#cricket-reader

She cringes when the door to her room bursts open. “Help! I’m sorry to wake you, but I need your help!” Tony cries out.

Tears well up in her eyes. She just wants to rest. She can’t take it anymore.

“It’s the kid, he got beat up real bad. We think he fractured his ribs.”

She slowly raises from her spot on the bed, leaving the comfort of snuggling into her warm blankets. “Where is he?” She weakly mutters, not having the energy to put her usual sunny disposition into her words.

“He passed out on the couch,” he informs her, already striding back to the common room. She limps her way to the common room. Normally she tries to hide her pain, but after this week’s missions, she can’t find it in her.

Luckily, no one else is in the common room. It’s just a barely cognisant kid, and a person that’s too preoccupied with the kid’s health to care about anything else. She falls ungracefully to her knees, cringing as her knees meet the floor. Her hands hover over Peter’s body before she takes a breath and makes contact with him. Immediately a sharp pain grows in her ribs. Tears gather in her eyes as she continues to take away his pain.

Her head is pounding and her ribs ache. It hurts so bad. This is even worse than when her father and his friends would use her after getting into bar fights. She knew what she was signing up for, but this… this is a little too much.

When Peter gasps awake, she plops down and rests her head against the couch cushion. Tears roll down her face before she turns to cover her face with the couch. Breaths becoming laboured, she can’t hold in the whimper that escapes her mouth.

How is she going to get back to her room? How’s she going to get out of this without getting caught? The Avengers aren’t stupid. They’re going to notice that something is off. Then they’re going to make her stop healing them because they are all too good to take advantage of her. And since she’ll be of no use to them, they’ll kick her out. She doesn’t want to leave. She can’t leave her family. The only family that has genuinely seemed to care for her.

“Hey, you alright?” Peter’s soft voice breaks her out of her racing thoughts. She nearly cries at the kindness in his voice. No one else cared to ask her that question when they noticed she was in pain. In fact, her father and her friends seemed to enjoy watching her in pain. It wasn’t fair, but she knew how life worked.

“I’m fine,” she mutters, straining against the stabbing pain in her ribs with every breath. Peter takes her head in his hands and gently lifts it from the couch so his kind eyes meet hers. Her head pounds and she wishes that he couldn’t see her like this. So weak. A superhero like him would probably laugh at her for being so weak. It’s not like she’s the one taking those punches. She wasn’t the one taking the beatings and saving the world. She just took the pain away.

“No you’re not. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?” Peter sounds so concerned, his eyes raking over her body looking for any signs of abuse.

“No, everything is fine, Peter.”

He squints his eyes at her, his sensitive hearing picking up her laborious breaths and small whimpers. “Who hurt you?” He jumps off of the couch ready to beat anyone that dared touch his precious …friend. Nothing else. Just a really good friend.

“No one, Pete, just… just forget about it okay? I’m fine.”

“Stop saying that! You’re in pain!” Peter frowns, visibly upset at the fact that she keeps lying to him. He thought they were close. He thought she trusted him. It hurts to know that she doesn’t.

“I’m used to it, it’s fine,” she mumbles, head plopping back into the couch. Peter’s brow furrows, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut.

“What do you mean you’re used to it?”

He watches her huff out a big breath before winching and clutching her ribs. The puzzle pieces finally click into place. It’s as if everything suddenly became clear with just one miniscule movement. Eyes widening, he strides over to her. Peter squats down to be level with her, his face dead serious.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? It hurts you to use your powers, doesn’t it?”

Tears fall down her flushed cheeks, and she curses under her breath. They were bound to find out sooner than later, she had just hoped for the latter. “I was helping,” she whines, trying to prove her worthiness. She was doing something good, he can’t possibly get mad at her for that, can he?

“At the expense of yourself!” Peter yells, frustrated that he allowed her to take his pain and make it her own.

“Well, the pain has to go somewhere!” She fires back, angry that he isn’t grateful. After all she’s done she didn’t think he’d be yelling at her. She hasn’t done anything wrong. She helped them so much.

“You shouldn’t have to be in pain because of us,” he argues, standing to pace. All of this information changes things. How many times has she saved someone this week alone? How much pain must she be in? What has she had to silently suffer through?

“Give me my pain back,” Peter orders, not wanting her to have his pain anymore. Guilt weighs on his consciousness now that he knows she is feeling his fractured rib and concussion.

“That’s not how that works Peter.”

“God dammit! Why didn’t you tell us!”

Her eyes pop out of her head. She’s never heard him this upset before. He’s never been this angry. The fact that she caused it only makes her feel worse.

“Because I knew this would happen!” She cries. “I knew you guys would be mad and kick me out! I deserve a place here after everything I’ve done. I don’t want to leave!”

“You can’t keep taking other people’s pain,” he frowns, dead set on conveying this to her.

“Yes I can. I’m helping! I’m doing something good! Why don’t you understand that? Why can’t you appreciate the fact that I am willing to help you guys?”

“Because, you’re not supposed to get hurt doing it!”

“What is going on out here?” Steve, Bucky, Sam, Clint, and Natasha walk in having just finished training. She sends Peter a death glare, daring him to say anything.

Although he sees her intimidating stare, Peter doesn’t care. This has to end now.

“The pain doesn’t just go away,” he explains, “every time she heals us, the pain is transferred to her. She takes all the pain for us.”

Steve furrows his brows, his serious concerned mama bear face on. Crossing his arms and stepping forward, he asks, “is this true?”

“N-no! Of course not!” She lies. Her eyes flit around the people in the room, heart beating faster.

“She’s lying, she probably can’t even stand up right now because she is in so much pain,” Peter confidently states.

Narrowing her eyes at Peter, she swears to kill him in his sleep. How dare he tattle on her? “That’s not true! He’s making this all up,” she protests, trying to make her voice sound strong.

“Then stand up,” Natasha challenges, one of her perfect brows raising.

Cursing under her breath, she places a hand on the couch to try and push off the ground. Grimacing, she grits her teeth and tries to lift her body off the ground. Breathing heavily, she uses her other hand to try and get into a standing position. Whimpers, so quiet that only the enhanced are able to hear, escape from her as she struggles to stand.

Peter is by her side in an instant, not willing to watch her put herself through more pain. “That’s enough,” he mutters, fed up with her disregard for her own well-being. Why is she being so careless?

Steve frowns as he quietly talks to the people around him. She can feel his disappointed countenance chipping at her soul. He has that effect on people. She never wanted to disappoint her heroes. She can take it, she just needs some rest, and she’ll be fine.

“We can’t continue to let you heal us.” Is the verdict that Steve murmurs, upset by how long this has been going on. How could no one have noticed? How could they have been so careless as to think that the pain just magically went away?

He’s disappointed. Disappointed in himself for not noticing sooner, disappointed in himself for letting a mere kid take all of his pain and suffering that he should have just endured. Why did she never say anything?

“You’re released from duty,” Steve concludes, standing up to leave the room. He can’t stand looking at her, now knowing all of the pain he has caused her.

“Captain, please. Don’t do this! I was helping!” She protests with everything left in her. She doesn’t want to leave her family. She doesn’t want them to get hurt or die. Not when she has the ability to save them.

“Enough!” Steve bellows, stopping in his tracks. “You’re out of here, got it?”

Tears well up in her eyes and her lip starts to wobble. Steve had never used a tone like that with her before. It hurts. “So what? You’re just letting me go now that you have no use for me?”

Steve falters. That’s most certainly not what he meant.

“You’re just like my dad!”

A sentence that cuts deeper than any stab wounds he’s ever received. She’s told him about her home life, about her piece of shit father. And to be compared to him makes his soul break.

Calling out her name as she pushes past him, he desperately tries to right this wrong. She doesn’t stop, though. She keeps running, tears cascading down her face.

Running a hand through his hair, he curses. This is not how it should have panned out. All he wanted was to make sure that she’s safe and out of harm's way. He didn’t want to be the one to harm her. In fact, that’s the last thing he wanted to do. What, after all she’s been through, she deserves better.

“Let me,” Peter says, stopping Steve from running after her. Steve aquieses, figuring it would be better if he could calm down before talking to her. He’s just so upset that he’s been passing off his pain to a literal child. Okay, maybe she’s not a child, but she might as well be one for fucks sake.

“What do you want?” Peter cringes at her angered tone, a twinge of hurt underlying it. She still has tears in her eyes as she rushes to pack her clothes in a duffle she had sitting unused in her closet.

“Steve didn’t mean what he said. He’s upset that you lied to him—to all of us.”

