#square filled

Fandom: Walker (TV 2021)Rating"R Warnings:adult content Characters: Cordell Walker (Walker TV 2021), Grace& Emily Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Walker Bingo, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Crossover Pairings, - Fantasy Summary: cordwell walker uses blackmail against rival Grace

Square Filled"blackmail,Angst cordell walker ,had had a bad day at work ,his face was smeared with redness as he had just bumped into an old friend and found out that she too was now a texas ranger and he couldnt understand what she was up to why she had joined the force why she had come back to town without informing him if made him fume with anger ,G race was cordy,s longtime friend but before she had left town without letting him know she was leaving they had become more than friends so he thought now he just didnt want to see her at all.his mind wondering what had sent her packing had also wanted to know what had brought her home cordell was so upset he just starting throwing things around the room shattering glass and smashing holes into the walls with his fist he was now in a new relationship with emily but if knew if he spent even just one moment with Grace he wouldnt be able to control himself because he knew deep down in his heart he wasnt over her so he made up his mind he just had to prepare himself for their reunion ,Emily had to be first he had to make himself keep her the focus of his agenda but he felt he knew it was gonna take all the power he had to do this. he snatched open the fridge and grabbed a beer before plopping into the chair in front of the tv he drank serval before heading off to bed his dreams were covered with images of Grace dancing thru out the night when he awoke he dressed in a hurry and dashed out for the office praying he was early enough that he wouldnt run into her as cordell was reaching for his assignment the door flung open and in a instant Grace came gliding thru it as if she hadnt a care in the world not even taking notice of cordell standing there glaring at her Grace stumbled into the bosses office and drapped herself in the seat asking what she needed to do for the day,she was handed an assignment the boss making it clear that she need to take charge and get to work immeditaly so she ripped the paper in half and stuck in her pocket ,out the door she went with no hesitation not looking to see her new partner might be as she reached the patrol car cordy stood beside the passenger side door with anger in his eyes omg Grace plurred out not you ,well im not happy about this either cordell shouted back to her its not my cup of tea to have to see you again. me, Grace was stung with his words why are you so mad at me ,cordell couldnt believe she would even ask him such a thing you left not explaining to me why or if you,d come back how was i to know you couldnt handle things what Grace asked she started to laugh at his gesture which made him grow angerier ,Grace could see hurt in him im sorry for not talking to you before i just took off but i didnt know how to deal with what was happening not just between us i had alot going on,so why didnt you come & tell me this did it make it better to shut me out to take the high road and just leave me in the dark? no it wasnt fair for me to leave without explaining to you why i had to im listening cordell said ,we cant do this now she told him we have work to do,oh i get it the old dodge the question routine, no it will just have to wait Grace said work has to come first sure cordell agreed as they both jumped into the patrol car this isnt uncormfortable at all Grace said cordell sneered at her without saying a word back the day grew long but they stayed silent after all they both were just not ready for real talk soon the day had come to end and they parted ways waiting for the right time to open the wounds she had left behind Grace didnt know exactly how much hurt she had caused. the next day she hoped things would look clearer but cordell wasnt going to make it easy for her he wanted answers he pulled her aside after arriving at work the next day ,we have to have to talk about it he said fine Grace followed him into

breakroom i need to know why you left he asked she looked at him her eyes were filled with tears i had to she told him but why ,why i dont understand he looked confused Grace nodded her head i know you dont ,Emily found out and she threatened you what,no way not possible cordell said she threatened me how ? she threatened to have your job she knew how much you meant to me still do actually ,stop it cordell pleaded i dont trust you anymore fine Grace told him ask her yourself she was afraid of the time we were spending togather she knew you had fallen for me too thats why she did it,she wanted to tear us apart and it looks like it worked your the one who walked away not me i would have never left you .i need to talk to Emily still dont believe me huH? cordell turned his back and walked out of the room,he stormed out of the building pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Emilys she picked up after just two rings hello ,Emily i need to see you now can you meet me at the square in an hour sure babe she told him what,s up nothing i just need to see you its important ok ill be there see ya soon bye she said,cordell got into his pickup truck and drove to the square where he waited for Emily to show up he sat in the middle of the square at a table directly facing the road so he could see her before she seen him ,the minutes went by quickly and before he knew it she was pulling into a parking spot he watched her as got out and started to walk over to his table he stood up as she approached him and he kissed the side of her check whats up anything wrong she asked him ,cordell shook his head you tell me he said why did you threaten Grace & me it was blackmail you know that right wait stop she nodded i can explain ,explain what how you took her away from me how this was all your fault?thats not what i meant Emily spoke i need to let you know why i did it i love you,no you just wanted what you couldnt have isnt that right you knew i loved her ,you knew how i felt about her and you didnt say a thing ,you probally knew she loved me as well is that why you did it ? i didnt mean to you didnt mean to what hurt me how did you think i was gonna react did you think i was gonna just fall into bed with you was that it ,Emily grabbed his hand i love you not her,cordell slowly removed her hand from his im sorry i dont feel the same yes you do i know you do she started to become violent and adutanted no i dont cordell tried to be calm with her as she was going off on him he decided it was time to just walk away as she tried holding on to him .you cant just walk away she cried as cordell fled,Grace was alone back at her moms old place and cordell knew he would find her there so he wasted no time after his meeting with Emily he knew now what had happened so he was headed to comfront her once again ,when he reached the porch of her house he started to feel those old feelings surface as he knocked on the door Grace peaked out to see who it was can i come in he asked sure she lead him inside i talked to Emily really Grace said howd that go i know what you told me was true i was just mad and hurt im sorry for the things i said to you apology accepted ,she told him he stood there learing at her what whats wrong she asked how could do that to me ,cordell i told you no i mean really how could you just walk away knowing how i felt about you i didnt want to cause trouble for you i wasnt sure if you felt the way i did ,so i just gave in to her demands it was easier than being rejected by you ,how can you say that you know id never reject you,he took a step foward and placed his hands around to cradle her face im in love with you how could you not see that he leaned down and softly kissed her pink lips she could feel her body clinging to his every word i want to be with you not Emily .Grace was so excited she threw her arms around him and squezed him so tight as if she never wanted to let go the tension was mounting the heat from his touch made her dizzy,maybe we should move this to your bedroom cordell implied catching her breath yes maybe we

“Jesus, Y/N.” “I’m fine.” “Yeah, you look fine. F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” “Yes sir?”

You rolled your eyes at the soft, feminine voice that floated up from the hidden speakers around the room.

“Call …”

Steve’s voice trailed off.

“Who am I supposed to call when the team physician is in need of a physician?” “First of all, Cap, don’t call me a physician. It’s 2019. I’m a doctor.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as you went on.

“Second of all, I’m fine.”

Steve poked your side and you flinched back from him, breath catching in your throat at the pain that was rolling through you at those few movements.

“Son of a bitch!” “Yeah, you’re fine. F.R.I.D.A.Y., call Dr. Banner.” “He’s not even a real doctor.”

Steve smiled as your shoulders heaved up and down, still trying to catch your breath.

“Still got an M.D. behind his name.”

You rolled your eyes and Steve pointed towards the door.

“I will carry you.” “I can walk. Jesus. So pushy. Who decided you were the boss and why didn’t I get a vote?” “I’m a captain. I outrank you all.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching the stairs. You grasped the bannister, stepping down and stopping on the top step. You took in a sharp breath, closing your eyes and shaking your head.

“Oh, jeez.”

Steve scooped you into his arms a mere second before you passed out. He jogged down the rest of the steps, walking through the infirmary doors. Bucky was sitting on the table there, legs swinging off the side.

“Hey, where’s— oh shit.”

He hopped off the table, wincing and hopping once, shaking out his leg. Steve raised an eyebrow and Bucky sighed.

“Tweaked my ankle. I just wanted to come bother her. She alright?” “Yeah, looks like it, doesn’t it?”

Bucky pressed his lips together and Steve sighed.

“She was hobbling around the living area. Any idea how that could have happened?” “Wha—why come at me like that?”

Steve rolled his eyes, glancing up as Bruce walked into the room, wiping his glasses off on his white coat. He slid the glasses onto his face.

“You guys know I don’t do medical things, right?” “She did say you weren’t a real doctor.”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

“I am a real doctor. Just … in biochemistry. Not … medicine.”

Bruce walked over to the table, murmuring for Steve’s help to lift you and remove the coat you were wearing. Steve whistled softly when dark bruises on your arms were revealed.

“Christ. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Steve and Bruce glanced at Bucky, who gently rolled his metal fingers over the bruises. Bruce cleared his throat.

“Can you go find Natasha or Wanda? I could use some help getting her in a gown and I don’t think she’d want either of you to see her like that.”

Steve nodded, lying you back on the table and stepping away, clamping a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Come on, Buck.”

Bucky let out a breath, slowly nodding before turning and following Steve towards the door, stopping at the doorframe and glancing back at you.

“Hey. How you feeling?”

You grunted, making Wanda giggle. You shuffled into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge, taking out a bottle of water and wincing as you twisted the top. You took a sip and sighed, turning slowly and shuffling towards Wanda. She was sitting back with her arms crossed, watching you, the spoon in her tea slowly stirring in a circle. You shook your head, a soft smile on your face as you set your water bottle on the table across from her.

“Show off.”

She smiled.

“I’m tired of using my hands.” “Not all of us have that luxury, you know.” “You need me to stir your water, Doc?” “Smart ass.”

Wanda laughed, and you sucked in a breath before letting it out slowly. Wanda’s spoon settled against the side of the cup and she lifted it to her lips before setting it on a napkin. She picked up the cup and took a sip, then spoke softly.

“You feeling any better?”

You tilted your head from side to side.

“My ribs hurt like a bitch. Bruce said there were three completely broken and two cracked. I’m all wrapped up like a cocoon, but it still hurts.” “Anything I can do?” “Yeah, grab me a few dozen Tylenols.”

Wanda laughed, but the cabinet near the sink opened and an industrial-sized bottle of the painkillers floated into Wanda’s hand. You laughed, one hand grabbing your side and whining until she opened the bottle and shook two pills into her hand. She handed them to you and you nodded, shaking your head as the top twisted off your water bottle.

“You’re the real MVP, Wanda.”

She grinned and you downed the pills, draining most of the water bottle. You closed your eyes and just breathed for a moment, forcing your lungs to expand through the pain. After a few deep, painful breaths, Wanda spoke.

“So how exactly did you get all banged up?”

Your nose wrinkled.

“Oh, yeah. You got to sit out this little ‘milk run,’ didn’t you?”

She nodded and you sighed as you blinked your eyes open.

“I just started training, you know? Tony finally agreed to let me out of the compound on something other than a doctor basis. And what happens? Bucky freakin’ Barnes. He’s all ‘you good?’ when I am most certainly not good. But he didn’t even ask, you know? I mean he did ask, but he didn’t stick around to hear the answer! All he thinks about is his own damn self.” “I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose.”

You shot her a look that had her shrinking back, hands up in an apologetic way. You shook your head.

“He’s such a … dick. I could have died out there, you know?”

Wanda nodded sympathetically and you shook your head.

“Well, I’m sure that was my first and last mission. At least, it will be once Tony gets back. But, until then—“ “Everyday you’re shufflin’?”

You glared at Sam as he walked into the room, sweatshirt soaked from his run. He cackled as he walked to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water that he drained. You shook your head, not even dignifying him with a response as you … damn it. You shuffled back towards your room.

“Hey, crip! How goes it?”

You heard Wanda sharp inhale, Sam’s soft groan, all followed by Steve’s fatherly sigh. You glared over your shoulder at Bucky, who wiggled his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, picking up your shuffling pace again, but lifting the hand on your uninjured side, flipping Bucky off and making Sam laugh.

As the weeks went on, your injuries lessened to the point where you could go almost a full day without feeling pain. Tony, as you’d expected, fully blew a gasket when he got home and was given a report of your injuries. He banished you to the clinic, and Pepper promised you that she’d work on him, but you resigned yourself to the fact that you’d just be the Avengers’ doctor, instead of an Avenger yourself.

Luckily for you, being the Avengers’ doctor was an almost full-time job. You patched at least one of them up on a daily basis, some more than others (i.e. Clint and Sam). You also kept busy on a direct video line to Wakanda, where you were working on a project with Shuri.

You’d just signed off with her when the doors to the clinic burst open, Bucky rushing in with a limp Natasha in his arms. You turned to face him, motioning to a room that he ran into, laying her on the table, babbling almost incoherently as he pushed his fingers through his hair. You noticed that Natasha was breathing fine, and pressing your fingers to her neck, you felt how strong her pulse was. There was no visible bleeding or any other sort of injury, so you turned back to Bucky. His eyes were wide and his skin was pale, and you walked to stand in front of him, reaching up and grabbing his face in your hands, yanking him down to your level.

“Breathe.”

He stared at you, and you threaded your fingers into his hair, tugging gently.

“Breathe, Barnes.”

He did, following your lead at inhaling and holding the breath before exhaling slowly. You nodded and he nodded back at you.

“What happened?”

He shook his head, which was still in your hands.

“I don’t know. One minute she was fine, the next, she just crumpled. She’s been out cold ever since.” “How long ago did she pass out?”

He shook his head again.

“Ten, twenty minutes?” “Anybody else around do like her?”

He shook his head, and you finally moved your hands from him. You felt your cheeks heat up as you turned away from him and Bucky lifted a hand to brush against his cheek. He tilted his head when he saw you combing through Nat’s fiery hair.

“What are you doing?” “I’m thinking tranq, but I don’t know where. It’s not obvious.”

Bucky watched you as you held her face, studying it before you began unbuttoning her blouse.

“You can go now.” “What if you need help?” “Then I’ll call for it. She’ll kill us both if she finds out you were here when I undressed her.” “She and I have a pretty extensive background together, you know.” “And if you’d like any kind of future, you’ll show yourself out.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but made his way to the door. He held a hand on the knob, then shook his head, opening it and walking away.

Natasha had fallen victim to a new kind of tranquilizer. This new kind pretty much dissolves through clothing, until it latches onto skin, where it quickly takes effect. She was more pissed off than anything else, once she’d woken up hours later.

You sat in your office and tapped a pen against the notepad you had on the desk. You couldn’t shake how scared Bucky had looked, how downright frantic he seemed, and the way he calmed almost instantly when you put your hands on him. You’d never noticed just how blue his eyes were until you were staring into them from only inches away.

You huffed out a breath and tossed the pen onto the desk. You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the wall.

Bucky had been nothing but a pain in your ass since you stepped foot into the Avengers compound. He’d started out being short with you, questioning your skills, refusing to let you treat his very minor injuries that were soon cured by the serum pumping through his veins. You’d grown to dread seeing him at any point during your day, so naturally, once Tony convinced you to move in, since missions happened at all hours of the day and night and injuries had no timeline, he’d placed you in a room just down the hall from Bucky’s.

Of course, Bucky didn’t use his room all that much. Claimed he’d slept enough in his hundred years. He didn’t say that to you—you’d overheard him talking with Wanda once day. He was surprisingly gentle with her.

As time went on, his bristliness wore off, and he went from prickly and standoffish to downright annoying the living hell out of you. When you expressed your desire to go out on a mission, Steve let you train with Bucky a total of one times, before you threatened to grab a gun and shoot him or else dunk him in water and let his arm rust off. Steve took over your training then.

Wasn’t enough, because when you finally did get to go on a mission, the person you thought would have your back all but fed you to the wolves.

Your all-but-healed ribs gave a painful throb then, as if to drive home the point. You sighed, shaking your head. You and Barnes were nothing but acquaintances. Enemies, would be more like it. He annoyed the shit out of you and you had to constantly talk yourself out of seeing just how much sedative it would take to make the former Winter Soldier pliant.

Or, even better, comatose.

