#agonyapril

"Have you heard from Y/N lately?" Steve asked, reaching for his beer after he swallowed.

"We talked briefly last week, when she needed me to get something from Asshat's place, but she wanted some space," Bucky replied. 

Y/N was a long time friend of Bucky's sister, Becca, and eventually he and Y/N became friends too. Y/N helped where Scott and Kim couldn't: bringing in the mail, cooking meals, or even just keeping her company. Becca was the one that informed Bucky of how much of an ass Y/N's boyfriend was, which she suspected was why a 30-something woman would want to hang out with a woman in her late nineties. So when Becca passed away a few months ago, neither Bucky nor Becca's grandchildren questioned it when she left Y/N her house. 

It's for her to start over, was what the will stated, which made sense to the three and none argued. He helped Y/N move out of the shared apartment she had with the sorry-excuse-of-a-man that was called Dylan. Both he and Steve had everything she owned out within a work day, so when the asshole came home he was left with no furniture, no bed, and no note. Bucky also helped her get her name off the lease, but she didn't need to know that.

"Well, maybe next week, invite her out for drinks with us. She can't be held up in that house, afraid of bumping into him. She has the restraining order in place and we always have a friend on her street to make sure he honors it," Steve replied, setting his bottle down.

Bucky was about to answer when his phone buzzed. He looked down, brows furrowed.

"What?" Steve asked, looking from his friend to the phone.

"Her alarm went off," Bucky sighed, picking it up and clearing the notification. His finger swiped a few more times before bringing the phone to his ear. "She sometimes forgets to put the code in right away when she gets home."

The phone rang on, and on, and on. Then it was her voice-mail.

"No answer," he frowned before the beep sounded. "Hey, Y/N, just Bucky. Got a notification that your alarm went off and checking in to see if you're okay. Call back." He ended the call with a slow tap, his brow still knitted together. "She never not picks up."

"Do You want to go check it out?" Steve asked, motioning for the bartender over to pay for their tab.

Bucky shook his head, downing the rest of his beer. "I'll give her five more minutes then call again. She might be doing something and hasn't turned her volume up?"

Before he could even say another word, his phone buzzed with Y/N’s name. He answered it quickly, his words rushed. “Are you okay?”

“Bucky, I need help.”

If it wasn’t for his super soldier hearing, he wouldn’t have heard the words nor the shakiness in her voice as she spoke. He didn’t even excuse himself from Steve as he got up and grabbed his jacket, making his way towards the door. He could sense his friend hustling after him once the tab was paid; Bucky kept talking to Y/N, asking questions to judge how quickly he needed to get there.

“Just...come. Please. I need you. He’s—”

There was a loud crash and Y/N yelped, the phone falling to the floor.

“Y/N! Steve and I are coming,” he rushed out as he climbed on his motorcycle, not even checking on Steve. He knew his best friend could hear everything, and that he would follow suit. They both sped off towards Y/N’s home, Bucky weaving between cars and running lights as he held the phone to his ear. He could hear Dylan curse and things being slammed into or thrown. Y/N’s muffled sobs were breaking his heart, knowing she was alone with a monster and scared. 

He didn’t care that he dropped his bike on the drive, he didn’t care that his phone fell to the pavement, possibly breaking; nor he didn’t care that the front door fell off its hinges when he slammed his left fist into, splintering the heavy wood. All he knew was that he had to rescue Y/N from a dangerous person. 

“Y/N, open the damn fucking door!”

Bucky’s head snapped up the stairs then began to ascend two at a time just as he heard Steve rush up the walk.

There, outside of the bathroom door, was the asshole that has caused Y/N so much pain. His fist was beating on the door, his other twisting the knob back and forth. Thankfully, Y/N let him put in a steel door to the bathroom with a deadbolt as a safe room for her in case Dylan should show up. It only took a few weeks, but he was hoping she never had to use it. He could hear her crying behind the door, pleading Dylan to go away as she begged for Bucky to come and save her. 

His left hand fell on the bulky man’s shoulder, spinning him around and connected his right fist to the man’s face. An agonizing scream left the man’s mouth as Bucky pulled back and landed another punch, this time to Dylan’s chest, before throwing him to the side, right into Steve’s hands. Bucky didn’t see what Steve did to the lowlife, he didn’t care, all he knew was that he had to get to Y/N.

“Y/N, doll, it’s me. Steve and I are here. Open the door, sweetheart. It’s safe,” he rushed out, his hand knocking on the heavy door. He waited for her to unlock the door, pulling it open slowly.

She stood before him, her right eye puffy and her lip split. Bucky’s eyes roamed over her, noting a bruise that was starting to form on her neck and her forearms.