She scoffs, harshly shoving the clothes in the bag. She whimpers, realising that probably wasn’t the best decision with all of the injuries she is dealing with right now. Peter rushes to have her in his arms. He sits down on the ground, gently pulling her with him. “You gotta stop hurting yourself, sweetheart.”

She grumbles in his arms, trying to get out of his grasp. Peter just shakes his head at how stubborn she is. She’ll be the death of him, he’s sure about that.

“Why do you care?” She mutters out, anger and resentment lacing her tone. She doesn’t want to believe that anyone can care about her. Whenever she thinks that, she always gets hurt. No one cares about her. The only reason people act nice to her is because they want to use her powers to heal themselves.

“Because… you’ve been hurting yourself for far too long,” he murmurs, relaxing his hold now that she isn’t trying to squirm away.

“I just want to be wanted,” her voice is muffled with the sound of her small cries. Tears stream down her face, and she curls up into Peter’s warm embrace. He sighs and runs his hand gently through her hair, careful not to make her headache worse.

“You are,” he speaks under his breath. “Everyone here genuinely cares for you in their own way. You are so important to me… to all of us.”

She muffles a sob against his shirt. “You… you don’t mean that…”

“I do. I mean every word of it. You matter to me. You matter so much.”

Peter keeps on mumbling little words of praise and encouragement as she falls asleep in his arms. He will let her know what she is worth. No matter how long it takes. She deserves the world.

Her eyes sweep the room, looking for anyone suspicious as she takes a light sip of the drink. It tastes different than she’s used to, but she supposes that’s because there’s no alcohol in it. Plus, she has never been to this bar before. Most small owned bars are different. This one just seems like any other normal, run down dive bar.

She wonders how long this mission will take. She had plans to curl up and watch a movie or show after. She doesn’t want to have to reschedule.

There’s nothing to note within the first twenty minutes of her sitting at the bar, so she takes her half-finished drink and wanders around.

It’s a quaint little place, televisions on each corner showing off the latest American football game. There is plenty of sports memorabilia hung on the walls like any other bar she’s been to. Most of the tables are sticky, the place having been too busy for the employees to make their rounds. No one seems to mind, though.

The patrons are mostly college boys and middle aged men. A few are older people who look like retired soldiers. She does her best to ignore them.

There’s a group of people gathered around one of the televisions in the corner, cheering on one of the teams.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is dark. Lit only by the light from the main room and some neon signs hung up. She gets chills walking down it and momentarily wishes she had brought a jacket with her.

The air is cool enough now to cause goosebumps to appear on her arms.

Suddenly, Her vision sways in and out as she stumbles down the hallway. Something is wrong. She should tell the others, but her arm feels so heavy. If she could just lift it to her ear to talk into her comm. Black creeps in the corners of her vision and she crashes into a wall. Using it to keep her upright, she groans. What’s happening?

She leans forward, clutching the wall, and slides slowly down until she comes to a stop in a sitting position. She closes her eyes and waits for the pain to pass. It’s still there, though. There's something about being in the dark all alone that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She tries to call out for help, but she's unable to get her vocal cords working. Instead, there's another groan.

The last thing she sees before blacking out are a pair of clean black boots making their way towards her. She doesn’t have the cognisance to be concerned.

When she wakes up, the first thing she notices is that she is sitting up. The second thing she notices is the killer headache pounding in her skull. The third thing is that her hands are bound behind her back and she is in a strange room she has never seen before. Panic grips at her chest as her eyes dart around the room. Where is she? Where is the team? Why haven’t they come for her? What happened?

It feels like hours pass before the only door opens. She instantly looks up at her captor and glares at him.

“Good to see you’re awake!” He smiles, unaffected by her glare. “We just have some questions for you and then we’ll send you on your way.”

She narrows her eyes. This isn’t normal. She was informed that this man is supposed to be a human trafficker. He’s not going to let her go.

“Who do you work for, sweetheart?” He questions. His voice is so saccharinely sweet that it disgusts her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, implementing her years of acting experience to sound distressed and helpless.

He hums, “I think you do, sweet thing.”

“Please, let me go! I don’t have anything for you!”

A burning pain meets her right cheek and her head is whipped to the left. “Don’t play with me, sweetheart. I know who you are.”

“Then why bother asking?”

Her annoyingly unamused voice angers him. The fact that she is being a smartass makes him want to hit her again. Stupid woman, he thinks.

“Shut up and tell me everything you know!” He bellows, his voice filling the room.

“That’s a bit of a contradiction, don’t you think?” She innocently asks, smirking. She knows how to push his buttons. It’s not hard. He’s a typical short-fused man. Another slap meets her face, but she isn’t even mad. She thought it was funny.

“Just fucking tell me everything you know about the Avengers, now!” He bellows, getting in her face. She cringes at the rotten smell coming from his mouth filled with yellow teeth.

“Alright! Fine!” She acquiesces. “Hmm… Well, Sam and Bucky are always bickering like a married couple, Tony spends all of his time in his lab, Bruce is really sweet, Natasha is actually super cool which I wasn’t expecting; I was actually kinda scared to meet her because she’s so badass, but she’s super awesome.”

The man punches her in the face, having enough of her bullshit. “You know what I mean, bitch!”

“Do I?” She questions only to receive another punch, this time to her stomach.

She doubles over, grabbing her ribs. “Okay, okay, alright, I get it! You don’t want to hear my stupid rants!“

“Why did they send you to that bar?”

“Because you’re trafficking women, duh,” she rolls her eyes as if it were the most obvious answer ever— it kind of is, though.

“Who fucking told you?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I just do the missions.”

He squints his beady little eyes at her. He hates how she isn’t scared. She is acting as if she’s just having a nice conversation, not tied up and beaten down. He wants the usual terror he is met with when he drugs and kidnaps girls. He loves seeing their fear. She isn’t giving him what he wants.

After several seconds of silence and glaring at her, he sighs deeply. “Fine, fine, I suppose you won’t tell me either way. But I will make you talk one way or another.”

She watches him leave the room and sighs. So much for her plans of relaxing.

He returns a couple more times. Each one leaving her with more bruises than she had before. The one time he went a bit overboard and accidentally fractured one of her ribs. After that, he is gracious enough to leave her alone for a long time, not that she can tell, but the bruises do start to slowly heal

The next time the man enters the room, he has brought a box with him.

She knows that whatever is in the box is not good. It doesn’t take a genius to guess it will contain things made to hurt people. Her heart rate picks up as she sits tense against the chair.

She can feel her throat tighten, her breathing become shallow and fast as she stares at the box. There are many possibilities running through her mind as to what will happen when he opens the box.

He sets the box on the table and pulls open the lid. Inside lies an array of knives and scalpels. There’s also a whip and a collar that she can only assume is charged to shock. She swallows heavily as he removes the contents of the box and sets them aside. Then, he turns back to her.

“Now,” he says. “This is going to hurt unless you start talking.”

Of course, she refuses to give him anything. She’d rather die than betray her team

The cuts he makes on her thighs ache. “Seems like this isn’t the first time this has happened, huh?” The man grins, noticing her scarred thighs.

She grits her teeth as he pulls the blade down her thigh again. “No shit, Sherlock. At least the other time I was the one with the blade in my hand

“Shame, you’d look better without them.”

Once he finishes, he holds up a bottle. “Drink.”

She ignores him, not wanting to drink anything given that it’s probably laced with something. She’ll probably just puke it up anyway. That’s what happened last time.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” she responds dryly.

He chuckles and grabs her chin. “Maybe if you tell me what I want to know, I won’t have to ruin more of your pretty skin.”

She glares at him. She doesn't want anything to do with this evil man. She’d never give up information about her family. Never.

“Well?” He growls menacingly.

“There’s no information to give!” She yells through clenched teeth. She doesn’t care if he hurts her. Nothing can make her talk.

“Oh, but there is,” He squints his eyes as he moves to the weapons.

Setting down the knife, he makes a show of contemplating what to do next. “Maybe I should collar you like the bitch you are.”

She glares at him as he hears her, shock collar in hand. When he reaches her, she struggles against the restraints, craning her neck every which way to try and avoid it.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. The collar is fastened around her neck and there is nothing she can do about it. She closes her eyes tightly waiting for it to begin.

The feeling of the cuts stinging and blood pooling from her wounds is all-consuming. She tries to hold in her cries, but a choked sob escapes. She feels so pathetic as tears roll down her cheeks and drip onto the floor below her.

The man chuckles in delight, seeing the tears fall down her pretty face.

“All of this could just stop if you give me what I want, pretty girl,” he sneers, brushing a piece of her hair out of her face.