You studied the cards in your hand, picking one up from the deck. You tried to keep your face from showing that it was the card you needed, and as you discarded your final card, you laid your cards out on the table.

“Gin.” “Son of a bitch.”

You laughed at Clint, who laid his cards down and jammed a finger on the table.

“One card. I’ve needed one damn card for the last seven rounds.”

He groaned and leaned back in his chair and Natasha scooped the cards up, bringing them closer to her and beginning to shuffle them. You smiled and grabbed a chip from the bowl between you and Clint, popping it in your mouth.

“What is that, five to one now?” “Don’t you even start.”

Natasha laughed as she shuffled.

“She’s a shark, Clint. Didn’t you know?” “Apparently not.”

You shrugged your shoulders, popping another chip into your mouth.

“Gambling, really?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh as Steve walked up, hands on his hips and what you’d lovingly named his “disappointed dad” look on his face. He shook his head, but Bucky pulled out the chair next to Natasha.

“Deal me in. What are we playing?” “Doc’s kicking our asses in gin.” “Rummy?”

You rolled your eyes, eating another chip instead of giving the snarky remark on your tongue. Natasha nodded, finally satisfied with her shuffling. She began dealing the cards and Steve sighed, pulling out the chair next to you.

“Might as well join in.” “Look at ol’ Cap, giving in to peer pressure.” “Oh, you just hush.”

You laughed, waiting until Natasha had dealt everyone’s cards before you picked up your hand. It really wasn’t your fault that this was your game. You moved a few cards around, keeping them close to you, because you knew Steve had a wandering eye, as much as he’d deny it. You let the game go through two rounds, drawing a card and laying it on the discard pile.

“Gin.” “Oh, are you kidding me?” “I’m done with you.”

You laughed as Clint pushed his chair back from the table, taking your empty beers and carrying them to the kitchen. Steve leaned over, studying your cards, then shaking his head.

“Did you cheat?” “Nope. I’m just lucky.”

Bucky snorted and you clenched your teeth together, refusing to give in. You pushed your chair back from the table and stood up.

“I’m grabbing some more snacks. Any requests?”

Natasha raised her hand.

“The hummus we brought back from Lebanon.”

You nodded, and Steve looked up at you.

“Do we have anymore of those strawberries from Louisiana?” “I think so.”

He winked at you and you looked over at Bucky. He lifted his chin.

“I want some—“ “Don’t care.”

You turned and walked out, leaving Steve and Natasha nearly falling off of their chairs with laughter. You were smiling when you met Clint in the kitchen and he raised an eyebrow at you. You shook your head, going to the refrigerator for the snack requests.

“What exactly is it about Barnes that rubs you the wrong way?”

Your eyes widened as you turned from the fridge, staring at him.

“What?” “You heard me. Soon as he walks in, you get all … prickly. Why?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“He doesn’t like me.” “And you don’t like him back?” “He’s never been my buddy, Clint. He’s not like you or Nat. We started off on the wrong foot and it’s just been downhill ever since.” “Why don’t you give him a chance?” “Because the last time I did, I ended up with five broken ribs.”

Clint made a face.

“Fair enough.”

You shook your head, grabbing a platter out of one of the cabinets and loading it down with snacks. Clint grabbed enough beers for the table, and the two of you made your way back into the room. You scattered the snacks among those who requested them, sitting in your chair and watching Bucky shuffle the cards. You hated to admit it, but you were kind of fascinated by his metal arm. You knew how deadly it could be; you’d seen it firsthand. But, like now, he was shuffling the cards almost gently. The arm seemed to be an anomaly in itself.

“Earth to the good doctor.”

You blinked, cheeks flushing when you looked to Steve.

“What?”

He smiled that pristine toothpaste advertisement grin of his and you rolled your eyes.

“I said, Buck wants to switch the game up. Are you such a shark at poker?”

You shrugged.

“I can hold my own.” “Yeah, we’ll see.”

You narrowed your eyes at Clint as he popped the top on his beer and tossed it into the trash can across the room.

Four hands later, you and Bucky were neck-and-neck. Steve had won the first round, but you and Bucky had switched off every other. Steve, Natasha, and Clint were really just watching now, playing just enough to get the game going before folding.

You tapped a finger on the cards in your hand, looking across the table at Bucky. He had a deep frown on his face, lines carved into his forehead as he studied his cards. The way tonight was going, along with the beers you’d had, gave you a little more courage than you usually would.

“Hey, Barnes.”

He nodded at you, not pulling his eyes from his cards.

“Want to make this a little more interesting?” “I’m not playing strip poker, no matter how much you beg.”

Steve nearly spit his beer out, while Natasha bent over laughing. You rolled your eyes, glancing at the cards on the table.

“You’re such a jerk.”

Bucky looked up then, giving you a wink and a smile.

“What’re you thinking?”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“If I win, then you clean my clinic for a month.” “And when I win?” “If you win … I don’t know. Whatever.”

Bucky licked his lips, glancing down at his cards before bringing his eyes back to you. You swallowed at the look he gave you, your traitorous mind going places you’d never imagined before. He lifted his metal arm, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before coming to rest on the table. You missed the way Natasha’s eyes widened, how she looked to Clint who just shook his head once, shushing her silently.

“You know those … those things that you bake?”

You rolled your eyes, but nodded. Bucky’s sweet tooth was legendary in the compound, and he’d made no qualms in letting everyone know that while he didn’t care for you, you could bake like a wizard. He leveled his eyes at you.

“When I win, you make me whatever I want, whenever I want.”

You pushed a smile forward.

“Deal.”

He nodded, and you took in a breath, turning your cards over.

“Straight, in diamonds.”

Clint whistled low and all eyes turned to Bucky. He bit his bottom lip, then sighed, turning his cards face down on the table.

“I fold.”

You jumped up, punching your fists in the air. You laughed as Natasha ran around the table, putting her head down, whispering to you about how exactly you managed that. You wrapped an arm around her waist and the two of you made your way into the kitchen.

Bucky watched you leave, oblivious to Clint and Steve stealthily turning his cards over.

“What the hell, man?”

Bucky looked to Clint, sighing when he saw his cards face-up.

“Don’t.” “You had a royal flush. You beat her.” “Shut up, Clint.” “But a flush beats a straight every time!” “Shut up, Clint.”

Bucky pushed away from the table, rubbing a hand over his head as he walked away. Clint looked to Steve, who shook his head as he leaned back in his chair.

“He’s got it bad.”

Clint huffed out a breath, leaning back in his own chair and propping his feet on the table.

“Almost as bad as she does.”

Steve nodded, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“This is bullshit.”

Steve laughed from his perch on the counter, taking a healthy bite of the apple he’d snagged from the kitchen. Bucky grumbled under his breath as he pushed a mop back and forth, cursing when he hit a tile that was slightly uneven, snagging one of the curls of the mophead. Steve shook his head.

“If you hate cleaning so much, then why did you let her win that poker game?” “Momentary lapse.”

Steve rolled his eyes, taking another bite of apple. Bucky stopped and held the mop upright, resting his regular arm on it.

“What do you think of her?” “Doc?”

Bucky nodded, and Steve swallowed the bite he was chewing.

“I like her. She’s very intelligent. Good at her job.” “I don’t want to hire her, Stevie. Jeez. I mean as a person.”

Steve smiled, bouncing his shoulders once.

“She’s nice. Funny. Genuine. She’s fun to be around.”

He took another bite of the apple, then tossed the core into the trash can across the room.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Buck. You want me to sell you on her? I don’t think you really need me to do that.”

Bucky hung his head, going back to pushing the mop across the floor. Steve smiled and looked down at his hands.

“You remember second grade?” “Vaguely. It’s buried under some HYDRA bullshit.”

Steve sighed.

“There was a little girl in our class. She sat … across the row from me. In front of you.” “Are you talking about … what was her name? Nancy? The girl with the two brown pigtails?” “Yes!”

Bucky shook his head.

“Why the hell are you thinking about her?” “It’s not so much her that I’m thinking of. Do you remember how you dipped her pigtails in the blue paint?”

Bucky smiled.

“My dad tore my ass up after that.” “And she asked you to push her on the swings and you wouldn’t.” “Because she had cooties. All the girls back then had cooties. Except my ma.” “And when we made those puppets out of the brown paper grocery sacks, you ripped hers in half.”

Bucky sighed, propping up on the mop again.

“Is there a point to this stroll down memory lane, Grandpa?”

Steve smiled.

“You liked her.” “We were kids.” “But you thought she was pretty. You told me that.” “I also told you that if you ever told anyone else, I’d knock your teeth down your throat.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to see you try.” “You’re not exactly the scrawny little shrimp you used to be, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, then met Bucky’s eyes again.

“My point is … you like Y/N. Just as much—if not more—than you liked Nancy with her pigtails.” “I do not.” “You liar.”

Bucky huffed out a breath, taking his mop and walking out of the room. Steve laughed, swinging his legs off the edge of the counter, shaking his head.

You flipped another sandwich in the pan on the stove, waiting a few moments before sliding it out of the pan and onto the plate where a monstrous stack already waited. You picked up the plate and walked down to the conference room, knocking twice before opening the door.

“Oh, Doc. Yes.”

You winked at Sam before you set the sandwiches in the middle of the table, laughing under your breath when the Avengers attacked the plate like a bunch of animals. Tony sauntered towards you, a sandwich in one hand that he took a bite of as he stopped in front of you, narrowing his eyes.

“I thought I banished you from the conference room.” “I can take my sandwiches and go—“ “No!”

You laughed at the chorus of negative responses, and even Tony couldn’t help but smile. He shook his head and you lifted your shoulders.

“I’m not here to be briefed. You’d all been in here for a while and I thought you might need …” “Sustenance.” “Exactly. Thanks, Thor.”

He gave you a thumbs up—much better than when he’d flipped you off without truly understanding what that meant a few weeks prior—and reached for another sandwich. Tony nodded, taking a bite and turning away from you. You glanced towards the screen that all but filled up one wall, blinking when you saw the photos. You tore your eyes away when Natasha cleared her throat and you glanced to her. She shrugged, giving you a wink. You swallowed, pushing a smile onto your face.

“When do you roll out?”

Quiet fell over the room until Bucky spoke up.

“1700 hours.”

You nodded, glancing at your watch before looking back at the screen. You licked your lips.

“Be careful.”

You turned to leave, stopping at the door and glancing back, surprised to find a pair of ice blue eyes looking back at you.

You paced around the entire compound while everyone was gone. You cleaned every space you could, including Wanda’s room, which she’d given you an open invitation to any time, and Thor’s, because he never minded or really bothered to clean much. You scrubbed the showers while wearing a mask you’d brought up from the clinic. You slept on the couch in the living room, jolting awake at regular intervals, at any little noise, until F.R.I.D.A.Y. lulled you to sleep with ambient noise and a promise that she’d wake you if something happened.

Five days went by without a word from anyone. F.R.I.D.A.Y. kept you up-to-date as best she could, but your heart leapt to your throat and set up camp there when she stopped updating you and went quiet.

You sat in your clinic, on the floor that you knew was clean, hands clasped together, eyes closed. You refused to check the news or anything else, knowing that it would just drive you out of your mind with worry. Well … more than you already were.

“Doctor.”

You opened your eyes, unable to speak. F.R.I.D.A.Y. must have sensed that, because she went ahead and briefed you.

“The quinjet is sixty miles out. They’ve got a critical patient on board.” “Who is it, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” “Agent Barton.”

You groaned, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Goddamn it, Clint. Laura’s going to kill me.”

You walked towards the scrub room, tying up your hair and shoving it under a scrub cap on the way.

“How bad is it?” “Three gunshot wounds. Vitals are very low.” “Give ‘em to me.”

You tied a mask on your face as F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke, stepping over to the sink and stepping on the button that turns the water on.

“Blood pressure seventy over forty. Respirations of nine. Heartbeat is eighty-two and falling.” “Damn it, Clint.”

You scrubbed your nails and your hands, your forearms all the way up to your elbows. You tried to steady your breathing, looking into the sterile room where one of your friends would soon be rushed into.

“They’re here, Doctor.”

You swallowed, nodding your head, stepping through the doors and over to the table where your instruments waited. You dried your hands on the special towels, slipping on a gown and tying it. You slid your hands into the sterile gloves, breathing in through your nose and exhaling through your mouth. The mask tended to make you feel claustrophobic, but you knew that would all fade as soon as Clint was rolled into the room.

Tony had decked out your medical suite with nothing but top-of-the-line equipment. The best part, according to you, was the full-body scan that occurred just before the patient entered the operating room. Despite your best efforts, Tony insisted on the gallery, and you tried your best not to look up to see all your friends staring down, watching you attempt to save the lives of the people on your table.

You heard the clicks and whirrs that signaled an incoming patient, and you took in a breath just as the doors opened and the stretcher wheeled into the room. You walked to the table as the side rails dropped, breath catching in your throat when you saw Clint’s face. You shook your head and grabbed a pair of scissors from your table.

“It’s your lucky day, Barton. Welcome to the Fun Zone. F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up the body scan.”

She did, and you looked at it as you cut Clint’s clothes away.

“Three entry wounds, but only one exit.” “He would make it as difficult as he could. The shoulder was a through-and-through?” “Appears that way.”

You nodded, squinting your eyes.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., enhance the liver.”

She did, and you breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared unscathed.

“Now the kidneys.”

You grabbed a sheet, draping it over the lower half of Clint’s body before you picked up a scalpel.

“Spleen.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. enlarged the spleen for you, and you shook your head.

“Let’s do the upper portion of the small intestine.” “Doctor, his blood pressure is bottoming out.” “Shit.”

You stared at the scan, eyes widening.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., enlarge the thoracic cavity.”

She did, and you cursed under your breath. You looked down at Clint’s chest, swallowing before you pressed the scalpel into his flesh. The machine that worked as your scrub nurse handed you the different instruments you needed without you having to ask for them. You looked up at the scan again, shaking your head and cracking Clint’s chest open, watching the cavity fill with blood.

“You are not doing this to me today, Barton. Not today.”

The machine beside you turned the suction on, and you did your best not to let the sight or the sound turn your stomach. You looked back up at the scan, tilting your neck from side to side, hearing a soft cracking before you settled in to work.

“Al… most … got it!”

You held the bullet up, shaking your head.

“Little bastard.”

You heard applause, and you looked up, feeling your cheeks heat when you saw Natasha’s relief and Tony’s proud papa smile. You rolled your eyes, dropping the bullet into the small basin the machine brought over to you. You lifted your eyes back to the scan and shook your head.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., where’s the other bullet?” “You were wanting to check the small intestine.”

You shook your head.

“It’s not there.” “I can bring up—“

Alarms began blaring and you cursed as you grabbed towels to try and clear away the blood suddenly filling Clint’s chest again. The sound of the suction was roaring in your ears as you reached a hand in, gently moving Clint’s heart out of the way.

“Damn it. Damn it!” “Doctor?” “The bullet traveled up to his heart. Put him on bypass.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. did as you asked, as well as turning on the countdown clock on the wall. You worked as quickly as you could, deliberately ignoring the gallery, where you were sure Tony and Natasha still were. Time seemed to drag on, even as it flew by.

“Doctor, he’s been under too long.” “I’ve almost got it.” “He needs to come off bypass in the next thirty seconds.” “I know, F.R.I.D.A.Y., but I’ve almost got it.” “Doctor, you’re risking permanent brain damage—“ “I know the risks! Just shut up for one minute.”

The seconds ticked by loudly in the silence of the room. Just as the last second clicked down on the clock on the wall, you lifted the bullet from Clint’s heart.

“Got it. Take him off.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. turned off the machines and you stared at the screen beside the table. A flat line was all that appeared and you nodded.

“Charge to 200.”

The machine beside you whirred into action and you lifted your hands.