He was going to kill the bastard.

“Steve,” Bucky gritted out, and Steve started to go down the stairs, taking the intruder out just as Bucky heard the police round the corner of the block.

It wasn’t meant to end this way, your life.

It was a rescue mission, there wasn’t meant to be any villains, it was reported as a natural occurrence.

“There has been an earthquake” The Commission had stated, “Nothing points to villains.”

You shouldn’t have believed them, The Commission was never corrected in their assumptions of natural events, it would have saved you from your current predicament of being under one of the support beams of the structure you had been clearing.

You could hear the sounds of screams of others trapped, most were just screaming out to god for them to be rescued but you knew better, using what strength you had left in your body you reached for your phone and dialed the two men you could rely on.

Before the men could talk you mastered a quick, “Villain attack at my location, save the others before me, will is in the office safe.”

You heard Bakugo’s scream over the phone before closing your eyes to conserve energy even though you knew you weren’t getting out of this situation alive.

You could also hear the sound of the other man, “Stay awake Y/N, talk me through your injuries.”

So you took what seemed like a deep breath, “Legs are pinned, can't move my toes, i think I’m bleeding at the waist but not sure but…” That was when you coughed, “I have internal bleeding.”

Looking around the area Bucky was scouting the new map that had shown up in his apartment after having one of his episodes. It looked familiar, like he had been there before but his memory wasn’t what it used to be.

The map had little red crosses all over it along with little notes.

Use bomb to block other door

Place bomb on the bottom of elevator

Use car bomb on targets car, usually parked here

It was all in his hand writing, what had his body done. He looked at the back of his hands before flipping them and looking at his palms. If he looked closely he could see little flakes of black powder in the creases of his hand which caused him to rush to the sink and scrub his hands raw before looking at the clock.

If the version of him that takes over set a bomb like he would, they would have set it for the rush of leaving work which would be about 5.

20 minutes to get to the target which he isn’t even sure where exactly it was but still he had to try. Hopping into his car he turned the engine on before glancing at the map. It wasn’t a newer building so it is more center of town and if the was to target an enemy he would take down their control tower which would probably be town hall in this case.

Every stop light he hit he would look at his watch as time ticked away before tightening his grip on the wheel praying the light turns green soon.

He was two blocks away when the clock hit 5 on his watch, he always set it a little faster so he wasn’t late to appointments. When he pulled in the car park of town hall he looked at the town clock and as he closed his car door all he heard was.

BOOM!

The first boom was followed by quieter explosions but the first explosion certainly damaged his ear drums so maybe the ones following weren’t actually quiet.

He had to rush in and help but he knew that no one survived, there was an arm laying in front of him and other body parts scattered around.

Bucky thought the young redhead he came across in the woods was just a kindly peasant girl selling her family's produce. Her coy smile and bright green eyes drew him in, and her melodic voice brought a smile to his normally glowering face. It was refreshing to see someone after what felt like weeks out in the god-forsaken forest, running from the impending doom at what was once his castle, so when she offered him a taste of the green apple she was eating, he threw caution to the wind. There was nonway the witch could find him after so many days gone; she probably had already given up the search for him knowing he was dead somewhere, thinking predators were feasting on his rotting corpse. And so, he took the piece of apple and bit into it, the juice slightly dripping down his lips and chin. It felt like a godsend compared to the nuts and berries he had been feasting on since he ran, and he wasn't overly concerned when it felt like the juice caught in his throat, making him cough.

But the cough didn't stop. He felt his lungs burn for air as he continued to half choke on the apple, sputtering out pieces of the half chewed fruit as he fell to his knees, his fingers digging into the soft earth. His eyes watered as he tried to look to the young girl for help, but she was standing behind her small table, her coy face now set in a slight scowl and sinister smirk.

"My darling prince," she sang, leaning forward on her hands to look down on him, "you thought you could escape your fate. You're a fool to think you could run from me, to try to survive. I made a promise to a very powerful deity to end your family's line, and I fully intended to follow through to see the light leave your eyes."

He could say anything, his throat closing on itself slowly, making it harder to breathe. He watched her with wide eyes round the table to lower herself in front of him, the devilish smile on her face.

"Y-y-you."

It was all he could manage before a coughing fit overtook him again, this time blood splattered the forest ground.

Her finger hooked under his jaw, lifting his head up to make him look at her, not flinching when his cough misted her hand with his blood.

"I could have done it quickly, you know, but I wanted to savor every second of your life dwindling to nothing. Just makes it sweeter to see you suffer."

Bucky went to grab her hand as he felt air leave him and not be replenished, but she brushed him off, making him fall hard to the ground, her finger turning his head to face her.