“Never,” she mutters, pulling away from his hand. The man sighs before pressing a button. Within seconds a white hot pain shoots through her body. It feels like her bones are vibrating. Her body convulses a little, and she scrunches her eyes. Blood drips down from her lip where she had bitten it so hard.

He watches her struggle for control, his smirk growing wider by the second.

After a few moments of excruciating torture, the pain finally ends. Black dots cover the corners of her vision before she passes out cold.

When she awakens all she feels is pain. The cuts on her thighs sting and she can still feel the collar digging into her neck.

She groans in discomfort and slowly opens her eyes. She’s sitting on a small bed, surrounded by white walls with a door at the end. Why had she been moved? Tears gather in her eyes when she tries to sit up. She doesn’t try again, knowing she is too weak. She has her limits. She’s no supersoldier.

She takes a minute to regain her breathing. The pain starts to subside a little, but not fully. She looks down, finding bandages around her legs. At least he has the decency to patch me up, I guess.

She shrinks in on herself when the sound of the door opening breaks her from her thoughts.

“Oh good, you’re awake! Maybe now you’ll have some answers for me?”

“Go fuck yourself,” she angrily growls.

“That’s not very nice, now is it, dearie? Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?” He admonishes her, taking out something from the box that he had moved into the room with her.

“I don’t have to respect an asshole like you,” she retorts, pulling on the collar. It feels suffocating. Her stomach drops when he turns around. Now she sees what is in his hands.

A whip.

One of the flesh-tearing whips that she had seen on multiple missions. She’d never seen one in action, but she had seen victims of them. They had welts running all the way up their backs. Some even had them on their legs. It made her nauseous at the time. Seeing it in his hand now causes her entire stomach to churn.

“Sit up, now,” he demands harshly.

Her eyes widen in fear. This can’t be happening. Someone will save her before he gets to her. They have to. they must be looking for her. Surely soon enough Tony or Steve will barge into the room and save her. They have to.

Right?

If they are looking for her then why haven’t they found her yet? Why haven’t they come after her?

“Get up,” he snaps, grabbing her arm roughly.

She winces in pain as he yanks her up. She falls forward, landing on her knees. She looks up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

“You’re going to tell me everything I want to know,” he persists. “Now!”

She whimpers in fear. No one is coming to save her. She is alone.

The first lash feels like fire. She screams as it tears into her skin. Her whole body shakes violently and she curls up in a ball on the floor. The tears flow freely as agony fills her soul. Her breaths are short and ragged as he winds up for another blow. Tears freely fall from her face, but she could care less right now. The pain is all consuming.

She lost count of how many times that whip came into contact with her back. The man had left her lying on the ground in the same position he had flogged her in. It felt like her back was on fire. Each lash left behind a fresh set of angry red marks, making her bleed profusely.

The pain eventually fades though, replaced with numbness. By the end, she wasn’t really sure whether the pain was real or not anymore. She felt so detached, almost like she was watching her life from afar.

It didn’t matter. Everything seemed so trivial, even the pain. All she wanted to do was sleep. But she couldn’t. The pain was keeping her awake.

The door opens again, and she isn’t able to hold back her sob. It’s too soon for him to be back. He didn’t even let her recover. Hurting her now would be like kicking a dead horse.

Some muffled curse barely reaches her ears as she goes into a state of hypovolemic shock.

She hears her name being called and confusion wraps around her brain. The man had never used her name before. He always just called her all those stupid pet names. As soon as she saw blond hair and a muscular body, she knew she had to be hallucinating.

No one is coming for her. Not even her best friend Steve Rogers. But he looks so real. If only he were, she muses before passing out.

When she wakes up again, she is in a different room. She feels like crying. Are the punishments going to be worse? How much worse can it get?

But then she realises a few things.

The weight of the collar she had gotten used to is gone. She isn’t bound or tied up in any way. There’s also the steady beeping of a heart monitor next to her.

Blinking her eyes to get adjusted to the daylight, she looks around with a sense of clarity. This place is familiar. It’s a med room. She’s back at the tower. She’s not under the clutches of that man anymore.

She nearly sobs with relief.

turning to look out the window, she is shocked to see Steve sitting by her side. His eyes are shut, and he’s sleeping as best he can in the small chair.

She looks over to the door, wondering how long he has been here. How long has she been unconscious? How long had she been held captive for?

Her mind reels. Everything is a blur. She doesn’t know how long it’s been since the undercover mission, but she guesses it’s been awhile.

She shifts slightly, wincing as the movement hurts. She reaches down rubbing her wrists where the cuffs had chafed her. The man had clearly done his job well; she’s bruised and battered.

His words come back to her. The ones about how she’d be prettier if only she wasn’t marred with scars. She can’t help but worry if the team will think the same. She wouldn’t blame them at all.

A shiver runs up her spine at the thought of having Steve look at her like that. Her heart tightens painfully in her chest.

She looks over to Steve again. He shifts and blinks his eyes open.

They settle on her and he immediately springs up from the chair.

“Hey, honey, do you need anything?” He asks, standing right next to the bed and putting his hand on the bed.

“No.” Her throat feels dry and cracked. “Okay, maybe some water.”

Steve nods and rushes off to get her a glass of water as if he weren’t worried sick about her condition when the last time he saw her she was practically lifeless on the floor of an abandoned building.

He places the glass on the table next to her and helps her sit up straighter. He gives her the glass to drink from before gently pushing her back against the pillow.

"Here."

She gratefully takes a sip, not knowing the last time she had drank anything that wasn’t drugged. “Thank you,” she murmurs, shifting in place. Steve winces upon hearing her whine and seeing her grimace of pain. He can’t imagine how her back must be feeling right now.

“I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner. We should have known something was wrong when you didn’t come back from the hallway, I should’ve-”

“Steve, it’s okay. You got him right? The women are safe, aren’t they?” She interrupts him, not wanting him to blame himself for her injuries.

“They’re fine… well as fine as they can be.” He sighs. “None of them got as banged up as you, though.”

She frowns slightly, not understanding why that matters so much. The most important thing is that the women are all safe.

“They’ll get better soon. The doctors said so,” he promises. “You should rest now. Get some sleep. We called for Dr. Cho to get the cradle as soon as possible.”

Nodding her head weakly, she lets him wrap the blanket around her as tightly as possible. He leans over to kiss her forehead and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. She doesn’t want to rest, though. She’s been asleep for long enough. She just wants to do something.

To do something besides wait for the doctor to return.

She can’t do anything, and she hates it. Her whole body burns from the pain. Every movement seems to cause her physical ache tenfold. Even breathing causes her a great amount of pain. The last thing she needs is to make herself even more nauseous by moving her sore body.

So instead she sits there staring off into space, wishing she had someone or something to keep her occupied.

Luckily, Steve doesn’t take long before he’s back. He’s carrying some lightly buttered toast, not wanting to upset her stomach too much.

“Cho should be here soon.”

She nods as she takes the plate That is offered to her. Steve drags the chair over to her and sits down. Folding his hands together, he stares at them. He’s not sure what to say.

“Do you think scars are ugly?”

Steve’s head pops up. His brows are furrowed at the random question. “What do you mean?”

She sighs. “Do you think my scars make me look ugly?”

She looks up at him and sees the offended look on his face. “You? Ugly? I’m sorry, there has to be a mistake. No woman who looks as beautiful as you could possibly be ugly. I think your face is perfect. Your smile is breathtaking. You’re kind and loving. And everyone loves you because of that. Everyone adores you! They don’t just love your face. They love your personality as well, you know,” he stops his rambling and turns red when he hears her giggles at him. He might have gone a bit overboard. He wishes he could just know when to shut up. He made a fool out of himself.

He clears his throat awkwardly while trying to hide his embarrassment.

“I love your smile,” she says softly, causing his cheeks to grow even warmer.

“Oh. Thank you.” He’s looking away again, trying desperately to keep control of his rapidly beating heart. He’s never been great with girls. Especially pretty girls. She isn’t just pretty, though. She’s breathtaking. The most beautiful girl he’s ever had the privilege of seeing.

Snapping them out of their intimate moment, the door opens to reveal Cho.

Steve bids her fair well, promising to be there when she awakens. She quietly says her own goodbye, hoping that Steve will forget all about that embarrassing comment she made.

When she gets out of the cradle, Steve is sitting with her just as promised. He is drawing in his sketchbook. He looks up when he hears her shift on the bed. His eyes light up, seeing hers looking at him.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Steve asks, setting the book down on the table next to him.

She shrugs, “I’m good. How long have you been here?”

“Too long.” He stretches and yawns. She giggles, knowing full well that he didn’t have to stay but was too stubborn to leave.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Some coffee? I brought some breakfast, I figured you’d want some.”