“Shock.”

Clint’s body twitched on the table, but the flat line remained on the screen.

“250.”

The machine whirred again and you kept your hands lifted.

“Shock.”

Another twitch, but the flat line still remained. You swallowed.

“300.”

You kept your eyes on the screen, clenching your hands into fists.

“Shock.”

Clint’s body gave a bigger twitch, and before you could say anything, a blip appeared on the screen. A steady, rising heartbeat, along with a normal blood pressure, made you give a sigh of relief, hanging your head as grateful tears came to your eyes. You nodded, draping a section of what looked like plastic wrap over Clint’s chest. Once it was in place, his bed moved to take him to a room down the hall, where Dr. Cho’s fancy machine would close him up without any stitches and minimal scarring.

You blew out a breath, reaching back and untying your gown, dropping it into a bin, followed by your gloves. You looked up then, a soft smile crossing your face when Tony gave you a thumbs up. Natasha, surprisingly, had her eyes closed while encased in Bruce’s arms. He smiled at you and you gave him a nod. You left the operating room, yanking the mask off your face as you went back to the scrub room to re-wash your hands and arms.

“Doctor, there’s another incoming.”

You stopped, removing your foot from the water pedal.

“What? Who?” “Captain Rogers has radioed in. They were caught in an ambush.” “Who’s hurt, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” “Sergeant Barnes.”

Your heart gave a stutter in your chest. You blinked, shaking your head.

“He’s got the serum. What will I be able to do?” “It seems he’s bleeding out faster than the serum can work.”

You sucked in a breath then, tying another mask on your face and stomping on the water pedal, washing your hands as thoroughly and quickly as you could. The machines worked double-time to renew the operating room, setting out new instruments and sterilizing the place. You walked into the room and dried your hands, slipping into a gown and new gloves.

The door opened and the stretcher was brought in. Your breath caught in your throat when you caught sight of him, pale and still on the bed. You swallowed.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., show me the body scan.”

She projected it onto the wall for you and your eyes widened when you saw the blood filling his belly.

“Doc.”

You glanced up, seeing Steve’s terrified face in the gallery. He stood beside the intercom on the wall and you shook your head as you looked back to Bucky. .

“What the hell happened, Steve?” “I don’t know. He—damn idiot pushed me out of the way. There was a knife. I don’t—he passed out and he won’t wake up.” “Must have nicked an artery.”

You reached back and picked up a scalpel, stopping when you heard Steve’s choked voice.

“Doc, you … you gotta save him. Please, just … don’t let him die.”

You swallowed, looking up and seeing the tears sparkling in Steve’s eyes. You shook your head.

“Bruce?”

He stepped closer to the speaker on the wall.

“Yeah?” “Get him out of here.”

You heard Steve begin to protest, Tony’s voice begin to speak, Bruce’s stammering refusal, and you let out a hard laugh.

“If you want me to save his life, then you better get Captain America and his watery, puppy dog, ‘please save my best friend’ eyes out of here because I can’t stand it. I’m sorry, Steve. But you’ve got to go.”

You heard Steve begging them to let him stay, heard Tony gently ushering him out, promising to take the blame if something went wrong. You shook your head.

“Nothing's going wrong. Not today. You hear me, Barnes? You’re not dying on me today. Too many damn people have tried to take out the Winter Soldier and I will be damned if I let you fall to … whoever the hell did this.”

You shook your head, laying the scalpel aside and suctioning some of the blood out of Bucky’s abdomen.

“Jesus, there’s so much blood. F.R.I.D.A.Y., shift the scan twenty-five degrees, and remove the abdominal organs.”

She did, and you studied the branches of arteries and veins.

“Zoom in ten percent.”

She did, and you felt around as you studied the scan. Your eyebrows lifted.

“Zoom in to the abdominal aorta, six centimeters below the kidneys.”

She did, and you shook your head.

“Son of a bitch. There you are.”

You grabbed some sutures and sewed up the small nick you’d discovered.

“No other internal injuries detected, other than soft tissue swelling to his face and extremities.” “Thank God for small favors. What’s his blood levels?” “Low. He’s not replenishing the way he should.”

You shook your head.

“Probably a result of the serum. He should kick it up soon.” “Doctor, his platelets are dangerously low.” “How low?”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. brought Bucky’s lab results up for you and you let out a shaky breath.

“Damn it. He needs blood and he needs it now.”

You closed your eyes as F.R.I.D.A.Y. said what you were afraid she’d say.

“The available units were sent to Chicago after the mass shooting there.” “Damn it. Bring up Barnes’ file. What blood type is he?” “A negative, Doctor.”

You lifted your head.

“Are you kidding me?”

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t answer, and you shook your head.

“Is there anyone else in this compound with A negative blood?” “No one but you, Doctor.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., get Dr. Banner in here now.”

You finished the last suture on Bucky’s side and looked at his pale face.

“You owe me, Barnes.”

You pushed back, pulling your gown off and tossing your gloves into the trash bin. You picked up a few things and set them on the table, unrolling tubing and hooking it up, grabbing an alcohol pad and swiping it across your arm. You glanced up as Bruce stepped into the scrub room and you shook your head.

“He’s closed. I need you in here now.”

Bruce stepped through the door, holding a mask to his face.

“I don’t do medical things. How many times do I have to tell you?” “You can start an IV, right?” “Of course.” “Here. Start one on me.”

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed over the mask.

“What? Why?” “Barnes needs blood now and I’m the only one with the same blood type.”

Bruce shook his head.

“Somebody here’s got to be O negative.” “I don’t have time to check. Come on. If you don’t do it, I’m going to and I’d rather not butcher my arm if I can help it. ”

Bruce huffed out a breath and you shook the needle towards him. He grabbed it from you and you nodded, holding your arm out towards him.

“There’s a juicy one right in the crook. Go for it.” “Don’t make me nervous.” “Don’t turn green and we’ll be fine.”

Bruce let out a laugh at that and you sucked in a breath as he slid the needle into your vein. You pressed your lips together as he connected one end of the tubing, and the two of you watched as blood from your arm began traveling through the tubing and disappearing into Bucky’s arm.

“Turn it wide open.” “We’ll let it go for a minute, then slow it down.” “He needs all he can get, Bruce.” “Yeah, but we don’t want to drain you dry in the meantime.”

You shifted, making a face as the tubes pulled at your arm.

“You better sit down before your legs give out.” “I’m fine.” “Have you given blood before? Do they let you stand up while you give it? No, because they’re removing blood from your body. Stop trying to be a hero and sit down.”

You sat on the end of Bucky’s bed, blinking widely. Bruce lifted your chin with his hand.

“You okay?”

You nodded, lifting your other arm, weakly batting his hand away. Bruce looked at you with that same worried look and shook his head.

“Hey, talk to me.”

You shook your head.

“It’s … I think it’s the serum.” “What about the serum?” “It’s like … a vacuum. Hard and fast.”

Bruce glanced over, seeing how pink and healthy Bucky now appeared, while you grew paler by the second. Bruce shook his head.

“We need to stop.”

He reached for your arm and you shook your head, weakly batting at his hands.

“He needs it.” “Not at the risk of killing you.” “Don’t … stop.” “Doc, you’re going to lose consciousness soon.” “Don’t … let …  him ... die.”

The last thing you heard was Bruce’s frantic voice before the darkness that had been dancing at the edges of your vision suddenly swooped in and sucked you under.

You slowly blinked your eyes open, feeling beyond exhausted. Your body seemed too heavy, and you would have closed your eyes again, had you not noticed the flash of red in the corner.

Natasha smiled as she stood, walking over to you.

“Hey, Doc. How you feeling?” “Tired.”

Your voice was hoarse and Natasha turned away, returning with a cup with a straw in it.

“Small sips.”

You nodded, taking a sip and giving a soft moan at the cool water soothing your dry mouth. Natasha took the cup back and you smacked your lips, letting out a sigh.

“You want the lecture now or later?”

You smiled as you closed your eyes.

“Give me five minutes.”

Natasha smiled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Do you know how dangerous that was? What might have happened if Bruce hadn’t been there?” “That’s why … I called him. I knew he’d … take care of me.” “Well, you needed blood yourself after that. Tony had to fly to Montana to get it.”

You glanced to the side, looking up and seeing an almost-empty bag hanging on the pole connected to your bed, bright red running through a tube into your arm.

“Is Bucky okay?”

Natasha snorted.

“Seriously? After everything that happened here, he’s who you’re worried about?” “Nat, I’m going to be sick.”

She softened, rushing to help you sit up and holding your hair back as you threw up into the trash can she handed you. She wiped your mouth when you were through, helping you lay back down, wiping the tears from your cheeks. She sighed.

“He hasn’t woken up yet.” “How … how long?” “It’s been twenty-seven hours since you passed out in the O.R.”

You blinked, shaking your head.

“He should … be awake … by now.”

Natasha nodded.

“All his tests are back to normal. F.R.I.D.A.Y. has orders to scan him twice a day. There’s no reason why he’s still out.”

You sighed, reaching up a hand and rubbing it on the end of your nose. Natasha smiled.

“You feeling any better?” “Maybe a … little.”

Natasha smiled, pulling the blanket up as you shivered.

“Steve’s been bouncing from your room to Bucky’s. He said he’s still mad at you for banishing him from the gallery.” “I am not.”

You smiled as Steve stepped into the room, taking hold of Natasha’s shoulders and kissing her cheek. She stepped back and he knelt beside your bed, taking your hand.

“How you feeling?” “Like I got hit by a truck.”

He smiled, reaching to brush your hair back.

“You saved his life.”

You rolled your head to look him in the eye.

“I couldn’t let him die, Steve. I just did what … any doctor would do.” “I don’t know many doctors who would stick a needle in their own arm for a patient.” “Maybe she’s saying he’s not just a patient.”

You rolled your head back, staring up at the ceiling and sighing. Steve’s thumb rolled over the back of your hand and you closed your eyes. Natasha laid her hands on Steve’s shoulders, gently kneading them.

“Rest, Doc. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

It took you longer than anticipated to recover from being Bucky’s blood donor. Bruce and Tony were working overtime to try and figure out why the serum had reacted the way it did, nearly sucking your blood supply dry to reinforce Bucky’s. Bucky had woken up an hour after you, with no memory of the mission, but feeling better than he had in years.

He avoided you, though. Even when Bruce had deemed you healthy enough to return to work, Bucky wouldn’t step foot in the clinic. It was spotless every time you stepped through the doors, though.

You found yourself in the kitchen more often, perfecting recipes you’d long memorized, even taking the time to come up with some new ones of your own. You often found yourself wondering what Bucky would think of the desserts, and you often tried to take a plate to his room, but you’d always chicken out and leave before you would see him.

You had entirely too much time on your hands. Not that you’d want your team to go on a mission and come back needing you, but you were kind of antsy. You were in one of your clinic rooms, building a house out of tongue depressors and Q-tips when a sudden, blaring alarm began sounding, the power shutting off and red lights flashing. You jumped off of the stool you were sitting on, hands going to cover your ears.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. what the hell is going on?!” “It seems the compound has been breached.” “Breached?! What do you mean ‘breached?!’”

She didn’t answer and you felt your heart begin to pound in your chest. You felt your breathing speed up, feeling claustrophobic in the clinic, but unsure of what you needed to do. You looked around, trying to remember where things that you could use as weapons were stocked, going still and covering your mouth in order not to scream as a large figure loomed in the flashing red lights.

“Doc, you okay?”

You could have cried when you heard his voice. You rushed to him, metal arm wrapping around your waist. You shook your head, laying a hand to his thick chest.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky shook his head.

“HYDRA goons. Steve and Tony have it handled.” “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Your eyes widened as you ducked in a breath. The two of you looked over to see a man stepping forward with what appeared to be a machine gun in his hand. Bucky stepped forward, subtly pushing you behind him and shielding you with his body. The man smiled, speaking in Russian, using words you didn’t understand, but you couldn’t miss the way Bucky went completely still, spine ramrod straight.

“Fuck you. Never again. I will never—“

The man replied in Russian, and you watched Bucky hang his head, teeth bared and eyes squeezed shut. As the man spoke again, Bucky groaned and you rushed to him, covering one of his ears with your hand, putting your lips right at his other ear.

“Tony built a panic room. We can get to it from any room in the clinic. Once I press the button, we’ve got eight seconds to get in, but once we're in, we’re there until he puts the code in to let us out.” “Go.” “I’m not going without you.”

He lifted his head and you covered his other ear with your hand. He stared into your eyes, both of you flinching when the man fired off a round from his gun. Bucky’s eyes hardened, and you grabbed his hand, squeezing it and taking off at a run. Bucky followed as the man began shooting, covering you with his body as best you could. You reached the supply closet of the room, pressed the button only you knew about, and the floor gave way, letting you slide into the panic room. Bucky was right behind you, and just like you were hoping, the floor righted itself before the man could join you.

You were breathing hard, heart racing as your legs crumpled beneath you and you sat on the floor.

“You okay?” “Ad—adrenaline rush.”

Bucky nodded, groaning as he sat beside you. You glanced to him and sucked in a breath before crawling to him.

“Jesus.” “I’m fine.”

You huffed out a breath, going up on your knees and studying the bleeding wound on his shoulder.

“I think he just grazed you.” “Like I said, I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’ve certainly had enough of you bleeding, so will you just shut up and let me help you?”

Bucky tossed his hair back out of his face to meet your eyes. He sighed and you pushed to your feet, going to a small cabinet in the room and opening it up. Inside, you’d stocked a first aid kit with all the medical equipment you could. You grabbed some gauze and some tape, making your way back to him.

“Take your shirt off.” “What, you’re not even going to try to buy me dinner first?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just take the damn shirt off. You’re bleeding all over it anyway.”

Bucky sighed, wincing as he shifted and removed his shirt. You made a face when you saw the jagged gash along the upper part of his bicep, taking hold of one of the alcohol wipes you’d grabbed. Bucky bared his teeth and hissed out a breath when you swiped the alcohol over his skin, and you pursed your lips, gently blowing on his wound. You laid a few pieces of gauze down, taping them as best you could, knowing the serum that coursed through his veins would probably heal him before the tape even settled against his skin.

“Okay. You’re good. Anything else hurt?”

Bucky shook his head, glancing down at where your fingers were still gently resting against the thick muscle of his arm. You swallowed, moving your hands, moving them and setting them in your lap.

The silence hung thick between the two of you, and you finally pushed yourself up and began walking towards the little kitchenette in the corner of the room.

“It might be awhile before they get to us. Are you hungry?”

“Hey, I uh …”

You glanced up from the book you’d found in one of the cabinets and met Bucky’s eyes. He was sitting on the floor across from you, one knee pulled up and his metal arm resting on it. He licked his lips, then spoke again.

“I never did say thank you for … saving my life and all.”

You smiled.

“You’re welcome.” “You didn’t have to go as far as you did, but I … appreciate it.” “I couldn’t let you die, Barnes. Who would drive me literally out of my mind with annoyance if you weren’t here?”

Bucky smiled, glancing away. You watched him swallow and you set the book aside.

“What?”

His eyes were wide when he looked to you, and he moved to cross his legs. He took in a breath, then spoke again.

“There wasn’t any kind of … blowback or anything, was it?” “What do you mean?”

He swallowed again, pushing a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath before lifting his head to look at you.

“I know you gave me your blood, but … did you get any of mine?”

You blinked.

“No.” “Are you sure?”

You tilted your head to the side.

“Why are you so worried about it?” “Just … you’re sure?” “Yes, I’m positive.”

Bucky gave a hard breath of relief, hanging his head and leaning back against the wall. You shook your head as you watched him.

“Why are you so worried about it?” “No reason.” “I mean, it’s not like you’ve got any disease I can catch. The serum …”

You looked at his face, how hard his features seemed, but the pure shame and pain he couldn’t hide from his eyes. You stood up, walking over to him and sinking down to sit near him on the floor.

