift parking lot. Harper turned back briefly, "They still have their weapons, Marcy. It didn't feel right to take them."

"Don't you worry," she assured, "We'll take care of all that."

Harper gave the older woman a final smile before jogging to catch up with her brother. Clint draped an arm around Harper's shoulders as they walked. Though it was a foreign gesture to her, Harper allowed it. They walked in comfortable silence together, content to just enjoy the sounds of the night as they made their way through the rows of parked cars to their vehicles.

Chapter 14 – Masterlist – Taglist