Odette sighed as she dropped the bloodied rags into the bin before turning to the basin filled with cold water. This was her fourth soldier she patched up and hoped that she could get a moment to sneak away to get a smoke before she was needed again. She had barely finished washing her hands before turning around to see Miriam rushing into the tent. The blonde was flustered, her hat slightly coming undone on her head, her cheeks red from the exertion. Odette smoothed out her apron before holding out her hand to her friend to have her slow down.

“The...doctor...needs...you,” the blonde huffed before taking a deep breath to try and slow her breathing. “There’s a Joe that needs–”

“Of course,” Odette sighed. They might not let women be doctors but they have no problem asking more of nurses than what they were taught; and Odette knew her way around sick and injured people better than most doctors, but half the time she was doing the things that required patching and what not. She patted Miriam’s shoulder and walked past her.

She walked out of the tent and pushed past some of the men that were around. It only has been possibly an hour since Captain America had rescued a group of men that were held prisoner somewhere by the enemy, marching them into the camp. She could hear Colonel Phillips' cuss fragmently as he stormed through the camp when he heard from Howard Stark what he had done yesterday evening. They were busy attending to the men who were injured badly, and it seemed like Odette wasn’t going to get a break just yet.

“That’s the captain’s friend in there,” the redhead smirked, jerking her thumb towards a tent set off to the side, “he’s easy on the eyes.”

Odette rolled her eyes and shook her head; every nurse thought every Joe in the camp they came across was a looker. Not her. It’s not like she wasn’t interested, she just wasn’t in that part of her life right now. Besides, these men might die, and the last thing she wanted was to catch feelings for someone who might not be coming home when this god forsaken war was done. She parted the tent flap and walked in, turning slightly to mentally note what was already in the tent.

“All right soldier,” she smiled softly, turning around to look at who was supposed to be Captain America’s friend, “let’s take a look at you.” Her eyes fell on the man sitting on the cot; he had blood covering his ear and there was bruising along his face. Nothing stood out to her that was life threatening or needing stitches but she stepped forward to assess him further. She tilted her head to the right, looking at his ear more, frowning. “What happened?”

“Not sure a pretty lady like you needs to know,” the brunet replied with a forced smile. She noticed his eyes narrowed as she reached up to gently grasp his chin, turning his head so she could see better.

“I’m a nurse,” she replied simply, her full attention on his ear. Her free hand moved to the small table next to the cot to grab a cotton, dipping it into the small bowl with solution so she could start cleaning the area.

“You’re French.”

“You’re observant.”

She noticed he smiled, making his eyes crinkle: a genuine smile.

“What’s a French dame like you doing in a place like this?”

She scoffed a laugh and shook her head, smirking slightly as he winced when she started to clean his ear. She never engaged in small talk with any of the soldier boys that she treated, maintaining a professional persona and sticking only to the details she needed to know to treat them.

“This is not some corner cafe on a Friday night…” She looked him over and shrugged, opting not to try to identify his rank. “But I do need to know if you are having any pain?”

“No ma’am,” he replied, the smile broadening slightly. “It’s Sergeant James Barnes, Miss…” He turned slightly, holding his hand out to you.

She shook her head and laughed, taking his hand for a shake. “Odette. Just Odette.”

“Nice to meet you, Just Odette.”

“You think the sass is cute.”

“I’m adorable.” He winced again when she started to clear the blood away from the inner part of his ear. He mumbled something that sounded like a curse and took a deep breath. “That stings a bit.”

“Did you get hit in the head?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she leaned in to look at the wound better. “Your vision is the same? No headaches? Nausea?”

“Odette, you really don’t want to know,” he sighed, pulling his head away from her to stand up. Her hand caught his shoulder and she pushed him to sit again.

“If you want to go back to fighting Nazis, then you will sit and answer my questions as I look you over, understand Sergeant?” She couldn’t believe some men tried to dismiss any medical care when it came to this bloody war.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied submissively, his hands falling into his lap.

“Odette, please. Ma’am makes me feel old,” she teased, turning his head upwards so she could get a look at the abrasions and bruises on his face. “What on earth have these monsters done to you and your unit? I swear some of the things they are doing are barbaric and need to end.”

“You have no idea,” the sergeant muttered.

"If this was any worse, it could have killed you days later."

"What doesn't kill me just makes me mad," he replied under his breath.

A silence fell between them, his eyes avoiding her everytime she looked at him. She leaned in to clean the dried blood from his neck, and she noticed he inhaled deeply then stiffen, making her smile to herself.