“Were you afraid that I’d get the serum somehow?”

Bucky shrugged his powerful shoulders, and you listened to the almost-silent clicks and whirrs of the plates in his arm as he moved it. He wouldn’t look at you, so you continued to softly talk.

“You were afraid some of your blood would get into my veins and … what? I’d become the Winter Soldier, Volume Two?”

Bucky didn’t answer, and you smiled.

“Winter Soldier, New and Improved. Winter Soldier: Better Than Before. Winter Soldier, Should Have Had a Girl to Start With, Because We Get Shit Done.”

Bucky laughed at that, then met your eyes.

“I wouldn’t wish this serum or the Winter Soldier on my worst enemy.” “Then I guess I’m good, huh?”

Bucky smiled, but looked down at his hands.

“You’re not my worst enemy.”

You pursed your lips and nodded, looking down at your own hands.

“I’m certainly not your friend.”

Bucky tilted his head towards you.

“We’re not friends?”

You let out a laugh.

“You can’t stand me.” “Is that what you think?” “If the way you treat me is how you treat one of your friends, I would hate to see what you did to your enemies.”

Bucky looked down at his metal arm and you felt your cheeks grow warm. He was quiet for a moment, before he spoke softly.

“I don't hate you.”

You swallowed, replying just as softly.

“I don’t hate you, either.”

He lifted his head at the same time you did, and you met his eyes. You gave a soft smile and he did the same, reaching over and brushing your fingers with his metal ones. Your smile widened and you leaned closer to him, moving your fingers closer, falling to your side when a powerful rumble shot through the ground. You looked up to see Bucky hovering over you, covering you with his body and you closed your eyes, ducking your head.

After a few tense seconds, the rumbling stopped. You uncurled yourself from the ball you’d been in and stared up at Bucky.

“What … what was that?”

Bucky shook his head.

“Either the compound was just nuked or …” “Bruce has gone green?”

Bucky nodded. He looked down at you and you realized how close the two of you were. You looked into his eyes and saw them darken just a bit and you swallowed.

“Bucky?”

He cleared his throat, moving away from you and getting to his feet, walking from the room. You stayed on the floor on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you blew out a breath.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for them to find us?”

Bucky shrugged. He was pacing around the main room, while you were sitting on the couch.

“People know about this panic room besides Tony, right?”

It was your turn to shrug.

“I think Pepper may know. Or Happy, maybe? One of them, surely.”

Bucky sighed.

“I’m bored.”

You let out a laugh.

“We’ve only been here for a couple of hours.” “Feels like days.” “Have you always been so restless?”

Bucky smiled.

“Kind of ADHD, Nat says.”

You rolled your eyes.

“She hit the nail on the head with that one.”

Bucky walked over to you and stood in front of the couch you were sitting on.

“Come on.” “What?” “Let’s spar.”

You let out a laugh.

“Not just ‘no,’ but hell no.” “Why not?”

You blinked at him.

“Because the last time we were in a fight together, you left me behind and I got five broken ribs as a result.”

Bucky went still.

“Are you serious?”

You held out your hands.

“You knew I got hurt.” “Yeah, but I didn’t know that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m all good now.” “I’ll go easy on you.” “Bucky, no.” “Please? I’m so bored.”

You looked up at him, the whining tone making him seem like a little boy, not a deadly former assassin. You rolled your eyes and got to your feet and Bucky grinned. You held up a hand to him.

“No punching.” “Obviously.” “Go slow, because I’m rusty.”

Bucky nodded, holding his fists up. You mirrored his stance, leaning out of the way when he slowly moved his arm in a punching motion towards you. You did the same back to him, and he easily moved out of the way.

“Not bad. Twist your wrist while moving your arm. Like this.”

He turned to the side and showed you, and you attempted the move.

“No, hang on.”

He stepped behind you, taking hold of your hand with his, slowly moving it. You closed your eyes at the warmth of him at your back, shaking your head and huffing out a breath.

“You okay?” “Yep. Just … trying to focus.” “Let’s go again.”

He moved to stand in front of you, slowly punching towards you. You dodged the blow, twisting your wrist like he’d taught you and almost punching him. He laughed, nodding his head, punching a little faster. You easily dodged him again, trying to trip him up by switching your hands, but he was too good.

After a few minutes, both of you were sweaty and breathing hard. Bucky was watching you as you twisted your hair up into a messy bun on top of your head. He swallowed, stepping closer to you and you laughed as you held up a hand.

“Let me breathe for a second.” “You think HYDRA will let you breathe when they storm the compound again?” “Oh, I didn’t realize Steve had entered the room.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re pretty good at the hand-to-hand stuff.” “Well, I trained with Steve for a good bit.”

Bucky nodded, putting his hands on his hips. You rushed to him, laying your hands on his chest and pushing, laughing when he stumbled backwards, blue eyes wide as he looked to you. You settled into your “fighting stance” that Natasha had taught you and smiled.

“First rule, Barnes. Never let your guard down.”

He slid his tongue along his teeth, giving a soft chuckle.

“That … that was good.”

You relaxed, shrugging your shoulders and turning towards the couch. You gasped when Bucky was suddenly behind you, pushing you forward until you—gently—hit the wall. You shivered when his low voice scratched at your ear.

“Second rule: never turn your back.”

You nodded, eyes closing and a gasping breath escaping your lips when Bucky dipped his head.

“God, you smell good.”

You licked your lips, leaning back into him, taking in another shaky breath as he gently pushed you into the wall a bit more, his hard body surrounding yours.

“Buck—“

You groaned when he pressed his hips forward, and you turned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in, lips locking onto his. His hands went to your waist, gripping you tightly. Your lips fought against his, his hands sliding up your body before twisting in your hair.

You let your head fall back and moaned as his lips went to your neck, sucking a dark bruise into your skin before taking hold of your hands and pinning them above your head. His metal hand gripped your wrists tightly enough that you couldn’t break his hold, and you gasped as the fingers of his other hand danced under the hem of your shirt.

“Buck, please.” “What?”

You surged forward, pressing your lips to his again, before he let you go and stepped back from you, reaching behind his head and yanking his shirt off. You did the same, reaching for him as soon as your shirt hit the floor. He wrapped his arms around you and you sucked in a breath as the coolness from his metal arm sank into your skin. You pushed your hands into his hair, surprised at how soft it felt, groaning as you all but melted into the warmth of his chest.

You somehow managed to switch your positions, pushing him against the wall and sinking to your knees. Bucky stared at you, lip between his teeth, groaning when your fingers went to the band of his jeans. You undid his belt and popped open the button, dragging the zipper down before tugging his jeans and boxers down enough to let his cock free.

“Holy shit.”

Bucky gave a laugh that quickly trailed into a groan as you wrapped your hand around him, dragging your fist up and down his hard shaft.

“Doc, you … you don’t—“

Bucky’s head fell back against the wall as you took his cock into your mouth, sucking gently as you swirled your tongue around. Bucky groaned, the fingers of his normal hand threading through your hair. You leaned back and let his cock fall out of your mouth with a “pop.”

Bucky took hold of your arms and lifted you to your feet, pushing you back against the wall and kissing your lips. He slid his hand down the front of your jeans, foregoing trying to unbutton or get them off, and you gasped, gripping his arms tightly when his fingers slipped between your legs.

“Damn, baby.”

You took hold of his face, pulling his lips back to yours, moaning into his mouth as the movement of his finger slipping into you sent shivers up and down your spine. He groaned as he slid his teeth over your skin, while two of his thick fingers kept a steady rhythm inside you.

“Bucky please.”

You whimpered at the loss of his fingers as he pulled back, using his shaky metal hand to unbutton your jeans. You kicked them off, sucking in a breath when the cool metal of Bucky’s hand brushed over your breastbone, a mere second before he snapped the front clasp of your bra open.

He groaned as he cupped your breasts in his hands, and you shivered at the sudden contrast, the warmth of one of his palms versus the coolness of his metal hand. You impatiently pushed his jeans further down his hips and he smiled at you, leaning in and kissing you more gently than he ever had as he kicked his jeans off. You sucked in a breath as he picked you up and carried you over to the couch.

You watched him as he laid you back, bracing his metal arm on the back of the couch as he leaned down and kissed you. He lifted his head and you reached up, tracing his mouth with your thumb as you laid your hand against his stubbled cheek.

“It’s been a while.”

Bucky nodded.

“I’ll go slow.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as his lips touched yours again. You took in a breath when Bucky began to slowly push forward, and at one point, you had to stop him.

“Wait. Just—please.”

He stopped, hanging his head and putting his face in your hair. You took in a shaky breath, letting it out slowly, focusing on the way his thumb kept moving in circles against your shoulder, until the stretching and fullness you felt gave way to pleasureable warmth. You nodded and he began to move, both of you groaning with the sensations.

“Fuck, babe. You …”

Bucky groaned, moving his metal hand to your hip, gripping you so tightly you knew there’d be a bruise there tomorrow. You gasped and moaned, breath heaving into and out of your lungs, a grateful groan rising from your throat when Bucky increased his rhythm. You shook your head and Bucky growled, lifting his head and shaking his hair out of his face.

“I want to feel you come.”

Your head fell back to the couch as you groaned, hands diving into his hair and lightly gripping the strands. Bucky’s hips stuttered and you smiled, bringing his lips back to yours and kissing him again, Bucky’s thrusts quickening until you pulled his hair again.

“You’re going … god. Fuck.”

You smiled, gasping as Bucky’s metal hand moved to cup your breast, cold fingers plucking your nipple until it hardened. He slid that hand down between the two of you, flicking your clit with those cold, metal fingers, and you dug your fingers into his back as you came without any warning. Bucky’s rhythm faltered as you tightened around him, and through the rush of blood in your ears, you heard the powerful roar he gave as he followed you over the edge.

You stared at the ceiling, heart still rabbiting against your ribs, Bucky’s arm thrown over your stomach. You were lying on your back on the couch, legs still tingling from your orgasm. Bucky was laying on his stomach beside you, really almost on top of you, metal arm under your head, face in your hair. You could feel his heart pounding just as quickly as yours.

Neither of you had said anything, and to be quite honest, you had no idea where to even begin. You licked dry lips as Bucky lifted his head, and you turned to meet his gaze, blue eyes staring into yours. He just looked at you for a moment, before a smile worked its way onto his lips.

“Hi there.”

You gave a soft laugh.

“Hi.” “You okay?”

You nodded, and he shifted just a bit, pulling you closer. You closed your eyes and moved your forehead to rest against his cheek, speaking softly.

“Buck, what does this mean?” “Why do you have to ask that question?”

You sighed, turning to stare at the ceiling some more.

“This is … a big deal, Bucky.” “So?” “‘So?’ All you have to say is ‘so?’” “If all I say is ‘so,’ then you have free rein to lose your mind and blow it all out of proportion, which I know you’re just dying to do.”

You blinked, turning your head to meet his eyes again. He shrugged his shoulders.

“You know it’s true.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You think you know me.” “I think I know more than you think I do.” “Oh, really?”

Bucky pushed himself up to where he could look down at you.

“You love to read. You want to say non-fiction, but you are a fiction junkie. The trashier the romance novel, the better.”

Your eyes widened, but he kept on.

“You cook like a goddamned wizard. You throw shit into a pot and it comes out tasting better than anything I’ve ever tasted. Steve used to sneak me bowls of whatever and put it aside for me when you refused to let me have any.” “I have never—“ “If you could have put up the ‘We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone’ sign you would have, in a heartbeat. And you would have marked out ‘anyone’ and wrote in ‘Bucky.’”

You swallowed, and he smiled.

“Can I continue?”

You nodded, and he went on.

“You like the medical tape that’s only an inch wide instead of the two inch. You think it’s wasteful, plus it gets in your way. You love lemon-scented cleaners, and the citrus or orange-scented ones give you a headache. You love chocolate—except for dark—“

You made a face and he chuckled as he went on.

“And I have been a complete ass to you for no apparent reason.”

You blinked as you met his eyes and he gave a sigh. He moved a hand and brushed some hair off your forehead, then smiled.  

“No, don’t interrupt me. Let me finish.”

You giggled, giving a sigh, lifting a hand to link your fingers with his. He went quiet, and you spoke softly.

“Why have you been such an ass to me?”

Bucky huffed out a breath, dancing his metal fingers over your knuckles. He lifted his head to look into your eyes.

“The truth?” “Please.”

He sighed, glancing at your entwined hands before looking back to your eyes.

“Because I’ve been wanting this to happen since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

Your eyes widened and he smiled as he ran his other hand over his eyes.

“Don’t look so shocked.” “Seriously?” “You don’t have to say anything. Steve’s already torn me a new one.” “Steve knows?”

Bucky dropped his hand, lifting an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course Steve knows.” “Steve knows everything about me.”

You pursed your lips, trying to hide your smile.

“Does he know you have that freckle right there by your—” “Don’t even.”

You laughed, hands moving to Bucky’s biceps—one smooth skin, one surprisingly smooth metal—as he moved over you, shifting where he could look down at you.

“Can we start over?”

You gave a quiet laugh.

“You think we can? I’ve been pretty awful to you, too.”

Bucky shrugged his powerful shoulders.

“I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”

You pursed your lips, but instead of giving the snarky comment you wanted to say, Bucky leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. You let your hands come up, fingers sliding into his silky smooth hair, tightening slightly when he deepened the kiss.

“Doc? Buck, are you here?”

Bucky pulled away from you, tilting his head.

“That wasn’t …”

You shook your head.

“You didn’t hear …”

Bucky met your eyes just as the door burst open.

“Oh my god!”

You covered your eyes with your hands and Bucky burst out laughing. Steve turned his back to you, hands on his hips as he hung his head. Tony cleared his throat and Bucky glanced over his shoulder.

“Can you give us a minute, guys?”

Tony slowly nodded, turning around and shaking his head.

“This is not what I meant this panic room for.” “Can you see if F.R.I.D.A.Y. can wipe this from my brain? I can’t unsee that, Tony.” “You and me both, Cap.”

Bucky crawled off of you, gently pulling your hands from your eyes. You met his eyes, seeing the smile on his face.

“Real funny, Barnes.” “I just can’t get over the fact that Stark and Steve come running in, catch us buck-ass naked, and your first thought is to cover YOUR EYES.”

You laughed at that, reaching a hand up. Bucky laced his fingers through yours and helped you sit up, and you pushed a hand through your hair. He gave you a smile and you tugged on his hand until he leaned forward.

“How much time do you think we have?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow a second before a smile broke over his face. He leaned in, both of you closing your eyes as his lips inches closer to yours.

“Don’t even think about it! We have to burn the damn panic room as it is! Get some clothes on and get the hell to your own rooms!”

You and Bucky laughed, and you closed the gap between you, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

Sure, as with most relationships, there were issues. He often hated the fact that you were gone, weeks at a time, traveling about with two men. It was hard, knowing that he had no idea what you really did for a job, unable to tell him for his own safety.

That’s why you couldn’t wait to be home. To be back with Levi, spending the evening in his arms, forgetting all about this horrible hunt you had just finished. Maybe even ordering take out before falling into bed with him, staring into those chocolate colored eyes of his, forgetting about all the horror you had witnessed.

“Ready to be back with what’s his name?” Dean asked you, the disgust for your boyfriend evident in his tone of voice. For some reason, ever since you had first started dating Levi, Dean had been standoffish, never calling him by name, never wanting to spend any time with him. It hurt, but you didn’t let it affect your relationship with either man.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see Levi again,” you answered, putting an emphasis on Levi’s name, even though you knew it would make no difference. “Thanks again for dropping me off.”

