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Bucky sighed. The sun didn’t have a window to shine through in the damn bunker they were in, but he knew that the sun was already up. He sat up and looked over at Daisy.
“You awake?” he said, keeping his volume low so as not to wake her if she was asleep.
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"Look who's back from her space adventure."
"Very glad you weren't a redshirt."
"Wakey, wakey!"
daisyxjohnson started following you
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Hey--"
"Do you think we can get someone to deliver a bottle of wine here? Maybe some rum?"
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Bucky walked back into their safehouse--his lip split, a gash on his cheek, and a fair amount of blood on his clothes. He honestly wasn't really sure what was his blood and his enemies' at this point. It was a long day, but Fury called. So he did was he did best, killed people.
He slowly made his way back to his room, taking off his gun holster and throwing them on his bedside table. The soldier then turned on the shower and stepped in--his costume still on. Bucky was sure he tracked blood through the house but he hardly cared. He was tired and just wanted to take a shower and stitch himself up.