She shakes her head, not wanting any food. She just knows she would throw up if she were to try to eat anything. “Just a glass of water would be nice.”

He nods. Grabbing the empty pitcher from the nearby table, he goes to the kitchen to fill it up with water.

When he returns, he sets the glass of water on the nightstand and walks over to the bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches her carefully as she gulps down the water. She smiles once she finishes drinking and closes her eyes. She rests her head back against the pillows, her arm still resting over her eyes to protect them.

The silence between them is comforting as Steve continues watching her, wondering what he can do to make her feel better. What he can do to comfort her. What all did that man do to her? He doesn’t want to ask, not wanting her to have to relive any experiences she went through. He’d do anything to help her, though. She deserves that and so much more.

“You wanna watch a movie with me?” She asks. “I never did get my post-mission relaxation in.”

Side of the Road 💔✨ (incomplete series)

Whilst driving home from their flopped mission, the Avengers find a women on the side of the road, badly injured. They bring her to the compound to help her.

Christmastime 💕

Expecting to be alone this Christmas, Bucky is pleasantly surprised when a certain someone shows up at his door bringing festive holiday cheer.

Stowaway 💔(💕?)

Bucky takes home a woman he found whilst out on a mission. Quickly he learns that it might have been too rash of a decision to make. (March Trope-a-Thon day 2)

Your Warmth 💔💕❤️‍🔥✨

Stuck in a snowstorm, she doubts she’ll make it out alive. What happens when an unexpected person rescues her from the storm? (March Trope-a-Thon day 1)

Agony 💔💕

Bucky ’s girlfriend is sick and in a lot of pain. He just wants to make her feel better. (Whumpril day 4)

You Got It Easy 💔💕✨

Whilst in an argument, Bucky says something that he will always regret.

Treasures Left Unprotected… 💔

Bucky remembers someone from his time at Hydra in a nightmare and goes to find them. (June of Doom day 2)

Mutual Agreement 💔💕

whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health. (June of Doom day 4)

Selfish Touch 💕💔

Bucky is scared to have you stay the night, terrified that he’ll hurt you. You assure him that it’ll be okay. (June of Doom day 6)

Something in Common 💔💕

you get captured and held in captivity. Bucky finds you and has an argument with your dad, Tony. Later, Bucky confesses his feelings for you. (June of Doom day 8)

Broken Promises 💔💕✨

the asset had promised you that he would save you, that he’d come back for you if he ever managed to escape. He didn’t come back for you. Something that both of you needed to work through if you ever wanted to heal. (June of Doom day 13)

Don’t Leave Me 💔

Safe and Sound 💔💕✨

you and Bucky were out on a date. Everything went wrong so quickly. (June of Doom day 15)

Bucky finds you. Everything goes wrong so quickly. Can Bucky forgive himself for something he blames himself for? (June of Doom day 16)

Sabotage 💔💕

after a particularly rough mission and some gaslighting, you’re there to help Bucky pick up the pieces. (June of Doom day 17)

The Fall 💔💕

Bucky remembers the fall (June of Doom day 18)

Prince Charming 💔💕

Bucky is confused as to how you have been able to keep your abusive relationship from him for so long. (June of Doom day 29)

Easy A 💔💕

after a truly awful date, you are comforted by Bucky. (High School AU)

Picking Up the Pieces 💔💕

Bucky’s girlfriend was on a business trip to New York when the void enveloped the city. Memories hidden deep in her mind surface, and Bucky is left to pick up the pieces. (June of Doom day 1)

Glass Hours 💔💕

after a series of awful dates, Bucky is fed up with the way each man leaves her bruised. He gets a call late one night and doesn't hesitate to be there for her. Something fragile blooms that night, beautiful as the first snowdrop flowers after a long winter. (June of Doom day 2)

We Were Born Sick 💔💕✨

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers know that their love is wrong. So they hide it with stolen glances and fleeting touches. Never enough to make the Avengers suspect. Their facade comes crumbling down when Tony outs them, and Steve is quick to deflect their beliefs. Now, Bucky has to find a way for both him and Steve to disappear before the consequences of their forbidden love catch up to them. (June of Doom day 9)

Fraying Threads of Recovery 💔✨

Bucky Barnes doesn't have a home. He is a relic of a bygone era, abandoned, forgotten and alone. Life has thrown everything his way, and he has endured it. The fight was never-ending, just one after the other. Bucky had had enough. This was no way to live. He just didn't know what he'd be leaving behind. (June of Doom day 16)

Carving Skin Until My Bones Are Showing 💕💔✨

You'd thought that everything was fine, until one overheard conversation shattered the illusion, your rose-tinted glasses fading to black. The words cut deeper than anything you've ever heard, and suddenly, you're re-evaluating everything: your relationship, your body, your worth. Now, the man you love with everything you have exists peacefully beside you, as if nothing's changed, while you slowly unravel in silence. You're left wondering if he's already halfway out the door, and you're just the last to know. (June of Doom day 30)

A03 Works:

Bucky Barnes Doesn’t Understand 💕💔

a series of one shots in which Bucky learns a lot of new things.

Coldest Winter 💕💔

It was almost too easy for Brock to convince the Avengers that Bucky and him were dating. No one blinked an eye at the fact that he was now living in the Avengers Tower with his "boyfriend". (Winter Whumperland day 4)

If I Had the Chance, I’d Never Let You Go 💕💔✨

After several failed matchmaking attempts, Steve finally gets Natasha to stop setting him up with random people. The only problem is, how is he supposed to find a boyfriend in a week? An unexpected solution to his plans appears in the form of the hot brunet that runs the local bookstore

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

DC

Clark Kent

Grishaverse

Kaz Brekker

Wylan Van Eck/Hendriks

Inej Ghafa

Huffing in irritation as her hood gets blown down once again, she’s tempted to just give up. What’s the point anyway? It’s not like she’s going to be able to find her way to the safe house where her partner is sitting, probably all nice and cozy in the warm little cabin. She’s going to die out here alone and cold.

The frigid weather makes her body shut down. No average human could survive in this weather for how long she has.

Finding a small cave, she stumbles her way to the entrance. She doesn’t have it in her to worry what creatures she might find in it.

The relief is only minuscule. At least the wind isn’t blowing her this way and that. At least she isn’t being pelted by the snow coming down and drifting everywhere.

She’s barely able to register the beeping coming from her pocket. Whining, she hesitantly reaches to grab her communication device. Her fingers feel frozen and numb. She hardly is able to muster up the strength to press the button to answer.

“Where are you? What are you doing?” A gruff-sounding voice greets her, the voice echoing in the chilled cave.

“H-hello to you too Ba-Barnes,” she mumbles, curling up on herself to try and trap the heat.

“Not the time, doll. I can’t fucking find you in this stupid snowstorm.”

“Why-why aren’t you.. at th-the cabin.” She furrows her brows, her mind fogging over

“I can’t just leave my best girl to die out here, can I?” Her heart skips a beat. She loves it when he calls her his girl. It doesn’t mean anything to him, but she can’t stop the butterflies in her stomach whenever he says it. “Besides, Steve would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

“Wow,” she huffs, “For a se-second there I tho-thought you actually c-cared.”

He forces out a chuckle, hating how he can hear her shivering. He needs to find her. If he can just keep her talking. He can’t lose her too. He’s lost enough. “Where are you?”

“I’ont know, a-a cave?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost tripping in the deep snow. “I’m never gonna find ya like that, babydoll.”

“I’on’t wanna move,” she whimpers. Bucky curses under his breath. He’s never going to find her like this. He hears shuffling on the other side and another set of whimpers. It makes his heart break. He won’t stop until he finds her. He’s close, if the signal from her tracker is still accurate.

“I’m gonna find you, doll, just hang in there,” he mutters, needing to somehow keep her talking. A harsh howling on the other end alerts him to the fact that she must be out of the cave.

“You still have those flares on you, doll?”

“I d-d-don’t th-think I’ll be able to-to light it,” she shivers so violently that he’s sure if it weren’t for his enhanced senses he would have no idea what she’s saying.

Bucky curses under his breath and looks around him. Her dot is so close. She should be somewhere nearby. Stopping, he notices a lake nearby. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve probably walked right on it since the snow is covering it. God, then what good would he be?

A crack was heard through the speaker and his heart stopped. “Doll? What was that?”

He could hear her hyperventilating, still shaking as the wind harshly nips at her poor body. “Bucky…”

“What is it? What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me,” he orders, brain going into hyperdrive.

“I-I think I’m on ice ri-right n-now,” she shudders out, not moving an inch.