“No problem sweetie,” Dean answered as he pulled up in front of the house. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Dean, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, taking your bag from the backseat, stepping out of the car and making your way up the sidewalk. Levi’s car was already in the driveway, and you pushed the door open, tossing your keys onto the little stand by the door.

“Levi, I’m home!” You called out, shutting the door behind you, seeing Levi standing at the window, a frown on his face as he watched Dean pull away.

“I thought you would have been home a couple of days ago,” he muttered, turning to finally face you. His arms were crossed over his chest, his face molded into a sneer you had never seen from him before.

“I know honey, and I texted you that the job was running over. I got home as quickly as I could,” you tried to assure him as he took a step closer to you.

“Somehow I don’t believe that,” he spat. He was dressed for a day on the mountains, a heavy flannel shirt, faded jeans, and you could faintly see the bulge of a knife or gun on his side. “See you were dropped off by that sleazeball that you call your partner.”

“His name is Dean, and he’s not a sleazeball,” you argued, taking a step back when you noticed the way his hands were clenched. Sure, he had shown jealousy towards Dean on more than one occasion, but never to this extent. “We were just on a job, and it ran a little late. But you know that Dean’s my friend, nothing more. You’re the man I love. The man I come home to.”

“Is that true?” He asked, but you were afraid he had already made up his mind. “Because you seem a little too comfortable with him. You spend more time with him than you do me, and I’m just supposed to trust your word?”

“Isn’t that’s what happens in a relationship?” You asked him, as he continued to step closer to you. Never fearing him before, you couldn’t help how fast your heart was racing, the way your eyes closely watched his hands. “Don’t we trust each other because we love each other?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think love is blind, and stupid, and I’ve been both too long. Blind to the fact that my girlfriend is a slut for those stupid Winchesters, whatever job you really do with them? Is there even a job, or are you spending most of the time on your knees?”

Without thought, you reached up, slapping his cheek as hard as you could in disbelief. Wondering how he could say these things to you. A man you had thought you might marry someday, treating you horrible. “I really hope you don’t mean that.”

“I think I do. I think the reason you’re gone so long with those flannel wearing lumberjacks is because your their personal slut. And I’m tired of being a cuckold.”

“Fine, then I’ll leave,” you spat, turning to take your keys from the stand when you heard a growl behind you.

“Hell no!” He exclaimed, grabbing you by the shoulder, probably to turn you around, but the movement sent you flying into the table, your head connecting with the corner. Groaning, you held your head, blood slicking your fingers.

“What the hell Levi?” You muttered, your heart freezing when you saw the gun shaking in his hands. “Levi?”

“I can’t let you go back to them,” he mumbled. “I’ve loved you from the first moment you fell into my lap, and I’m tired of you always leaving me for them. So you can stay now, on your own, or because you can’t move. But you’re not leaving.”

“Levi, this is crazy!” You exclaimed, moving to stand up but the shaky gun in his hands made you freeze, your eyes wide with fright.

Your movement was enough to startle him, the gun going off in his hands. At first you thought he had missed, but pain blossomed in your leg. Staring down in surprise at the blood turning your jeans red, you stared up at him.

Dropping the gun, he came towards you, his hands outstretched, and it was then you could see the craziness in his eyes. The Levi you had loved was gone, in his place this jealous crazy man, and it terrified you. “Levi stop!” You exclaimed, the pain in your leg forgotten as you tried to crawl away.

“No, you’ll just leave me, and I can’t have that!” He argued, his hands reaching out, grabbing your calf, pulling you back towards him, your leg protesting the movement. Rolling you over, he reached up, his hands wrapping around your neck, squeezing tight enough that black dots began filling your vision.

Clawing at his arms, you stretched your arm out, trying to find something, anything that would save you from the crazed man above you. Reaching something cold and metalic, you picked it up, as he slammed your head into the floor. “If I can’t have you, no one will.” He kept saying, as your lungs screamed for a breath of air.

Wishing it didn’t have to come to this, you placed the gun against his chest, your finger pressing against the trigger. “Levi,” you stuttered, the words barely leaving your lips.

His eyes full of rage, he squeezed even harder, leaving you no choice. With tears in your eyes, your body going lax, you squeezed the trigger, flinching as the echoing sound of a gunshot reached your ears. His grasp loosened immediately, his body falling to yours, his face off to the side.

Your entire body aching, you struggled to push Levi’s body off to the side, watching as his lifeless body rolled off, his eyes glassy. His shirt was covered in red, the reminder of what you had just done. The thought that you had just killed your boyfriend had you rolling to your side, the bullet wound in your leg agony as you let the tears fall, feeling as if you couldn’t catch your breath.

Trying to calm yourself, you pulled your phone from your pocket, the screen quickly getting red from the blood covering your hands. With no one else to call, you quickly dialed a familiar number, hyperventilating as you waited for him to answer.

“Y/N, can’t go one day without talking to me,” Dean teased, the familiarity of his voice bringing a fresh new wave of tears.

“Dean,” you stuttered, your throat sore, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice changing, his hunter instincts picking up on the fact that something wasn’t right.

“I need you,” you croaked. “Please.”

“On my way,” he answered, no need for an explanation. Dean was always there for you when you needed him.

Hanging up, you laid your head on the floor, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the blank gaze in Levi’s. To see that the man you had loved had turned so cruel, giving you no choice but to pull the trigger.

Dean must have been in town still, arriving in less than five minutes. Breaking through the front door, he froze at the sight in front of him. And what a sight it must have been. Levi, blood circling around him, and you. Your leg still bleed sluggishly, bruises already forming on half of your body. Your head pounded, your throat ached.

“Y/N, what the hell happened?” He asked, quickly taking his flannel off and wrapping it around your leg, trying to stop the bleeding. “You know what, never mind. You can tell me later. Right now let’s get the hell out of here.”

Gently picking you up, he carried you out of the house, laying you gently in the passenger seat of the Impala. Tears slipped down your cheek as you watched your house slip away, along with the normal life you had always felt too good to be true. Now it would just become another memory, as hunting became the only life you would ever have. The thought of it hurt, knowing that you weren’t able to have normal things in your life. “Y/N, I don’t know what happened, but I’ll be by your side, no matter what. Don’t you worry,” Dean assured you as he headed towards the bunker, and the second half of your life. As you stared blankly out the window, thankful to have Dean by your side.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @colette2537 @crusadedean @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @librarygeekery @msimpala67 @lenaabs @love-charmer-sketch @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thesaneone @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

He let the engine run as he got out and carefully sneaked up to the living room window. John hadn’t moved an inch since he left him on the couch, the TV on full volume and the half empty bottle of scotch still in his hand. Dean clenched his jaw and fists as the 7th replay of the night’s events began playing in his head. “Omega? You’re an omega?”

The disbelief and disappointment on their father’s face was evident even though he tried to conceal it and keep his face neutral. “Dad.. it just happened- I’m still me”, Sam tried.

The smile John gave his youngest was the halfhearted hard-set kind you’d give someone who’d just handed you a big fat bill or told you you’d just been served. “You can’t hunt, Sam. You won’t be safe and..you’ll be a liability”

Sam’s face fell and that was the last straw for Dean who stepped up from the couch. “I can take care of Sammy, just as I always have. Won’t be a problem, sir”

Sam looked up at his older brother, a mixture of emotions ghosting over his face. Dean hated how his father treated Sammy at that moment but Dean was also a good soldier and he knew his place. John laughed bitterly and scratched his neck. “No.”

“No?!”

John threw his hands in the air, giving Dean a look like he’d just told him he was positive the earth was flat. “He. Is. An. OMEGA! You can’t keep him safe. Not while hunting. And I need you there with me.”

He gave Sam one last look before taking the bottle of scotch he’d bought on his way home and sunk down on the couch. He stared blankly at the TV. “This discussion is over. Tomorrow I’m taking Sam to Bobby’s”

The thought of just taking Sam and running away had entered his mind on more than one occasion. But he knew it was useless. An unmated omega without a legal guardian was fair game as far as the majority of the world’s alpha population was concerned and Dean couldn’t do that to Sam.

It gnawed at him. The knowledge that he could help and protect him- be everything Sam needed- if they just weren’t brothers.

Dean had presented as an Alpha about two years ago. He’d supposed it was late but he wasn’t bothered since he was sure he’d be a beta just like both his parents. When he popped his first knot saying he was confused would be putting it mildly. But it had in some way come as a blessing. He was sure Sam would be an alpha too as it was common for siblings to present as the same gender, and that meant they couldn’t possibly be together. And that was a good thing. That made it easier. He couldn’t remember when he started feeling differently about Sam, when his goofy dork of a brother sparked something other in him than brotherly love. He hadn’t exactly woken up one day and been hellbent on kissing his brother, it had just sneaked up on him over the years until he couldn’t deny it to himself anymore. He never acted on it. He kept it to himself and focused on keeping his scent under control.

Sam’s first heat had been mild and only lasted for three days, but it had still been hell on Dean. Absolute torrid hell. He knew Sam had probably been able to smell the arousal on him from a mile away and he was beyond thankful for Sam having the good sense not to mention it.

They had decided to not tell John over the phone, that maybe it would be easier if they delivered the news face to face with their father. And oh, how wrong they had been. John had just come home that same day, a notebook and pencil-set badly wrapped under his arm; it hadn’t taken long before he’d scented the air and the makeshift gift had came crashing down onto the floor. He’d been away on a hunt and just barely been able to make it to Sam’s birthday. Dean had a feeling they all wished he’d been held up.

-

Tap, tap, tap

“Psst.. hey- Sammy!”

The sizeable lump of blankets and pillows on the bed stirred a bit. “Come on, hurry up! It’s freezing!”

A bedhead like no other rose up and looked bleary-eyed at Dean. He rubbed his eyes and dragged his hand under his nose as he made his way towards the window. It took a few tries but he finally managed to work it open without making too much noise. Dean had to swallow down the growl that threatened to rip through his throat at the distinct smell of distressed sad omega that came wafting through the window. “D-dean? What’re you doing out here? Where’s dad? Is he dragging you out on a hunt again?”

Dean willed the last of his alpha instincts away and then chuckled. “Easy, or you gonna go hypersonic”

He swatted Sam’s hands away from the window sill and climbed in. “I don’t wanna wake up dad”, he shrugged as an explanation at Sam’s confused expression.

“Get dressed. Warm! And don’t ask any questions”

When he turned to Sam and realised there were still tears in his eyes he got closer and wiped them away gently. “Trust me, kid, this’ll be fun”

Sam dragged his hands under his nose again with a sniffle and nodded an ‘ok’ before he started rummaging through his duffel- they had as usual not cared to unpack.

When they both were dressed in warm sweaters, jackets, scarves and gloves (Sam had insisted that if he needed them, so did Dean) they made their way out the window as silently as they could. When Sam saw the Impala he looked at Dean “Dad sleeps with the keys to that car, how did yo-”

“He has his tricks. I have mine. Come on, Sammy”

They got in the car, both rubbing their hands together for warmth; it was unusually cold for May, even by northern standards. Dean experimentally gave some gas, seeing if the motor vehicle gods were still in his favour, before deeming it okay and backing out of the driveway. Sam curled up on the leather seat in an effort to keep himself warm as he looked out through the window. “Where’re we goin’, Dee?”, he asked without turning his head.

“I don’t know”

Sam turned his head to his older brother with a raised eyebrow. Dean gave him a crooked grin and a wink and started fiddling with something in his inside pocket. “I just wanted to give my little bro a nice end to his birthday”, he laughed and threw a small cassette in Sam’s lap. 

Dean glanced sideways while trying to watch the road at the same time, scanning Sam’s every expression to determine if the gift had been a bad idea after all. It was hard to figure out how Sam was feeling since his scent was more or less blocked by the excessive layers of clothing. “It’s just songs that makes me think of you, or us. Shuck it if you don’t want it”, he rushed out.

Sam looked closely at the cover with various songs and artists scribbled down in Dean’s rushed handwriting. He stroked the sides of it carefully and chewed on his bottom lip before taking the cassette out and popping it in the stereo.

Lonely is the night when you find yourself alone Your demons come to light and your mind is not your own Lonely is the night when there's no one left to call You feel the time is right, say the writing's on the wall

Dean shifted his gaze nervously back and forth between the road and Sam as they made their way through the outskirts of town. Sam just stared intently at the stereo, looking very focused. “Have the stereo offended you or something? What’s with the look?”

Sam didn’t look away from the stereo as he answered “‘m just trying to make out the words. It’s really good, Dean..”, he looked up at his brother “..it’s kinda how I feel right now”

And that, that kinda hurt; and Dean wasn’t having any of it. He leaned forward and teasingly pushed Sam back in his seat before pressing fast forward for a couple of seconds. He smiled proudly when the last few notes of the first song rang out. “Every time”, he smiled as Sam scoffed.

“Yeah, great talent there, Dee.”

“Shut up”, he huffed as the next song came on.

“Try an have some fun!” he pushed his elbow playfully at Sam and started singing loudly and off key while using the steering wheel as a drum set

“Guess who just got back today, them wild-eyed boys that had been away! Haven’t changed that much to say but man, I still think them cats are crazy!”, he chanced a look at Sam and felt a jolt of happiness in his gut when he saw the smile his brother fought to keep down. “Come on, Sammy! I know you know this one”, he grabbed Sam’s knee and shook it playfully before continuing his nails against chalkboard singing.

“They were asking if you were around, how you was, where you could be found- come on, Sam. I won’t stop until you join me- drivin all the old men crazy. The boys are back in town the boys are back in town, th-”

“THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOO-OOWN!”

The grin on Dean’s lips was wide enough to break his face as his little brother continued to belt out the chorus. They kept on like that, driving fast through the night towards the tunnels that were the wall between the rundown suburbs and the city, and singing so loudly they were practically screaming, with big dopey smiles on their faces.

A couple of songs later the tunnel lights became visible ahead and Dean began to roll down the windows on his side of the car. Sam eyed him down with a quizzical expression. “Roll yours down too, Sammy. Wanna show you something”

Sam looked a bit unsure and his scent that had started to seep through his jacket changed slightly bringing in a hint of nervousness, but he did as his brother said, reaching back to first get the backseat window down before he made quick work of the front one.

Pearl jam’s Just breathe started playing softly as they entered the warmly lit tunnel and Dean turned the volume up as far as it’d go.

Yes I understand That every life must end As we sit alone I know someday we must go Yeah I'm a lucky man To count on both hands The ones I love Some folks just have one Yeah others they got none

Sam’s eyes were big as saucers as the music flowed out their windows and bounced against the rounded walls creating what could only be described as an acoustic marvel. The song seemed to amplify itself in waves until it felt like it was going around them, constantly growing in volume. Sam couldn’t help but smile wide and happy at his older brother who smiled right back before tousling his hair and speaking a soft “Happy birthday, Sammy”

Sam didn’t even mind his hair getting messed up. He just grinned as his eyes lit up as they always did when he had an idea. He grinned mischievously at Dean before he removed his gloves and got up on all fours on the car seat and slowly started getting up and out the window. “Sammy, wha-”

“Dean, shut up for a second. I want to try this”

“Fine, just hold on” Dean watched worriedly as Sam snaked around and planted his butt on the car door, holding on tightly to the handle on the car ceiling.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt There's so much in this world To make me bleed Stay with me You're all I see Did I say that I need you? Did I say that I want you? Oh if I didn't, I'm a fool you see No one knows this more than me As I come clean I wonder everyday As I look upon your face, uh huh Everything you gave And nothing you would take, uh huh Nothing you would take Everything you gave

Dean quietly sang with the words as he looked at his brother in the periferi. He could just about make out the lower part of Sam’s face, and the blissful smile that looked like it’d almost split his face in two made his heart beat impossibly hard in his chest. 