“That’s an interesting perfume to wear around the men.” His voice was low and soft, but the words had made her still. The sharp intake of breath and stillness wasn’t from pain but from him smelling her? “That’s a very sensual smell.”

“I-it was a gift from my mother before I left,” she replied carefully, the words fumbling a bit from her lips. “Reminds me of home. Ever been to France, Sergeant Barnes?”

“I do now,” he smirked. She saw his fingers curl under his palms, his body shifting slightly to lean into her touch when her fingers brushed along the bruise on his cheek. He fell silent and let her finish cleaning him up, his body stiffening every so often when she would get closer to him.

He was the first Joe to be respectful of her. Sure he had called her a dame and flirted with her a bit, but he never once touched her once. He still wouldn’t answer her questions about what caused the injuries to his face, and adamantly denied that there was anything else wrong. After everything, she figured the camp’s doctor wanted her to attend to James Barnes because the other nurses would fawn over him and fall to his charms, but she would be lying if they didn’t make her blush slightly on the inside.

She heard the tent flap open and she turned her head slightly to see that Captain America had walked in.

“All right, Sergeant. Just take it easy the next few days,” she addressed him, smiling, but turned to the blonde soldier with a narrowed gaze. “You’re not superhuman like your friend here.”

“Don’t worry Odette,” he replied, emphasizing on her name, and gave her a smug look, “and maybe you can show me around France after all this is done.”

Briony’s head hurt and her body ached. She was laying on something hard and cold, and she squeezed her eyes tight as blinding pain erupted from her body as when she moved. Her hand felt beneath her: cold and rough.

Shit, did I fall last night after bar?

She didn’t think she had that much to drink, but she didn’t remember leaving or driving home. Behind her closed eyes she sensed it was still dark and it felt dank.

Must have passed out in the garage.

She reached for where she knew something should have been, but there was nothing. Her eyes peeled open slowly only to be met with almost complete darkness, save for the small window across the way that let in a dim, orange glow.

What. The. Fuck.

Briony sat up, her whole body protesting to the movement, but she needed to see where the hell she was. Her eyes scanned over the area, trying her best to ignore the screaming pain she was feeling in her head; there was nothing to tell her where she was.

Maybe a basement?

She finally looked down at herself. She was still wearing her outfit from when she was at the bar: maroon blouse and a black pencil skirt and kitten heels, her typical office attire. But something new caught her eye in the dimly lit room. A small black string that was tied around her ankle. She leaned forward as best as she could to see it better, it was definitely something she never had on before. Her fingers grazed over it, the feeling more metallic than cotton string she initially thought.

Just as she was about to check the rest of her body for weird things that were added, there was a sound at the door: keys rattling, the telltale sign of someone inserting the key into the lock, then the click. Light poured into the room with such brightness that Briony shielded her eyes with her hand. She peeked between her fingers to see two people in the doorway, backlit by the strange orange light.

Jesus Christ, did I get abducted by aliens? She thought, her body instantly moving backwards, her shoes falling off in the weird back crawl she did.

"Komandir podaril yeye tebe, Soldat,” one of the men said roughly in a language that Briony could not place, then he laughed, the sound empty and mean.

“Spasibo,” the other stated, his voice more robotic and unfeeling, which made Briony’s stomach drop. She could see the one that was closer to, what she believed to be, the hallway move around the other man, his frame still a silhouette in the orange light.

The man that was still rooted by the door, chuckled darkly. “Be good, Soldat, we will not replace her.” He continued to chuckle as he closed the door and Briony could hear the lock click over.

Her eyes didn’t leave the man in front of her in the now darkened room. She could barely make out details, but it seemed like he was clad in leather and bulky clothing. She shifted more, her back hitting a wall of uneven stones.

“Don’t touch me,” she forced out, hoping she sounded strong, but her voice was feeble and wavered and her heart raced as the man took a step forward. She wanted to scream, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, plus she had a feeling no one could hear her.

“Ya ne sobirayus' prichinyat' tebe bol',” he said, his voice still sounded robotic, but there seemed to be more feeling to his words, but they were words that didn’t make sense to him.

“I-I-I’m s-sorry, I d-don’t understand y-you,” she stammered, bringing her knees to her chest as she looked at him, trying to swallow her fear. Losing her mind wasn’t going to get her out of there, at least that's what all those crime shows she watched said. She swallowed hard, and took a deep breath before going on. “I only speak English. D-do you?”

The man cocked his head to the side, but she couldn’t make out his face.

“Yes.”

The word was hard, like it was difficult for him to form it in his mouth.

“I have family…”

“No.”

She blanched at the interruption. How could he know she didn’t have any family?

“H-have y-you been w-watching me?” Her stomach lurched at the possible answer.