“Shit,” he mumbles. At least now he knows she’s close. “I’m gonna find ya, don’t move a muscle.”

He hears another one of those heartbreaking whimpers and wishes he could just find her and carry her to safety right this second.

The amount of relief he feels when he manages to see a speck of black in the blinding white blizzard is immense. That relief is quickly swept away when he hears another crack.

It all happens too fast.

The loud crack, the scream, the sound of her body plunging into the freezing water.

A churning is felt in his gut as he watches the woman he loves fall into the water. He should have told her to stay in that cave. He would have searched for hours if it meant that she was not drowning in water.

She’s never been this cold in her life. Her body seizes as she sinks. In a desperate last attempt she swims upwards. It doesn’t take long for her to feel heavy. Her body shutting down as she tries her best to keep her head above the water. It would be so nice to be in her bed, wrapped in her many blankets. Safe and warm. Her eyes drift shut as her hand catches on the ice.

Her mind doesn’t even catch up when a strange, soft material touches her hand. She barely realises that her body is being hauled out of the water. A string of muffled curses sound so far away as her eyes flutter open and close.

Warmth.

Nuzzling into the warmth, she vaguely recognises a wonderful smell. Something like the forest she used to play in as a child mixed with something purely masculine.

Bucky watches her smile as she nuzzles her face into his chest. His steps are even and quick, wanting—no, needing to get to the cabin as soon as possible.

A particularly harsh wind blows against her body and she can’t hold in the small cry as it feels like she is being frozen like a popsicle.

The cry urges Bucky to pick up his pace. He can’t let her die. He can’t lose her. She means too much to him. Who else will ramble to him when he can’t sleep? Who else is going to stay up with him all night to make cookies because he had a bad nightmare? Who else is he going to watch movies with? Who else will unconsciously cuddle into him during movie nights? Who else is going to warm his heart with every little move she makes?

There’s no one that can replace her. He is sure of it. She matters too much to him and everyone else on the team.

The cabin comes into view, and at this point he’s sprinting to get into the warmth. Luckily, it should be somewhat warm. The heating is nothing to brag about, but at least it is insulated. There’s also a fireplace, and he made sure that there was plenty of firewood.

“We’re almost there, sweets, just hang in there,” he mutters, holding her closer to his body. If she doesn’t make it… he doesn’t know what he’ll do. If only it had been him that got stuck out in the cold. Then she’d be safe at home in the warm. Then she wouldn’t be clinging onto life.

The door jolts her out of her dazed state. She suddenly feels more cold even though she is in the building. The slight warmth the cabin provides her isn’t enough.

He sets her down in the living room and tells her to strip. She mumbles incoherently as he moves to get some blankets. He sets them on the couch before moving over to start a fire in the fireplace. His hands are trembling as he lights the match. Fear and adrenaline both running high.

When the logs finally catch, he turns back to see that she has barely moved. Sighing, he rushes over to help her. “Doll? C’mon, stay with me,” he mutters, standing her upright.

She whines, just wanting to go to sleep. The warmth is starting to set in, but it still isn’t enough. Maybe if she sleeps this nightmare will be over.

“I’m gonna have to take off your clothes…” he grimaces at the blank look he receives. Swiftly undressing her, he wishes that she was cognisant enough to do it herself. He hates that he has to do this especially without her consent. He knows she’d never want him to see her like this. He knows that if she were in her right mind, she’d probably punch him for even looking at her. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that she hates being exposed to others. Trust issues and all that. But at this point all that doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting her warm.

“I-I always knew you wa-wanted t-to get into my pants,” she jokes as he pulls down her tack pants, her voice quiet and whispery. He blushes deep red, continuing to undress her.

“You wish,” he mutters back, but it’s strangled and he definitely knows that, were she in her right mind, she would notice how he took too long to answer.

She chuckles a little, her eyes drooping closed. The smile she gives him makes him weak in the knees. When all of her clothes are removed, he carries her over to the fireplace, grabbing the blankets on the way. She leans into his chest, cuddling into him as far as possible.

When he goes to move away she whines and pulls him back. “Don’t go.”

It sounds so faint, he’s not even sure he heard it. Nevertheless, he stays. Whether it’s because he is selfish and loves having her close or because he wants to provide more warmth, he’s not so sure. Maybe it’s both. It’s probably both.

He curses under his breath when his hand touches her skin. It’s almost like she is frozen. Even after doing all this she’s still not warm. He rubs his hand over her arms, wishing he had his other arm to warm her too. Stupid vibranium appendage doesn’t provide the heat that human flesh does.

“Y’know… I heard that uh…” she mumbles, cutting her sentence off with a shudder, shaking her head. She mutters something that sounds like nonsense as her head rolls away from him.

“What is it, doll?”

“I’on’t… I don’ wanna make you uncomfy,” she slurs out, exhaustion dripping from her tone of voice.

“Baby, please, I’ll do anything, just stay awake, yeah? Can you do that for me? I know you can. You’re so strong, such a good girl for me,” he rambles, shaking her body to keep her awake.

A different kind of warmth blooms in her stomach and she hides her head into his chest so Bucky can’t see her face. She’s sure that she’s as red as a tomato. That’s one way to sort of heat up her body, she supposes.

The words she speaks are muffled against his Henley and not even his enhanced hearing can catch it. “What was that?”

She groans, not wanting to repeat it.

“C’mon, doll. It can’t be that bad,” he smiles reassuringly at her. She shakes her head and curls up in a ball, dying from embarrassment even though she hasn’t told him anything yet.

“Take your clothes off,” she mumbles, not realising that what she just said was a bit forward. Bucky’s eyes widen and he splutters, practically choking on his own saliva.

“Uh.. I don’t think right now is the best time to be—”

“Not like that you creep!” She exclaims, lightly hitting him because it’s all the strength she has left. “It’ll help warm. Skin on skin, y’know?”

“Oh, right, of course,” he stutters, face heating in embarrassment. He knew that. Of course he did. He had plenty of training on what to do during a situation like this. But god, the way those words came tumbling from her pretty lips. He’d give anything for this situation to be different. For her to be…

Stop it. Not now. She needs warmth. Not a pervert to creep on her with a hard on whilst she’s practically dying in his arms. Fuck. This is bad.

If she notices, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes have been respectfully focused on anything other than her body, but just knowing that his crush is naked, lying against him gets his blood running south. It’s not his fault that he has had no action in like seventy years.

God, that makes him sound so lame.

He lets go of her to pull off his Henley. His pants follow, but he keeps on his boxers for modesty. She doesn’t need to see his embarrassingly hard… Nevermind. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it and it will go away.

Boy was he wrong.

When he sits back down, she crawls into his lap with not a moment’s hesitation, the blanket still draped over her. The second the blanket is removed from in between them, he swears he can hear the sirens sing. Although cold, her flesh against him feels so good. It’s a kind of contact that he hasn’t had in lord only knows how long. And now he never wants it to end.

Bucky smiles when he hears her contempt hum of approval. She nuzzles her head into his chest and cuddles impossibly closer to him. This, he muses, is a moment he wants to stay in forever. Nothing but them both cuddled against each other in the most intimate but also non-intimate way possible.

“Thanks, Buck,” she whispers after a few minutes of solid silence, the only sound is the crackling of the fire.

“No problem, babydoll.” He runs his hand up and down her bare back, wanting to comfort her and also warm her up. He watches her as her eyes start to flutter shut. She’s trying so hard to stay awake, but the exhaustion is pulling her down like an anchor to a ship.

“You didn’t hit your head did you?” Bucky questions, not wanting her to fall asleep with a concussion.

“No,” she mumbles, “jus’ wanna sleep.”

“Okay… I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises, leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead. She smiles and sighs contentedly as she drifts off to sleep.

“You better be.”

“Who are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” the voice replied. Laughter followed soon after. “You should have seen your face! Oh, I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Furrowing his brows and thinning his lips, he huffed out a breath. “Come out,” he ordered, tone as stiff as his body.

“I’m pansexual, phew what a relief to get that off my chest.”

Anger simmered in his chest. Just who was this and why the hell was she making a joke out of this situation?

“Fine, fine, Captain Grumpypants,” the voice grumbled. “Y’know when I used to watch those detention videos I always thought you might be at least a little fun.”

A small woman climbed down from the top bunk. She was wearing a flimsy dress that he didn’t do its best job at hiding her features.

“And… just how old are you?”

“Hmm, getting to the important questions, aren’t we, Captain?”

“Just answer me.”

“Fine, I’m eighteen.”

“And what are you doing here?”