He was very well aware of the fact that he was probably giving off some serious Happy Alpha in love scent right then and there but he didn’t care. All the windows were open and Sam and his nose were outside the car so he figured he could allow himself this just this once. Just reveling in the happiness of seeing Sam smiling for the first time in a long while without pushing down and restraining every thought and feeling that arose. “This is incredible, Dee”, Sam hollered from outside the car. 

He had let go of the handle with his right hand in favour of leaning out more. Thankfully it was the middle of the night and there was zero to no traffic- especially out there. The song kept growing around them, gaining momentum in the cylinder formed space, the flickering orange lights ghosting warm shadows over their faces.

Sam held his arm straight out and leaned his head back, letting the cool air whip and dance over his skin and hair. He laughed gleefully as the last notes of the song bounced of the concrete walls. The tunnel came to an end and they re-entered the darkness and star spangled sky. Sam got back into the car and flopped down in his seat with a new dopey grin plastered on his face. “Thank you, Dean. This was amazing”

Dean just smiled back and petted Sam affectionately over the neck like he used to do when they were younger.

He was driving them towards a lookout point near the tunnels where kids had probably gone to make out once upon a time before parents had stopped caring. Springsteen’s Born to run came and went before the cold started to seep in under their clothes; they quickly rolled all the windows up again as a song Sam didn’t recognise came on.

Looking for a way Maybe now, maybe in a day Cause nothing gonna change If we stay around here We gotta do what it takes Cause it's all in our hands We all make mistakes But it's never too late to start again

“Dean..?”

Dean didn’t answer or even acknowledge that he’d heard him. He just started to quietly sing along, acting as if he was unaware that Sam was with him in the car.

“If this life, gets any harder now don't ever mind, you got me by your side and any time you want we can catch a train and find a better place cause we won't let nothing or no one keep getting us down. Maybe you and I should pack our bags and say goodbye and fly away from here. Anywhere, I don't care. We'll just fly away from here, our hopes and dreams are out there somewhere. We won't let times pass us by, we'll just fly”

Sam shifted a bit in his seat and that seemed to be the moment he chose to scent the air. Dean peered over at Sam just in time to see his nostrils flare, his nose stuck up high in the air. Sam opened his eyes and returned his head to its normal position slowly. He had a faint look of disbelief adorning his features. Dean’s cheeks heated before he could do damn much about it.

“Dean? Wha- I.. wait, hang on. You said those songs were about us?”

“Don’t take everything so literal, Sam!”, Dean snapped. He felt terrified though he tried to not let it show. He clearly hadn’t thought things through when he made the mixtape- he just knew all these songs that started playing in his head whenever he looked at Sam and the natural reaction to that was wanting to let Sam know about it to make him happy- it hit him then like a ton of bricks; to make his omega happy. He was a stupid, stupid man.

Sam’s scent suddenly grew stronger and Dean tried to focus on breathing through his mouth, too scared to read the rejection and confusion that undoubtedly was there. “Just the feeling, the sense of the songs made me think of us. Not- I mean.. How easy is it to find songs with the exact right words? It came out weird and let’s just forget it. We’ll shuck the tape when we get back and I can make you a new one with some Bowie or something instead.”, he muttered, eyes fixed on the road as he parked the car next to a tree. 

They had a view of the whole town up there. There was silence for only a few seconds before Sam cautiously spoke up “Dee.. you smell like..-”

Dean crumpled, closing his eyes and leaning forward with his head and arms against the steering wheel. “Just let it go, Sammy. Please”

Sam reached out a tentative hand and looked like he was just about to say something as his head snapped up towards the stereo. David Bowie’s Heroes flowed out through the speakers softly and Sam let out a faint rush of air. “That’s my favourite song”

Dean sighed. “I know”

The first touch underneath his upper arm came as a shock and made him jerk at first. He was then unceremoniously but gently pushed back against the backrest as Sam cuddled up against his chest and wrapped Dean’s arm around his smaller frame. Dean held his breath.

“Calm down”, Sam grumbled as he began nuzzling Dean’s clavicle and neck; and Dean just sunk into it, letting out all the air he’d been holding in one big exhale.

You stand in your bedroom and play with the hem of your flowing summer dress. A lot of things have changed in the past year since joining the Styne family, your wardrobe being one of them. Gone are the days of oversized flannels and torn jeans. Biker boots and faux leather jackets are a thing of the past. You don’t even think you own a pair of pants anymore. You have no use for hunter amour anymore. Eldon likes you in dresses. So, you wear dresses. Plain and simple.

Eldon always lays out the dress he wants you to wear on any given day. That way, you never have to guess what you think he’d want to see you in. The only issue is, the dress he laid out for you this morning, is too small. All of your dresses are beginning to get too small. You love that your belly is finally swelling and you are finally showing. You can’t wait to be round with the latest Styne heir. You just wish you could still fit into your wifely uniform.

“Hey,” Eldon says in a sleepy haze as he shuffles up behind you. He leans over your shoulder and nudges your cheek with his nose. He wraps his arms around you and breathes in the scent of your hair. “Where’d you go, baby girl?”

His southern drawl is always thickest in the mornings. You can’t help but smile when you hear it. His voice gets under your skin and tickles you from the inside out. You turn in his hold so you can face him. You don’t say anything, you merely play with the misplaced ends of his mussed-up bedhead.

“What were you thinking about?” Eldon pushes you. He always insists on knowing your inner most thoughts. However, he always seems to already know what you’re thinking. He just asks for your confirmation. He likes to hear you say it.

“You.” You answer as you always do. You tell him the truth. “Us… the peanut.” You rub your bare belly and marvel at the idea of what is growing inside of you.

“I wish you wouldn’t call him that.” Eldon rolls his eyes at you. “That’s not a very tough nickname for my little boy. Peanut,” he scoffs with a mocking tone.

“It could be a girl,” you remind him. You know he wants a son. And, you want to give him one. However, a part of you can’t help but think that the Styne family tree already has enough testosterone. You think a girl would do the family some good. Besides, you could use the backup. As the only girl in the house, you feel outnumbered. You could use someone else in your corner as you sit amongst the all the Styne men.

Eldon’s face hardens but you don’t realize because you have your face buried into his chest. He strokes your hair and secures his other hand around your waist in a protective hold. He knows he has to tell you the truth. He should tell you. He needs to tell you. But, he can’t. He doesn’t know how destroy your hopes without scaring you.  

The truth is, there is a reason why there are only Styne men by blood, and no women. Any women in this family are added by marriage, none are born into the family. It has been that way for generations. 

Eldon’s family has a dark tradition of sacrifice. Anytime a Styne child is born female, she is sacrificed for the greater good of the family. Shortly after birth, she is ripped from her mother’s arms and her livelihood is drained. The newborn’s blood is infused with ancient magic and transferred to the elder members of the family. The ageless blood gives them new life and rejuvenates the older branches of the family tree.

If that wasn’t enough, the little girl’s heart is fed to the mother as a way of returning the child to the body in which she was created. Eldon was taught to believe that this process gives the mother closure on the deprived bond she would have had with her daughter. But, right now, he doesn't know if he believes it would be that easy. Looking at the joy in your eyes, the ritual seems nothing but barbaric.   

Eldon knows he should warn you of what will happen if your child is born female. But, he doesn’t know how to explain that part of his family history. It isn’t exactly something he can bring up while you lie in bed discussing baby names.

Eldon has seen how attached you have already gotten to this pregnancy and this baby. He can’t bear the idea of telling you that your baby may be taken away and killed before you even have a chance to hold her. So, that is why Eldon insists on staying focused on the idea of having a boy. He can’t let himself think about the alternative.

It is bad enough that Eldon himself stays awake most nights worrying about the possible sex of his baby. He doesn’t want you to know the same dread and fear that he does. It still astounds Eldon that he cares at all what you feel. But, especially since getting you pregnant, that gnawing sense of empathy he feels for you refuses to relent. His hearts break at the thought of seeing you in pain.

He knows he shouldn’t care about you or your heart, but he does. You have wormed your way inside of him. He cares about you in a way he has never cared for any other bitch he has tried, and failed, to train in the past. He doesn’t know how you’ve done it, but you have sunken your hooks deep within him.

When his father gave him the option to breed you outright or take you on as his wife, there was something drawing him toward the latter. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew you would be his wholly and completely. You would be the first girl to survive his training and thrive because of it. He would have saved himself a lot of headache if he had just bred you and then gotten rid of you once the spawn popped out. But some muffled part of Eldon knew that was never an option. You were always meant to be his.

You pull your head up from Eldon’s chest when his silence has droned on for a long while. You look up at him and see that he is now lost in his own thoughts. Ever since he got you pregnant, you have been trying to get him to be excited about the new addition. You want him to see your baby as an extension of your family, not an expansion of the Styne army.

Little do you know, Eldon’s reservations are founded in self-preservation. He can’t let himself get attached to a baby he may lose upon birth. He wishes he could protect you as well, but there is not point. It’s too late. You are already attached. Either way, this is going to hurt you.

Eldon pulls out an old maternity dress from the attic. He promises to buy you more appropriate clothing for every step of your pregnancy. No more tight summer dresses.

Eldon left for work shortly after getting you ready. He says he may be gone for a couple days. What he didn’t tell you was where he is going. He knew his mission would stir up confusing feelings for you. So, he kept his mouth shut. He’s off to pay your brothers a visit at their bunker. It’s been over a year and there is still no sign of the Book of the Damned. Monroe has been getting impatient. So, Eldon has been tasked to fulfil his overdue promise to get the book by any means necessary. He just hopes you don’t find out what he is up to.

Since Eldon left, you have spent your morning hunched over the toilet. Your morning sickness continues well into the late afternoon. But, you power through it. You have your own job to do.

You learned quickly that the Stynes had an old-fashioned notion of gendered responsibilities. Despite the attendants on the grounds, they expect you to manage most of the domestic duties. Since you are pregnant and need your rest, you rarely do any labour yourself. But, you are in charge of making sure the servants do their jobs correctly. It feels weird telling people what to do. You have never been the type to have servants, let alone boss them around. You have never been able to get used to it. 

You try to help and contribute wherever you can. But, this is a big house for you to take care of on your own. So, you need their help. However, if the attendants slack off, it will reflect badly on you. If you are to be the wife of the Styne heir, you need to be able to wield control. So, you know this is a test you cannot fail.

You never thought you would enjoy being bound to household duties. You always used to hate the idea of being domesticated. You always wanted to be out in the world, getting your hands dirty. But, that is not an option anymore. So, you have grown to accept your new responsibilities.

You taught yourself how to cook. You used to watch Dean work in the bunker’s kitchen before everything fell apart. He’d never let you help, but you watched him enough to know the basics. If Dean taught you anything, it is to not be afraid to experiment with odd flavours, and never skimp on the bacon. The Stynes are usually a lot more short-tempered on empty stomachs. So, you keep a wide variety of meals and baked goods readily available, for everyone’s sake.

The Stynes are a complicated family. But, they are your family. They accepted you more willingly than your own brothers ever did.

They weren’t all so accepting from the beginning. You were a Winchester, an enemy. It took most of them a while to believe your loyalties have shifted. When you first arrived, no one paid you much mind. They listened to you scream every night for mercy. And, they did nothing. They thought you were going to be a mere toy Eldon would impregnate and dispose of. So, they had no reason to care about an incubator. Eli even asked Eldon to muzzle his bitch in the meantime. However, once Eldon declared he intended to keep you as his wife, the rest of the family’s views started to change.

Overnight, you went from whore to princess. It was jarring at first. You didn’t trust the sudden transformation. It is hard for you to get how one day you could be spat on for talking out of turn. Then, the next day, you are being fitting into a wedding dress that has been passed down the line for generations. You didn’t trust them at first, just as they didn’t trust you. But sooner or later, you all realized you didn’t have much of a choice. You had to get along. You weren’t going anywhere.

Once you accepted your role as Eldon’s chosen mate, Monroe took you in as his daughter. He showered you with gifts and praise. He made sure you wanted for nothing. He spoiled you like the daughter he never had. He has been more concerned for you in this past few months than John had been in your entire life. It was a scary day when you realized that Monroe would make a better grandfather than John ever would.

Eldon’s cousins and brothers adopted you into the fold as well. You earned their favour by respecting their status. You stayed out of their way and spoke only when spoken to. But, it was with the youngest, Cyrus, whom you bonded with the most. Not only is he the most similar in age to you, but also, he reminds you of yourself. He is an outcast amongst his family. They don’t understand him. They don’t appreciate the different perspective he brings to the family. But, you do.

Cyrus is the one you spend most of your time with, aside from Eldon. You two talk while the other Stynes are off doing whatever it is they do. Cyrus tells you of the bullies he encounters at school. He tells you how he plans on moving to Los Angeles instead of following the path set out for him by his father. You tell him about the fears you have of becoming a mother since you had no mother to show you what to do or what not to do. You tell each other things that you would not tell the others. Insecurity and deviation does not fit the Styne image. So, you keep it between yourselves.

You hardly ever step out of line anymore. Although, old habits die hard at times. Sometimes you accidently let slip a bit of backtalk. But, no one has physically corrected your behaviour since you got pregnant. As you practice your role of a dutiful wife, it is getting easier to hold your tongue. You have been biting back your insolence for so long that it is becoming second nature.

Sometimes you look back at the girl you were a little over a year ago and wonder where that rebellion went. You wonder where that fight had gone and just how deep you have buried it. But, you know you are better off without it. Perhaps if you had learned such compliance as a kid, your brothers would have looked for you after you disappeared.

But, you try not to think about what could have been. You also avoid thinking about your first few months here. You stay focused on the good. You stay focused on your happy, and growing, family.

You lay out an early dinner for Cyrus since you know he prefers to not eat with the rest of his family. You sit with him and eat a little yourself. As you grow, the idea of eating dinner twice is not as unappealing as it used to be.

“He’ll be back. He always comes back,” Cyrus assures you when he sees you picking at your food. Eldon had left for what he said was a cut and dry run. But, that was four days ago. He should have been back by now. Monroe has assured you that everything is fine. But there is gnawing twist in your stomach that tells you these men are lying to you. Eldon wouldn’t be away this long, without at least calling, if something wasn’t wrong.

You smile at Cyrus. You appreciate his attempt to assuage your fears but it doesn’t do much. You won’t be able to find any peace until Eldon comes home to you.

“Did your father tell you where Eldon was going?” You whisper. You know you’re not supposed to ask about business. It is not your place. But, you need to know.

Cyrus darts his eyes away from you. You take that as a yes.

“Tell me,” you beg of him.

“I can’t… they’ll kill me. Literally. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” Cyrus knows Eldon went to go bully your brothers into handing over the Book of the Damned. For once, he agrees with Eldon’s decision to keep you in the dark about it. 

“Now you are scaring me. You have to tell me where he is so I can-”

“So, you can what?” Cyrus snaps in a shouted whisper. “What are you going to do about it? You can’t leave. You can’t save him. There is no saving this family. You’re a prisoner here, we both are, whether we want to admit it or not.” There is a sadness in Cyrus’ voice that hurts you. Your maternal instincts must be kicking in earlier than you thought. 

“I am not a prisoner,” you insist. “I haven’t been a prisoner here for a long time.” You say what you believe to be the truth.

“Really?” Cyrus scoff at you. “If that’s true… then go. Walk out that door right there. See what happens.” Cyrus gesture toward the door that leads out into the streets, streets you haven’t walked in over a year.

“I…I don’t think…” you hesitate.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Cyrus gives you a sad look. “I’m sorry.”

You push down whatever sense of doubt Cyrus is trying to brew within you. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I have everything I want. I have a family.” You rub your belly to assure yourself of that fact.

“You have everything he made you want.” Cyrus informs you of the truth you have been avoiding since your training was completed.

“Don’t…” you plead in a surprisingly sober and lucid tone. “I can’t think about that. I can’t…” you trail off as you fight down the girl you buried long ago. “I just can’t.”