“They have,” he replied simply. “They want me to have a woman.”

“Why?”

He stepped forward and the fear started to rise in her again, but she had nowhere to go, so she stayed as he stopped in front of her now bare feet and squatted down. It was the first time she could finally see his face: dull, blue eyes, full mouth, and scruff along his jaw; his hair seemed dirty, the long, dark strands falling forward as he leaned in. She could see what was a battle in his eyes happening.

“I don’t want you,” he stated, his mouth pulling to a thin line, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A wave of calm washed over Briony at his words, but it didn’t help her predicament at all. “Then let me go. Please. My name is Briony, I’m from Brooklyn and I have a cat named Tulip. Please, if you don’t want me…” His brow furrowed deeply when she said Brooklyn and she noticed his shoulders tighten slightly. “Are you from Brooklyn?” she asked softly, her curiosity getting the best of her, wanting to know why that words made his demeanor different.

There was no answer. He just glowered at her, not moving a muscle. It was unnerving to her.

“Have you seen the Brooklyn bridge? It’s pretty neat,” she started, her body shifting to the right so he wasn’t in front of her, but his hand shot out and blocked her path and that’s when she noticed his hand was shiny, gleaming silver in the little light in the room, making bile rose in her throat.

“What in the —”

“Brooklyn was...home,” he replied, lowering his hand from the wall, “I think.”

“Please, just let me go. You said you didn’t want me,” she pleaded this time, her body pressing further into the stone wall. Tears welled up in her eyes, the sight of his unnatural hand and wrist made the terror rise in her again.

“I can’t,” he replied, and she swore she could see almost hurt in his eyes. “They will kill you if I did.”

Briony’s heart stopped. She was either going to be a hostage for life or she was going to die, and she was supposed to be this man’s woman? She turned her head and threw up onto the floor, her hand coming up to wipe her mouth, but he had reached out and did so with his gloved hand.

“I can’t promise you I’ll always be the same, but I will protect you from them.” It was the oddest statement, but the touch he gave her was almost soft. “But there are things they want me to do that I don’t want to, but I have to. I’ll try to explain later.” His gloved hand moved to her ankle, brushing the black string like bracelet there. “Don’t try to remove it, it won’t come off.”

She looked up from her spot on the couch, the two men looking sullen at one another. The silence was deafening to her, making her ears buzz with the white noise around them. Neither Bucky nor Steve had said a word for over eight minutes, as she kept checking her watch. It wasn't like she was expecting to get caught, even though they were best friends. She had told both of them she didn't want to be exclusive nor did she say anything about wanting to be public as they were very well known men. Besides, both men had said they didn't want anyone else to know either. It boggled her mind that they were pissy to find out that she was both of them, but neither knew. She knew each had a key to the other's apartments, but in the four months of being with both men, she was never around when the other visited. The only reason why they were in this predicament was because Steve walked into Bucky’s apartment while she was straddling the latter, preoccupied in a heated kiss with Bucky.

She could see Steve's jaw clenching as Bucky sighed with a shake of his head. She could see the hurt in the brunette face and the betrayal in the blond's. She didn't know who was the cause of those emotions, even though deep down she knew it was her. Hell, last week Steve said the damn four lettered word to her after a night of toe curling sex, and that he would wait for however long it would take for her to say it back. And Bucky? Well, he wormed his way into her closed off heart. She was still in her head when Steve spoke, only hearing the sound but not the words.

"Hmm?" She didn’t mean to sound detached or cold, considering she was the one that wasn’t finding this situation to be nearly as dire as these two were, but what was going on right now was more about them than her.

“I asked if you are going to choose?” His blue eyes were pleading as his mouth set into a line. She could see Bucky’s eyes flit to her before looking out the window again.

“Steve, I told you before, and Bucky, I don’t want exclusivity,” she sighed, slightly irritated. “I even made it clear that I wasn’t looking for monogamy.”

“But you chose my best friend?” Bucky asked, his voice barely audible. The look on his face broke her heart, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t catch feelings for the brunet. Not like she didn’t like Steve, but his broody friend was something she couldn’t put her finger on.

“I didn’t choose him because he’s your bestie, Buck,” she shrugged, “it happened.” She stood up, adjusted her sweater and grabbed her bag off the coffee table. “Listen, you two figure out what you want. If you want things to end, I’ll understand. But remember, you both knew of my terms before we got anywhere past a first date. I never hid from you that I wasn’t seeing others, and I was honest with you both when I said I keep things safe. You both get back to me when you know what you want. I like you both, wouldn’t mind still being with you both, but it’s in your hands if you want to see me.”