“The same as you: wanting to get out of this hellhole.”

“Do… do you know where we are?”

“No idea, but whatever they are planning, I hope it’ll end soon.” Her gaze drifted towards the ceiling then landed back on him. He seemed more tall and muscular in person. And had he not been kidnapped, she would be delighted to see him. She dreamed that maybe one day the Avengers would come save her, but she never thought that this is how she’d meet one of the world’s heroes.

“How does one manage to kidnap Captain America anyways? That’s the question I’ve been wondering since they all but dragged you in here.” She absentmindedly wondered.

“I… I’m not sure…” he trailed off. “I have a question of my own.”

“Shoot.”

“I understand why they’d want to take me, but why you?”

She frowned. “I take offence to that.”

Steve sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. “You weren’t supposed to.”

“Let’s just say you aren’t the only special one here,” she coyly responded.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She groaned. “Must you always be so serious? Relax a little.”

“It’s kinda hard to do that when I’m locked in a strange room with a person I don’t even know the name of.”

“Nyx.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name, it’s Nyx. Like the goddess.”

“Right.” Silence, then, fell over them once again.

Steve couldn’t help thinking about all the possibilities of how this could pan out. What could they possibly want from them? Who even were “they”.

They both jolted when a crackling voice sounded over a speaker of some sort. “How wonderful that you’ve both been acquainted now.”

Steve clenched his fists, his brows tightly furrowed as he looked at the ceiling. Glancing at Nyx, he noticed that this must have been a common occurrence.

“We brought you two here for a very special reason. Nyx already knows her purpose, don’t you, my dark angel?”

A pang metaphorically hit him in the chest. Just when he thought he could trust her. Angry eyes look over to see the woman. Steve expected her to be smiling cruelly or something along those lines, but when his gaze met hers, she was trembling a hand placed over her mouth as she gasped. Tears were forming in her eyes and she was doing her best to make herself small as she backed away from him.

Furrowing his brows, Steve looked back up at the ceiling where the voice continued, “Our plan is to have an army. An army of enhanced supersoldiers.” Steve’s eyes widened. No. They couldn’t possibly- “I see you’ve caught on, Captain Rogers.”

Gritting his teeth, he swallowed the bile that has raised to his throat. What they were asking him to do was wrong. It was disgusting and horrible in every single way. He could never and would never…

“You don’t have much of a choice, Captain.”

“I’ll never do what you want, you disgusting—“

Pain erupted through his body like fire spreading through his veins. Gritting his teeth, he strengthened his resolve. He’d rather die of electrocution than make a mere child do whatever that sick twisted man wanted.

“Change your mind, Captain?” the voice taunted.

“Never.”

The pain only increased. He couldn’t help but yelp in pain. Tears were forming in his eyes, but he did his best to keep them at bay. He looked at Nyx who at this point was sobbing. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but he was sure it came off as more of a grimace than anything.

The man asked him once again if he had a change of heart to which Steve replied with no.

This time, Steve was relieved to not have that burning sensation return. It was short lived, however, when he heard the cry from Nyx. Eyes wide, panting heavily, Steve yelled at them to stop hurting her. She was barely an adult—practically a child. She had her whole life ahead of her. She didn’t deserve any of this.

“Please! Stop! Hurt me instead! I’ll do anything, please just stop hurting her!” Steve cried out, banging on the door to try and find a way for them to escape. He knew it was futile, but he didn’t care. He had to get them out to safety.

“Anything?” The voice was condescending and Steve knew he chose the wrong wording. “Put a child in her.”

Nyx, who had just stopped screaming since the electrocution stopped, whimpered, backing further away from her hero. She didn’t know what he would do. Sure, he was supposed to be the good guy. But this was different. There was no red monster, there was no alien invasion, there was no murder-robot. It was just him and her alone in a room.

“I will never hurt you,” Steve promised, not stepping any closer to the frightened girl. He didn’t want to make her any more scared than she already was.

“Oh, but Captain, you already are.”

Her body jolted again, cries of agony spilling past her lips. It felt like a knife had been plunged into his heart. Her screams only further twisted it in. This was his fault. He closed his watery eyes, silently praying to any god above that would listen. He could feel the warm tears dripping down his cheeks. His heart had suffered no greater pain than this, he was sure.

“Oh, Captain, always so selfless. You just want to help her don’t you? Maybe we can teach you how to help.”

The door burst open and Steve’s first thought was to get them outta there. The man must have seen it coming, for he electrocuted Steve, effectively making him fall to his knees. “Ah, ah, ah! You don’t want to do that,” the voice chided him.

The pain was unbearable until he heard Nyx call out his name. Never had he heard someone sound so desperate —so scared. Looking up, he saw the man that had entered had grabbed her. Pain forgotten, he pushed himself off the ground.

He fought each and every one of them off her body, making sure to pummel them into the concrete floor.

He reached out a hand to Nyx, pulling her off the ground. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

The hallway was empty and silent. The team was elsewhere; he made sure to ask Friday before even stepping foot in the building.

The woman behind him was trembling and terrified. After everything, it would be strange if she wasn't. She had just seen her “owner” die, and had been dragged away by the very man who killed him.

Bucky would deal with the woman’s fear later, he just had to get into his room.

They went up the stairs and entered a big room, big enough to fit a small apartment building in it. Bucky closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief.

“So…” He started, but the woman fell to her knees before he could say anything else.

He thought back. The job he was assigned was a simple “clean up”. Some people were doing some super shady shit. He just had to collect some documents and arrest some people.

Not only had he killed the leader, who was supposed to be taken alive, but he had also taken the target’s “pet” back with him.

Steve wouldn't be very happy about that. Not at all. He didn’t even want to think about what Tony would say.

He had killed the leader because of the woman. The whole thing had really angered him. How could they do something like this? With an innocent person? It honestly had hit a little too close to home. Being treated like a worthless mutt. He couldn’t handle seeing someone else subjected to such torture and humiliation.

Bucky sighed and the woman flinched. Looking at the trembling shape kneeling in front of him, he knew that nothing he could say now would calm the woman down. She sees him as the monster he is. The horrible Winter Soldier. He hadn't much time right at the moment to ease her mind so, for that night, treating any injuries would be enough.

He came out of the bathroom after bathing the woman and treating her injuries. The sight was a lot to take in; whipping marks, bruises, open cuts, broken bones, old and new scars. How much had this woman suffered? It made his stomach churn.

“Come here,” Bucky quietly murmured, trying not to make it sound like an order. The woman obeyed immediately, even if she was clearly frightened.

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, I will be out for the whole night anyway.”

The woman looked up at him confused as if trying to find a trap.

"Look, I meant it. You should sleep on the bed, rest well, tomorrow we’ll talk more," Bucky asserted, going towards the door.

"Oh right," he turned back at the woman, who curled up on herself, "as I said, I will be out the whole night, but there are other people living here, so for now don't leave the room or make loud noises, okay?"

She obediently nodded her head, still not making a sound.

Bucky got out of the room and took a deep breath. The whole situation would be difficult. He didn’t even know how to help, and if the—no—when the others found out, what would be their reaction? Steve did have a huge soft spot for him, but would he allow him to keep the woman there? If not, what would he do? He couldn’t just kick her to the curb. She deserved to be looked after.

He shook his head, making those thoughts fade. At that moment, he had to get the information he should've got from the leader. He did arrest some people so that would be a good place to start.

He felt like a child picking up a stray dog without their parents knowing. Bucky took another deep breath trying to take some energy in. He might have to pull at least two all-nighters to get the information they need, but that would be worth it, he would make it be worth it.

Everything had happened so fast, she was with Master—Former Master now—when she heard noises, shots, and screams. The people who worked with Former Master seemed frantic and scared.

Former Master closed himself in his room, but a man—her new master—broke in and… and... he looked so angry.

He shouted at her former master and shot him, not once, but five times. Why would he need so many shots?

The man then looked at her and said to follow him. She was so scared, but what else could she do? She had no choice but to obey.

Was that man her new master? She really hoped not; he was scary. He had a gun. He had murdered her master. He was angry and was taking her somewhere new.

What would her new master do to her? Was he going to hurt her? Why? Had she done something wrong? How could she have done something wrong when she had never even seen that man before? Was he going to hurt her because of her former master?

They got into a car, and to her surprise she wasn't put in the trunk or tied up and gagged.

Maybe it was a test to see if she would behave. And she would, she would do anything so Master didn’t need to hurt her.

It took a long time until they got to the large building, and it was huge. She hoped she wouldn't be expected to clean all of it alone. She would certainly try, of course, if Master ordered her to do so. But she wouldn't be able to do it all and would be harshly punished for it, she was sure of it.