You push yourself away from the table and start to clean up the kitchen, as expected.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to… it’s just… I like you. You’ve been a good friend to me. You listen. I don’t get that from anyone else around here. So, I’m sorry you were forced into this family. I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone.”

“I love your brother,” you try to convince Cyrus, and yourself. “Now, we should stop. If your father hears you talking like this…”

“Talking like how?” Monroe’s voice booms from the doorway of the kitchen and startles you both.

“It’s nothing,” you lie for your brother-in-law. “Cy was just worried about a paper he has to write for school. I was just telling him that you wouldn’t be happy to hear him second-guess his own intelligence. Stynes should never second-guess themselves.” You add that last bit as icing on the cake. Adding family pride always helps seal the deal of a lie.

Monroe stays silent for a moment, gauging whether he accepts your excuse. You let out a breath of relief by what he says next. “That is true, darlin’. Modesty has never been a hereditary. I don’t know where our little Cy gets it from.” Monroe ruffles Cyrus’ hair as if he is still a child. “Now, come along son. Eldon’s back. There are somethings we need to discuss.”

Your ears perk up at the knowledge that your husband has returned home safely. You want to see him, but you know better than to ask.

“You too, Y/N. Eldon was askin’ for you,” Monroe relents.

You follow hot on the patriarch’s heels. Cyrus gives your shoulder an appreciative squeeze for covering for him. You hold his hand as you both follow Monroe into the hall.

When you finally see Eldon again, he is covered in blood. You shriek with horror when you see he is missing his left arm. You let go of Cyrus and rush to your husband’s side. Eldon is standing perfectly straight and steady. He looks completely unaffected by the fact he is missing an arm.

“Quit your worrying, girlie.” Eldon soothes you by running his fingers along your jaw and forcing you to take your eyes off his bloody stump. “All is well.” You look into his eyes and see no pain behind them. “You always seem to forget that I am not entirely human. This ain’t nothing but a scratch.”

“But… you…” you still have a hard time wrapping your mind around the fact he is alright.  

“I’m fine,” Eldon dismisses your worry. “How have you been? And the peanut?” Eldon whispers the nickname he claims to abhor.

“We’re fine but you are still…” you try to turn the conversation back toward Eldon. But, he cuts you off.

“Has he been letting you keep your meals down? I know you were having trouble with that before I left.” Eldon wants to know his family is keeping healthy. Unlike him, you are not indestructible.

“She,” you correct him with a wide smile. “I had an ultrasound while you gone. I wanted to surprise you for when you got back.” You beam at him because you expect him to feel the same joy you do. “We’re having a girl. I hate to say I told you so… but I told you so!” You all but skip in place with excitement.

Eldon’s face pales at the news. He was hoping to not find out about the sex of his baby until you gave birth. He wanted to hold out hope for as long as possible. But, you have jumped the gun. Your baby’s death warrant has been served. And, you are still none the wiser.

Eldon looks at the joy in your eyes and hates knowing one day it will disappear forever. Now, he must count down the days until that joy is replaced with an incurable anguish. He must wait to watch that light get snuffed out by the darkness of death.

“Well, well… a girl.” Monroe coos from the other side of the room as he eavesdrops on your conversation. “Congratulations, son.” Eldon’s father gives him a wicked smile. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a baby girl born. Supply is running low. Your timing could not be better.”

You look between the men with confusion. Why would he refer to your baby as a supply? It seems odd. Normally, you would brush it off. But, as Eldon wraps his one protective arm around you and pulls you behind him, you start to feel unsettled.

You look over at Cyrus who has tears brewing in his eyes. But, they do not look like tears of joy at your news. He looks so hurt. You cannot imagine why.

“There will be time to celebrate later. We have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. But first, how about we fix up that arm of yours.” Monroe gestures for Eldon to let you go and follow him into the basement. “Come along, Cyrus. It’s time you learn how we handle situations such as these.”

Eldon squeezes you one last time before following his father’s orders. He guides Cyrus down into the basement and gives you one last sorrowful look. You want to follow him so he can explain why everyone is acting so weird. The sex of your baby should be good news. However, Monroe puts his arm out to stop you.

“You know the rules, Y/N. You are not to go into the basement unless given explicit permission. And, do you have such at the moment?”

You take a step away from the stairs and lower your head like a scolded child. “No, sir.”

“That’s right. Look, darlin’. There is nothing down there you want to see. All you need to know is that the next time you see your husband he will be right as rain.” Monroe smiles as if his armless son is just a regular Tuesday for him. “Why don’t you run along and make him some supper. I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”

“Yes, sir.” You start to walk toward the kitchen but turn back. “Thank you for fixing him,” you add. You must never forget your manners when speaking to the head of the family.

Monroe gives you a polite nod before nudging you off.

Eldon comes back upstairs an hour or so later. He now has two arms back. He walks into the kitchen, flexing his hand to test the range of motion.

“What the hell?” You look at his new arm and a spark of anger flares within you. “Where did you get that thing? You promised you would stop harvesting people.” You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the father of your unborn child. Your long-buried hunter is not pleased with him. 

“Not now,” Eldon dismisses you with a wave of his new hand. Over the past hour, he has been put in a sour mood. The whole time Monroe was teaching Cyrus how to harvest, he was also teasing Eldon about how his newborn will be used for spare parts. Monroe has been in the game a long time. He has sacrificed many daughters for the greater good. But, this is Eldon’s first. Monroe has forgotten how to feel loss. Meanwhile, Eldon is just beginning to remember.

“No!” You snap. This is the first spark of defiance that you have felt in a long time. It surprises both you and Eldon. “You promised,” you remind him again. You all but stomp your foot on the ground like a stubborn child.

The shock in Eldon’s eyes is quickly replaced by seething anger. Deep down, Eldon knows that he is not really angry at you. He is angry at fate, his family traditions, but mostly himself. He is the reason you will lose your child. He is the reason your entire world be ripped away from you. But, Eldon needs to lay his angry at someone’s feet. He cannot take it out on anyone else. He cannot confront his father nor lash out at the family. There is only you.  

Eldon storms up to you so you are chest to chest. He grips your upper arm with his new hand.

“Don’t touch me with that thing!” You bite out at him. You try to squirm out of his foreign hold. But, as always, he is too strong.

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! When did you gain the fantasy that you have any choice? When did you let yourself believe you have any say in what I do? Perhaps it is my fault. I have let you grow too comfortable here. You have forgotten you place.”

“No, I haven’t.” You feel a long-forgotten fire kindling inside of you. It makes you braver than you have felt, in what feels like, a lifetime.  “How could I forget? I am reminded every damn day that my place will always be beneath you. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try. I am always beneath you.” Tears well in your eyes as you say the truth that has been dancing in the back of your mind for a long time.

“And?” Eldon scoffs at you. “You are acting like that is new information, girlie. Or… have you forgotten how it is we met?”

“Don’t,” you warn him with pleading eyes. You hate thinking about your first few months here, let alone talking about it. “We aren’t those people anymore. We haven’t been that way in a long time and you know it.” You whisper so anyone passing by the kitchen won’t hear you. Eldon like to maintain the façade of his superiority around his family. But, when you are alone, he lets his guard down and you can see the truth. You can see the man he wants to be.

“You have always known who I am. You have always known what it is this family does to survive. Don’t get pissed at me now because you have been in denial about it.” Eldon squeezes your arm a little harder. His day just gets progressively worse by the minute. He thought he could at least come home to your welcoming embrace after spending the past few days imprisoned by a familiar enemy. But now, even you are giving him grief.

The grip on your arm hurts, but you bear it without flinching. You need him to hear you. “I don’t believe that. You can lie to your father and to your cousins all you want, Eldon. You can’t lie to me. I know you are more than the cold blooded soldier I met last year. You are better than that. You have to be. You are going to be a father.”

Eldon’s face drains of all emotion. For the first time in a long time, you are scared of the man looking back at you. “No. I won’t be,” Eldon responds. This is the first time he is admitting out loud the sordid fate of his daughter. 

“W-What do you mean?” You stutter in hesitation.

Eldon looks at you and watches the surety in your eyes wane. “I am not the man you think I am.” There is a hollow sense of regret in Eldon voice that hurts you more than scares you at this point. 

“You can be,” you whisper as Eldon’s grip over your arm loosens. “I know you can be.”

“How?” Eldon is genuinely curious how you have such confidence in him. He has never thought of himself as a good man. That has never been how he has defined himself. That’s not how he was raised. It was never a job requirement, it was a hindrance. Conscience. Love. Regret. Want. Dependency. These are all things, Eldon was raised to reject. They go against the Styne family code. They go against who he has always seen himself as. But, with you, these qualities don’t seem so bad. They are comforting even.

“We can go.” This is the first time you have thought of escaping in a long time. But now, the difference is you want to escape with Eldon, instead of from him. “We can go make a life for ourselves somewhere else. You freed me from my family. I can do the same for you. We don’t need anyone else. We can be free.”

Eldon laughs at the idea. But when you do not waver, he stops and gives it some thought. “We can’t. They will find us. They will kill us. They’ll kill our baby.” Eldon puts his hand on your bump and feels movement beneath his touch. This is the first time he has felt his little girl move. In this moment, the baby is less of an idea and more of a solid inevitability. He realizes that if you two stay, she is already dead.

“You said that I have forgotten who you are. But, you are also forgetting who I once was. I was a hunter. I was a Winchester. I can protect myself. And, I will protect our baby. No one can touch us. There is a reason why your father wanted to mix our bloodlines. Together, we are unstoppable.”

“You make it sound so simple.” For once, you are the strong and sure hand guiding him. He should hate it. He worked very hard to train this confidence out of you. But, he figures some things are non-erasable. It is oddly comforting to hear you talk like this.

“It’s not going to be easy,” you admit. “But… when has anything we’ve ever done been easy?” You shrug as you ready yourself the challenge. 

“Alright,” Eldon agrees. The choice seems so obvious now. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

“Why not tonight?” you ask a little disappointed.

“There is something I have to take care of first. There is something I need to do. Get yourself ready to go. Pack only the things you can’t live without. I’ll be back tomorrow night. Dad is making me take Cyrus on a run. I’m thinking that if we find what we’re looking for, it’ll appease the old man long enough for us to get away. Or… at least distract him until we are too far gone to find.”

“Cyrus is going with you?” You look at him with confusion. Cyrus would never willingly go on a family field trip.

“Trust me, he wasn’t my first choice of companion.” Eldon shakes his head. His youngest brother is not cut out for this type of work and he knows it. But, his father refuses to accept that fact. 

“We should take him with us when we go,” you blurt out. You know Cyrus has every intention of leaving the nest soon anyways. You can’t leave him behind. His family will swallow him whole. After your escape, they will beef up security and it’ll be impossible for him to get out on his own.

“Why?” Eldon looks confused. He doesn’t know of Cyrus’ plans to leave.

“Trust me, he needs to get out too.”

“Fine, whatever. The kid can come. We’re going to need a travelling nanny for the peanut anyways.” Eldon smiles as he thinks of the life you two could start together. “Now, I need you to stay in our room for the entire time I am gone. Don’t talk to anyone. They have ways of sniffing out lies. I’ll tell them you’re having a rough time with your morning sickness and need your rest. They will leave you alone. Please, just be safe.”

“I will, if you will.” You negotiate his own safety.

Eldon cups your check and rests his forehead against yours. “I promise.” He breathes you in and gives you a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Glass Houses

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“Ross’ daughter, Steve! How could you—“ “You can’t help who you fall in love with, Tony.”

Everyone glanced at Wanda, her cheeks flushing as she looked down at her hands. Tony sighed, shaking his head, running a hand down his face. Vision glanced towards the door as Sam reached over, giving Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. Steve closed his eyes, and Natasha picked up a clicker, transforming the wall behind Wanda to a screen that everyone turned to face. Steve sucked in a breath when a face appeared on the screen.

“Y/N Ross. Last known whereabouts were the small shop she owns.”

Natasha clicked to the next image, of the destroyed storefront. Vision stood up, and Natasha continued speaking.

“The store is completely destroyed. How it’s still standing is honestly a mystery to me, because it—“ “Has anyone spoken with Banner?”

They all looked to Tony. Natasha cleared her throat.

“Last sighting was Africa.” “Last sighting? What do you mean ‘last sighting?’ We agreed to have eyes on him at all times.” “We have a visitor.”

Everyone looked to Vision. A knock sounded at the door, and Natasha clicked to hide the images on the screen, blending it back into the wall as the door opened. A woman stood there, worry evident in her blue eyes and the way she was biting her plump bottom lip. She lifted a hand to brush at her dark hair and Steve stood up, brows furrowing. The woman let out a breath when she saw him, stepping over to him and taking his hands.

“Captain, I’m Betty Ross, Y/N’s sister.”

Glances were exchanged throughout the room, and Betty shook her head.

“Something's happened. I—I met her for lunch today, but I—I can’t get in touch with her now. I went to the store and it …”

She shook her head, tears filling her icy blue eyes.

“Excuse me. Betty?”

She looked to Natasha, who stood to her feet.

“Why did you come to us?”

Betty swallowed.

“Because you—you’re the Avengers.” “Why else?”

She glanced around, meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Because the damage to her store was …”

She shook her head, one tear slipping down her cheek.

“I know he’d never hurt me, but…” “Who?”

Betty swallowed again, looking down when Steve squeezed her hands. She closed her eyes, speaking softly.

“I spoke to him when I was in Paris recently. He was in Morocco. He couldn’t … I don’t think he could …”

Tony closed his eyes, rubbing a hand over his mouth. The phone in the middle of the table began to ring and Rhodey stepped into the room.

“General—“

He glanced around, noting the people in the room. He cleared his throat, nodding to Tony.

“The Secretary is on line two. It’s urgent.”

Tony blew out a breath, pressing a button on the phone.

“Mr. Secretary.” “Stark. We have a situation.” “That’s an understatement.”

Tony coughed to cover Rhodey’s mutter.

“What, uh … what kind of situation, sir?” “Emil Blonsky has escaped from prison.” “Oh god.”

Steve ushered a suddenly pale Betty to a chair before her knees gave out. She covered her mouth with a hand, shaking her head. Tony blinked before he went back to the phone.

“Who?” “Emil Blonsky. He’s an old colleague of mine that …”

Tony sat in a chair, dragging a hand over his face.

“Can you do me a favor, Mr. Secretary? Quit burying the lead. Who’s Blonsky? What has he done? Why are you telling us about him?” “Do you remember what occurred in New York in 2008?”

Tony shrugged his shoulders as he shook his head.

“Not ringing a bell.” “Specifically, Harlem?”

Tony slowly closed his eyes. Steve looked around the room, watching as recognition lit Natasha’s face. Steve shook his head, looking down as Betty took hold of his hand again and gave it a tug. Steve knelt down and Betty murmured to him as Tony spoke again.

“Quick question: how the hell did he escape?” “We believe he had help.” “Gamma radiation-esque help?”

Natasha avoided Tony’s glance her way, but they both turned to the phone when the Secretary’s voice came through the line.

“No, former Special Forces-esque help.”

Steve lifted his head as Tony covered his face with his hands and groaned. He laid his hands on the table.

“Ross, you do a fucking excellent job of screwing the pooch. We’ll take it from here, thank you.” “Now listen here, Stark—“

Tony hung up the phone, rubbing a hand over his eyes as Rhodey crossed his arms over his chest.

“You know he’s probably on his way here now, right?”

Tony shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair, propping his feet on the table. Natasha rolled her eyes as Tony leaned his head back and closed his eyes and Sam cleared his throat as he leaned forward, tapping on the table.

“Someone want to fill me in on this Blonsky character?”