New Master pressed his index finger to his lips, a signal for her to be quiet—even though she had tried so hard to not make a noise the whole time. Was she breathing too loud? She held her breath just to be sure.

She walked behind Master to a room. Master’s room was huge—bigger than her previous master’s room.

“So…” Master drawled off.

She suddenly realized she wasn’t on her knees yet, useless bitch. Her former master hurt her because she was useless. New Master would hurt her too, right? Of course, he would. She was useless. She had been noisy and not even knelt to show she knew her place. She was going to be in so much trouble.

When she was taken to the bathroom, her mind thought of all the things that New Master could do that would lead to pain.

Instead, Master gave her a bath and put medicine on her injuries. She wished to be allowed to talk so that she could beg Master to stop.

What will she have to do to earn all of this? Was Master trying to erase her old master’s marks? If so, would he create new marks over those?

She felt her heart crush in her chest. She can’t take any more.

Master said she could sleep on the bed. That he would be out the whole night, but she knew better. She wasn’t allowed on the bed, and she was afraid of what she would have to endure to earn it.

As for Master being out? That was what cameras were made for! Master always, always, knows.

Master also said to be quiet because there are more people in the house. Were there more masters? Would she have to serve more than one? Would she be able to? She swallowed hard at those thoughts.

Master had left, he wouldn't be back until morning.

When Master did come back, she would have to learn how to please her master again and would be punished for not knowing the rules again.

She wasn’t allowed to cry, she knew it, but she couldn't help it. Everything happened so fast. It was all so scary, and she just wanted to cry.

She hugged her knees in the corner of the big room and cried herself to sleep.

It was already past noon when Bucky came back, and he had yet to eat. That made him remember that the woman also hadn’t eaten anything. He cursed his self care habits that were now affecting someone that deserved to be cared for.

He brought a simple soup for her. He didn’t know what she had eaten or when, and soup would go easy in her stomach, at least he guessed so.

He knocked on the door before opening it in an attempt not to scare the woman—or not scare her too much, at least.

She was already kneeling when he entered, well, he was expecting this much. She was shivering like a leaf.

It felt so wrong.

Bucky wasn’t really in the mood to deal with the woman. He was hungry and tired. Fortunately, he did gather enough clues to proceed with the investigation, but it would take longer than expected. All he wanted was to rest right after eating. Plus, he still didn’t like being around people.

“You must be hungry, I brought some food for us,” Bucky uttered softly, focusing his remaining energy on looking harmless—which didn't seem to be working since the woman was still staring at the floor and didn’t respond in any way. “You are allowed to speak. Did you sleep well?”

“Y-yes master, than-thank you f-for your ki-kindness,” she whispered, even more scared than before.

Bucky regretted killing the man the way he did. He should have taken him away from this poor young woman's sight and crushed him until he became just a shell of himself, and only then killed him. There’s not much he could do now, though.

“That’s good,” He lied, looking at the untouched bed. “Look, I know it is hard to believe, and you don’t need to believe in me now, but I have to tell you anyway, I won’t hurt you, not now, and not in the future, keep that in mind, okay?”

The woman nodded. Of course, she didn’t believe it, though.

“Can you stop kneeling? Sit there, please.” Bucky pointed to a chair at the table where he usually had his meals, all that kneeling was really bothering him.

She looked at him as though he had two heads before looking at the chair. “M-master, on the-the chair?” She looked on the edge of a breakdown making him sigh. The woman flinched at the sound.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, making a mental note not to sigh anymore, “you can use the chair. We are going to eat, both of us, so we should sit properly, don’t you think?”

He smiled and tried to sound convincing but failed. He hadn’t really smiled since he got caught up with Hydra. He wasn’t even sure if he remembered how.

Bucky could hear her unregular deep breaths as she stood on shaking legs. She looked like a damn baby deer walking for the first time. Before sitting, the woman looked back at him as if to make sure that she wouldn’t be punished for something as simple as sitting in a damn chair.

The woman, Bucky thought, does she have a name? Probably not, but it would be better if he didn’t worry about it this instant. He didn’t even know what to do with her yet.

It took a long time trying to convince the woman to eat, and Bucky was getting impatient. Why is it so hard to make her do those simple things? He shook his head at those thoughts.

I’m just tired, he said to himself. She is just trying to not be punished. I would have done the same if I were in her position. Bucky took a deep breath and tried to not look more scary than necessary in front of the poor woman.

After finally convincing the woman that she was allowed to eat, they ate silently. The woman seemed even more anxious now that she was eating. Bucky didn’t have any idea why.

He tried to decide what to do. He could send the woman to a clinic or something, where she could get real help with someone who knew what to do. He didn’t know why he cared so much about her. It would be better to just send her away, so the woman could recover. Plus, if he slipped her out quick enough, the team would be none the wiser.

“I need to leave again. I will be back soon this time, okay?” Bucky said as soon as he finished the meal, and the woman nodded.

She took a shower and brushed her teeth like she had done every morning for four days.

They were harmless showers. Not the ones that were too hot or too cold like her old master’s. The thing that was even better? Showers alone, without Master with his hands and-

No! She was meant to please Master, and if Master wanted to… to touch her, Master would. No, not if—she reminded herself—when.

That was the reason she has been kept clean, wasn’t it? To look a bit less disgusting and dirty and broken.

She looked at her wounds. The green and yellow bruises, and cuts which had been taken care of for the past few days.

She was not clean. She was used. She was dirty.

New Master wanted her to be clean, so when she would be all healed up, Master would take her to the bedroom to fuck her until she would be a sobbing bad pet, begging for him to stop.

She wished she healed more slowly so it would take longer for her to need to pay for the kindness of getting her wounds tended to, and for wasting so much medicine and painkillers. She shouldn’t want anything but to please her master, but she desperately wanted more time until Master dragged her into his bed.

The pain brought her back to reality. She flinched, surprised. Her breath turned into panting until she realized the source of her pain; she had put her finger in a healing cut, opening it all over again.

Master would be angry. He spent money on ointment and bandages for his ungrateful pet, and his pet wasted it.

She looked at her hand, stained with her dirty lowly blood and… maybe, just maybe, if the wounds heal slower. Maybe… she could start to reopen the cuts. Maybe, she could hit the old bruises… Maybe…

She was being bad, she knew.

She would be punished when Master found out. Maybe he was watching her—even if she had searched for cameras and didn't find any—but even if she was punished for it, even if she was beaten raw, at least she would be too dirty for Master to take her to the bedroom.

She repeated it in her mind over and over because it hurt so much, but she had been in more pain before. She could take it. She could take it.

She put her clothes on in a hurry, wondering if she had spent too much time in the bathroom.

Once out, she knelt waiting for Master to come into his bedroom.

“Good Morning, Master,” she murmured when the man came into the room. She had learned that he wanted her to talk for some reason. He told her it was okay. That he wanted to hear her voice.

She briefly looked up at him. He was tall and strong. He could probably crush her like a measly little ant.

“Good Morning, doll,” Master greeted, with the same “ordering tone” that he always used, be it an order or not, reasserting who is at the top.

Doll.

Master liked to remind her that she was small and weak—as if she didn’t know it already. How she was nothing more but an object for him to use and play with whenever he pleased. She would prefer if Master cursed at her rather than always remind her of how worthless she was.

She stared at the man’s boots, big and heavy. It would be so, so easy to crush her bones or pin her down.

Master has done it, not to her but she knew Master did it to somebody else; sometimes his boots were bloody, an unspoken warning saying she isn’t the only pet Master has, showing a glimpse of what would happen to her if she steps out of the line.

She felt the wound that she had worsened earlier ache and hoped there truly were no cameras in the bathroom. Desperately hoping that Master wouldn’t find out.

“Let’s eat,” the Master ordered, smiling.

That was the other weird thing; food.

Three meals a day, every day. It’s not dog food. It’s actually human food. She eats sitting on the chair near Master.

She didn’t understand why she was being fed so well. She would probably be punished more for wasting his food, or maybe it was a short service where she would be healed and fed then fucked and beaten, then she would be thrown out or killed. Maybe soon her own blood would be on Master’s boot.

The mealtime was always overwhelming; she tried to eat, but she could feel Master’s gaze burning a hole through her, looking at her every move.

She probably let her thoughts show on her face because Master asked if she was okay, or if she was in pain anywhere. Master would ask her sometimes, and sometimes she almost believed Master was being sincere. She would believe it if Master at least hid the anger under his voice, but his voice was always angry.

“I’m fine, Master,” she mumbled, she trained to speak without stuttering, and the training was paying off.

“That’s great, doll,” Master smiled. “How are your wounds?”

She dryly swallowed. If he was going to check, he was going to be mad. She was wasting his medicine. She was being a bad pet.

“B-Better, Master,” she tried, stuttering a little.

“That’s good, tell me if anything bothers you, it is not good if you get hurt, is it?” Master questioned, probably because he knew. He saw right through her façade. He was threatening her.

“No, Master, I-I won’t get hurt,” her heart was racing, and she lowered her head to not show her face.

“Okay, tell Friday if you need anything, I will be in the common room,” Master said, and she nodded.

After Master left, she started to re-clean the room. She never left Master’s room. They were on the second floor, that was about the extent she knew. The room was too big for her. She wished she had a cage, a small and safe cage.

Master said she could clean it if she wanted—as if she was allowed to want anything—but even so, she liked to clean. It made her feel like maybe she wasn’t as worthless as she really was.

One thing she liked about the room was the big windows.

At first, she thought about escaping, but she had given it up quite quickly.

Even if there were no guards or dogs—even if all the doors were open and signaling the exit she couldn't leave.

Master had won because every time she would think about it, she remembered her old Master dying, and the blood on New Master’s boots.

She started to tremble and her breath went out of control.

She wouldn’t escape. She couldn’t escape. Master was right, she was just a little, worthless, and weak doll; a toy. A broken toy.

“Can I come in?” Bucky asked in a low voice. The question was somewhat foreign to him. He rarely invaded other people’s space, but he felt that was only fair to invade her space—seeing as it was actually his room.

“O-of course, m-master.” A faint voice answered, it was a beautiful voice, or it would be if used in a more brave tone.

Bucky entered the room, and the woman backed away. He wasn’t even sure how tall the woman was with her desperate attempts to look smaller and smaller.

The wounds on her arms were still visible as if they hadn't healed a bit, but maybe her metabolism is just slow? Or is that how normal people’s metabolism is?

She was trembling like always. When Bucky realized he was almost used to the trembling he forced himself not to think about it. Humans are adaptive beings; he knew this, he easily turned blind to all the violence and death around him, but he didn’t want to be blind when looking at the woman.

Of course, the young woman was on her knees, like that was how she was born to be. Although, sometimes, Bucky could see a fire in her eyes, just for a fraction of a second. The woman was still there, somewhere within the walls built by the trauma, locking people out and herself in.

“You don’t have a name, do you?” Master questioned as he set up some containers of delicious smelling food.

She didn’t want to speak more than necessary, but she was allowed to talk.

“I-I don’t,“ she hesitantly spoke. Her old master didn’t like it when she talked, dogs—bitches—don’t talk. New Master wants you to speak, she reminded herself.

Master left the table and neared her. He got down on his knees, two meters from her, too far to his hands to reach her. That somehow made her feel better. Not being in reach of his hands and at eye level. When was the last time she saw someone eye to eye? Did she ever? She didn’t remember.

Master seemed to be looking at something that was not there, something far away. He took a deep breath after a while and looked at her with a non-violent look—one that she didn’t understand the meaning of.

“So I’ll give you a new name.”

A name. She never dared to say it out loud, but she had always wanted a name. Even some plants are given names when someone liked them. Things that were cared for have names, so it couldn’t be true that a broken toy like her got to have a name. It was such a mean joke that she felt like crying.

“Your new name is… Nova,” Master mumbled slowly.

Her eyes widened, and she focused on hearing more than seeing. Nova is not a curse, she would know if it was. Old master would have used it to curse at her if it was. Maybe it was really a name. She shouldn't believe it… but what if?

“Nova means new.” Master continued, his soft voice unlike the commanding tone he always used.

New.

She was anything but new. She was broken and used and dirty and-

“Because you have a new life ahead of you, and even if you can’t see it yet.” Master took a deep breath, his eyes held a far off look. “It is all yours to claim.” Master’s voice was firm, and Nova felt that it was impossible to lie in that tone. “So, Nova, I want you to do whatever you want with your new life.”

Nova was now facing the floor, so Master was unable to see her face. She didn’t believe those words, but her heart was racing anyway. She shivered more, not from fear this time. Her mind almost forgot the very presence of the dangerous man in front of her. She shivered, trying to hold the tears in.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Master muttered, “I’ll be taking my leave.”

And just like that, he left.

“Nova...” she tried in a low voice. “Nova.”

She wanted to hear her name. She wanted to be called in an affectionate way.

Master was joking, he had to be, but… she truly had a new master, so she somehow did have a new life, so… she could be new.

Only things that are cared for have names, even if Master was joking and didn’t care about her, she could care about herself, couldn’t she?

At least she had something good. She had a name, so she could care for her name. She could care a little bit about herself.

She started to sob faster than she could notice, feeling the hope that she almost forgot, the same dangerous hope that broke her so many times before, the same hope that kept her, well… her.

She couldn’t see it, but her eyes lit a little bit, a new light that refused to extinguish.

Sam and Steve are hot on Bucky’s heels as he makes his way to the infirmary.

The group startle Dr. Cho, who has been busy working on Avenger’s paperwork. Her eyes grow wide upon seeing the young woman in Sergent Barnes’s arms. Helen shoots up from her seat and rushes over to the woman. “Barnes, set her on the table, take off those jackets. Wilson, get me Banner. Rogers, get me some blankets and a warm compress from the med kit” she rattled off, quickly washing her hands.

Bucky removed the coats from her body, his heart breaking as the woman moaned in protest. She tried to get the, now wet, coats back from him, but Bucky threw them aside. Cho grabbed a few towels and threw them at Bucky, ordering him to dry her body off. It was still damp from the snow she was lying in. Helen wasted no time in hooking up electrodes to her body to get the cardiac monitor set up. She is relieved to see the green spikes followed by the infamous beeping of the monitor. The woman has a pulse, albeit weak.

Sam returns with Bruce striding into the room. Sam had explained the whole situation to him on the way there. “Banner! Get me a warm saline solution now!”

Bruce hustles to get the solution as Steve enters the room with a mountain of blankets he could find nearby. Cho tells him to help her envelop the patient’s body in the blankets, needing to insulate her body to prevent further heat loss.

Dr. Banner returns with the solution and a kit. He quickly yet efficiently washes his hands and puts on clean medical gloves. He hangs the bag and fills the tubing with the saline solution. Taking her arm out from under the blankets, he secures a tourniquet above the vein he’s going to insert the solution into. Bruce cleans the skin before inserting the plastic tube into the vein using a needle. Once the needle and tube are in, he removes the needle and unsecures the tourniquet. Taping the tube in place, Banner wraps the area with Coban to ensure that the patient wouldn’t try to remove the line when she wakes up. He looks to Cho for further instructions when he’s done wrapping her arm.

“We need an ECG when her vitals are stable. Get a finger-stick glucose, I think she might be hypoglycaemic. We need to prepare for a CMP too.”

“You got it, boss.”

Dr. Banner returns with the supplies needed hastily. He takes the patient’s left arm, his brows furrowed, and inserts the small needle into her vein to draw some blood. “I’ll take the blood to the labs to process the CMP, I trust you can handle the finger-stick?”

“I’ve got it.”

As Helen predicted, her glucose levels are below 70 mg/dl. It doesn’t surprise her given how malnourished the woman looks. She would just have to monitor her levels closely.

“She has some injuries on her back too,” Bucky informs her, restlessly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He wants to help, he needs to do something to help her.

“I know, I saw them. I was planning on putting her in the cradle as soon as her vitals are stable.”

“Is she… gonna make it?” Steve questions, breaking the silence in the room. Cho sighs, worry-lines etched into her face. She isn’t sure quite yet. It’s hard to tell until she can get her body temperature back to normal.

“I don’t know yet. Where did you guys find her?”

“It seems like she was just dumped on the side of the road on the way to the compound. We don’t know where she could have come from in a state like this.”

“Who would do something like this?” Helen mutters, tears threatening to form in her eyes. As a medical professional, she didn’t often cry during work, especially in a patient’s room, but just thinking of how horrible the situation overwhelmed her. She honestly doesn’t know how this woman is still alive. With wounds like those and being left in the cold so vulnerable, she should probably be half-dead.

Bucky just watches in silence. As if on repeat, the moment from the car plays in his head. It really bothers him. The more he thinks about it, the worse it is. Disgust churns in his gut, twisting violently. Just what exactly has this poor woman been through?

All four of them stay in the room, keeping close watch over the woman. Her heart rate is slowly elevating and her temperature is normal. That’s a good sign, at least. When her body temperature is stable, Helen puts her in the cradle.