Natasha nodded to Sam before she clicked the screen back into view. She tapped on a keyboard and a video appeared on the screen. No one said anything while the video played, but when Natasha stopped it, Tony sighed.

“This was before all my …”

He tapped the reactor in his chest and Natasha nodded.

“Steve was still asleep. I was with S.H.I.E.L.D.” “I was in Afghanistan.” “I was being tortured.”

Everyone went quiet at Sam and Wanda’s statements. Betty cleared her throat, standing to her feet.

“I was there.”

She walked to the screen, gently laying her fingertips against it.

“Blonsky forced Bruce into fighting him. He went after me, and Bruce saved me.”

She shook her head.

“But Y/N was at college. She never interacted with Blonsky. They never even met. She’s barely met Bruce.”

Natasha glanced away as Betty continued.

“The damage to her store…”

Natasha clicked the image on the screen and Betty sucked in a breath. Betty nodded, shaky finger pointing at the photo.

“It was so reminiscent of Bru—the Hulk. But it would make sense that it was Blonsky.”

Sam shook his head, standing up.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not getting this.”

Tony sighed.

“What happened to Banner to turn him into the Hulk was an accident. Blonsky had it done to himself on purpose.”

Sam slowly nodded as Betty reached for the screen, then lowered her hand.

“We called him the Abomination. Bruce had to become the Hulk to fight him, and they … they almost destroyed Harlem. It was almost as bad as the Battle of New York.”

Betty sighed, and Tony shook his head, stepping forward.

“Blonsky was taken into custody, put in cryo. He’s supposed to be under a 24-hour security detail. How the hell did he get out?” “Rumlow.”

Everyone glanced to Steve, who put his hands in his pockets and walked over to look out the window.

“That’s who the General meant when he said ‘former Special Forces.’ Brock’s back.”

Betty turned back from the photo on the screen and looked at Steve.

“Who is Brock ... Rumlow?”

Natasha clicked a few keys on the keyboard and a new photo appeared on the screen. Sam shook his head.

“He survived that explosion?”

Tony waved a hand, and Natasha turned to Betty.

“He was a double agent in S.H.I.E.L.D.” “Tried to kill me.”

Betty looked back to Steve, who had his back to them. Natasha sighed.

“He tried to kill me, too.”

Steve nodded, and Natasha sighed again.

“When S.H.I.E.L.D. disbanded and we all went rogue, Rumlow came gunning for us.” “We fought, until a damn plane crashed into the building. I got away, thought he didn’t.”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, and Betty swallowed as she nodded, looking back to the picture on the screen.

“Okay, so… what does he want? Why would he help Blonsky escape?” “To get to me.”

All eyes turned to Steve, who continued to keep his back to them, looking out the window. Tony moved his head from side to side.

“I’ll bite. Why?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“He hates me for everything that went down when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.” “Not too shabby of a hypothesis.”

Steve rolled his eyes, and Betty shook her head.

“But why? Why would he take Y/N? She said no one knew about you two.”

Steve glanced at her over his shoulder.

“They didn’t.”

Natasha shook her head and Tony rubbed a hand down his face.

“Well, someone clearly did. Otherwise, why take her?” “Hang on a second.”

Tony looked to Sam, who murmured to Natasha, who clicked a few keys and brought up both Blonsky and Rumlow’s photos on the screen. Sam walked forward, crossing his arms over his chest. After a moment, he pointed to Blonsky.

“He’s got beef with the Secretary.”

Sam moved his hand to point at Rumlow.

“He’s got beef with Cap.”

Natasha brought up another picture, setting it in between the two men. Betty sucked in a breath and Sam pointed at the new photo.

“She’s the Secretary’s daughter and Cap’s girl. Taking her satisfies both of their agendas.” “Fuck.”

Tony sat in one of the chairs, covering his eyes with his hands. He tapped his foot on the floor, then lowered his hands.

“If we’re going up against these guys, we’re going to need backup.” “Well, Thor’s dealing with Loki again and Clint insists he’s really retired this time.”

Natasha smiled after she said that, then shook her head as the smile slid from her face.

“And Bruce won’t answer any calls.”

She flicked her eyes to Betty, saw the redness that appeared on her cheeks. Wanda cleared her throat, shrugging her shoulders when they looked her way.

“We can handle this.” “No.”

All eyes turned to Steve as he finally turned from his spot, facing them.

“This is my fight.”

A laugh bubbled from Natasha’s lips. Steve looked to her and she shook her head, moving her chair back from the table and crossed her legs.

“If you think for one second that we’re letting you face them alone…” “I’m not asking any of you to come with me.” “You seriously think you need to ask?”

Steve glanced to Sam, then blew out a breath.

“Rumlow wants me.” “And Blonsky wants the General, but you think we’re going to send him? Try not to be so stubborn for two damn seconds, would you?”

Steve huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. Natasha and Wanda rolled their eyes, and Betty glanced from the women to Steve. Tony stood to his feet, mirroring Steve’s body language, crossing his own arms over his chest. Steve raised an eyebrow, and Natasha shook her head, speaking under her breath.

“He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at her, then looked back to Tony, who wiggled his shoulders.

“Not so intimidating when someone else hits you with it, is it?”

Steve’s arms fell by his sides and he turned away from Tony, squeezing his eyes shut. Tony grabbed his arm and laid a hand on his back, while Sam sprang up from the table and did the same thing on Steve’s other side.  Steve shook his head as they ushered him to one of the chairs.

“She—she was teasing me about that earlier. Saying that I-I was…”

He put his head in his hands and Natasha stood up, walking over to him and running her fingers through his hair.

“She’s going to be okay, Steve. We’ll get her back.”

He lifted his head, stormy blue staring up at her. Natasha swallowed, pushing a smile up. She nodded to him and Betty cleared her throat.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Tony straightened, shaking his head.

“You’ve done so much already.”

Betty laughed, tears coming to her eyes.

“Please don’t patronize me, Mr. Stark.” “I meant it sincerely.”

She nodded, sniffling, looking back to Steve.

“Bring her back.”

Steve swallowed, but gave her a nod. Betty held his eyes, then nodded once. She gathered her things and walked out of the room. When the door was closed behind her, after waiting for just a few heartbeats, Tony clapped his hands together.

“Alright, gang. Let’s get a plan together.”

“So tell me about 1940.”

Steve smiled.

“What do you want to know?”

You shrugged your shoulders, sliding your spoon around the side of the ice cream container Steve was balancing on the bent knee he was resting on the couch. He mirrored your actions with his own spoon on the other side of the container.

“Tell me about life without all the technology.” “God, it was so much simpler.”

You nodded, watching as he slid the spoon between his lips. He swallowed, and you watched the muscles in his neck work, saw his Adam’s apple bob before he spoke.

“Some things are better now. Medical care, for one. Not as many people die from polio.”

You smiled, nodding. Steve sighed.

“But the media? All the TV, music, movies? Movies were a treat back then. The radio was all we had. All we could afford.”

He smiled as he pushed his spoon through the ice cream.

“Ma used to love to listen to The Guiding Light.” “The soap opera?”

Steve shrugged.

“I guess. It didn’t interest me the way it did Ma.”

You smiled.

“I used to watch all the soaps. I had pneumonia when I was in junior high and couldn’t go to school for like a week. Not much to do except watch soaps during the day.” “Did you like The Guiding Light?”

You smiled.

“I did. Your mom had good taste.”

Steve looked down at the ice cream container, a soft smile on his face. He transferred his spoon to his left hand, holding his right hand to you. You smiled, slipping your hand in his, sighing when his warm palm pressed to yours, his long fingers lacing together with yours.

“You remind me of her, a little bit. She was gorgeous, and so are you. Her hair was strawberry blonde, but it was pretty like yours. She was kind and gentle, like you are.” “Steve.” “I miss her. Every day, I miss her a little more. But you … I don’t know. It doesn’t go away, and I don’t think it ever will, but you … you soothe me, as stupid as that sounds.”

You gave his hand a squeeze, and he looked up to you, worry crossing his features when he saw the tears in your eyes. You shook your head, sniffling.

“It’s not stupid. It’s sweet. Very sweet. And you soothe me, too. You make me feel safe.”

You took your hand from his, taking the ice cream from his hands. You set it on the coffee table, then moved to crawl into his lap. Steve smiled, wrapping you in his arms, holding his hands against your back.

“The ice cream’s going to melt.” “We can buy more.”

You looped your arms around his neck, leaning closer to him, gently pressing your lips to his. After a moment, he leaned his head back, looking into your eyes.

“I’m not ready to …”

You nodded.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to. I’m fine with waiting until you’re ready.”

Steve nodded.

“Don’t give up on me.”

You gave a soft laugh.

“Never, Cap.”

He smiled, taking your face in his warm hands, holding you gently as he brought his lips to yours again.

“Where are you?”

Steve turned his head from where he’d been looking out the window, letting his mind wander. Sam sat down beside him, letting out a breath as he adjusted his gear. After a moment of silence, Steve spoke low.

“I’m going to need you to watch me, Sam.” “What, like ‘watch your back?’ You don’t have to tell me that, Cap.” “No, I …”

Steve sighed.

“I mean when we get in there. When we find them. You’re going to have to watch me, because I … I’m not sure I won’t kill Rumlow on sight.”

Sam blinked, then coughed.

“Steve.” “I know what I’m saying.”

Steve turned his head, meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Can you do that for me, Sam?”

Sam just stared at him for a moment, then gave a solemn nod. Steve held his gaze for a moment, then nodded, looking down at his hands. Sam’s voice was easy, conversational, not at all accusatory when he spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell any of us about her?”

Steve sighed.

“I wanted to keep her separate from this life. I didn't want her mixed up in this. I just … I needed someone who didn’t understand what it was like to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. or be in the military. Someone—“ “Normal?”

Steve looked over his shoulder at Sam, then nodded. A smile spread over Sam’s face.

“So you chose the Secretary of State’s daughter? And—not just the Secretary of State, but General Thaddeus Ross’ daughter?”

Steve blinked.

“Maybe I didn’t think this through.”

Sam laughed, and Steve smiled, the first one in a while. He sighed, shaking his head.

“She has to be okay, Sam. If they’ve hurt her in any way…” “Easy.”

Steve huffed out a breath as Sam laid a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll be there soon. We’ll have her back before the sun comes up.”

Steve nodded as Sam stood up, squeezing his shoulder before he walked away. Steve rubbed a hand over his face before he leaned forward, forearms on his knees. He clasped his hands together and, not for the first time since he boarded the jet, closed his eyes and began to pray.

The bell above the door rang and you lifted your head from where you’d been sitting behind the counter, reading a book. You sat up, put a smile on your face and watched the customer come into view.

“Hi there. Can I help you?”

The door jingled as it closed behind him, and he stepped forward. Your breath caught in your throat when his sapphire eyes met yours.

Captain America.

Captain America was in your store.

You swallowed, getting to your feet, making yourself smile.

“I’m Y/N Ross.”

You held out a hand and he stepped forward, clasping your hand in his.

“Steve Rogers.”

Your smile widened slightly.

“I know.”

He looked down, letting go of your hand, and you felt an immediate loss at the warmth his hand had bled into yours.

“Can I help you find something, Captain Rogers?”

He met your eyes again.

“I, uh … I’m not sure. Would it be okay if I just looked around a minute?” “Of course. Take your time. Just … holler if you need anything.”

Steve smiled at you, nodding before he stepped down one of the aisles. You sat back in your chair, putting your head in your hands. Nothing like making a fool of yourself in front of the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. You could feel your cheeks burning, and you shook your head before you lifted it again, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“Miss Ross?”

You turned in the direction of his rich voice, and the smile on his face might have made your knees go weak if you hadn’t been sitting down. Steve motioned down one of the aisles.

“Could you give me some information?”

You smiled.

“Absolutely.”

“Do you drink coffee, Miss Ross?”

You smiled.

“I do, but I prefer my coffee to taste as little like coffee as I can get it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I like frou-frou drinks. Hazelnut, French vanilla, even chocolate. Ooh, mint chocolate is my favorite, but that’s a Christmastime flavor.”

Steve shook his head, a smile on his face.

“Would you … like to get coffee with me sometime?”

You swallowed.

“I’d love to.”

The bell above the door jingled and you glanced that way, eyes widening when Steve stepped through the door, a cup of coffee in each hand. You smiled as he made his way to you, holding out one of the cups.

“Hazelnut caramel macchiato. I hope you like it.”

You blinked, hand reaching to take the cup from him.

“It’s actually my favorite.”

Steve smiled.

“Really?”

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush as your fingers brushed against his as you took the cup from his hand.

“Careful. It’s hot.”

“No kidding,” your traitorous brain whispered. You blew on the tiny hole on the lid, flicking your eyes up to see Steve smiling down at you. Your cheeks burned more as Steve chuckled. You motioned towards the counter, and he followed you, sipping from his coffee as he walked. You walked behind the register and sat on your stool, taking a sip and closing your eyes as you held the warm liquid in your mouth before swallowing it.

“This is perfect.”

Steve smiled, looking down and bringing his coffee cup to his lips as he murmured so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

“Yes, it is.”

“That was fun.”

Steve was behind you as you walked up the back steps of your house.

“You like it out here?”

You glanced over your shoulder, meeting his blue eyes, then taking a look at the property behind him.

“Sometimes it’s lonely, but then again, I am kind of a loner.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow and you laughed.

“I am! I had to learn to be self-sufficient at an early age.” “Really?” “Yes. Do you want to come in? We can talk about it some more.”

You watched as he swallowed, glancing at the door behind you. You smiled, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. You stepped closer to him, speaking softly.

“Nothing has to happen. I’ve just had a really good time with you and I’m not sure I’m ready for it to end.”

Steve nodded, bending his head and brushing his nose against yours, then speaking just as softly.

“I don’t trust myself to be alone with you.” “And that’s a bad thing?”

Steve barked out a laugh as he leaned his head back. He lifted a hand to brush his fingers along your cheek, and you felt warmth rise in the wake of his touch.

“I know things are different now, but in my time…”

You nodded, moving your hands to press against his chest.

“Are you trying to keep my virtue intact, Captain Rogers?”

He groaned, looping his arms around you.

“What if I am?” “Then that’s just something else I can add to the list.” “What list?”

You smiled up at him as you slid your arms up his chest to loop around his neck.

“Things I find charming about you.”

Steve smiled, rolling his eyes, and you turned from him, slipping the key into the door. You dropped your keys back into your purse and turned around to face him again.

“You’re such a good guy, Steve. I—“

Your words died as his arms surrounded you, lips finding yours and kissing you unmercifully. You dropped your purse as you wrapped your arms around him, holding the back of his head as his tongue coaxed yours into a slow dance that you felt in every cell in your body. His hands pressed against your back, pushing you closer to him, until you could feel his heartbeat crashing against your own.

Far too soon for your liking, he pulled back, pressing one last gentle kiss to your lips before standing tall again. You held onto him until your legs felt steady, and you looked up to find a grin on his face.

“You might think I’m a good guy, but I never said I was a saint, Y/N.”

You blinked a few times, and Steve moved his hands down your arms to give your hands a squeeze. You looked down, then met his eyes again.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” “Good … goodnight, Steve.”

He smiled at you, stepping back and watching you open the door and step into your house. Once he heard the lock click, he turned and walked away.

Meanwhile, inside, you had your back to the door, leaning against it as you slid down to the floor, staring into the distance as it hit you like a ton of bricks.

At least eight weeks of getting to know each other, a few cups of coffee, one true date, one incredible goodnight kiss. That was all it took.

You were in love with Steve Rogers.

“Hey, come on now. Open those pretty eyes.”

You moaned, trying to lift your head, but it felt  so heavy. Pain filled your senses, seeming to seep from every inch of your body. Your arms were heavy, but that was because … they were suspended above your head.

“Come on, sugar.”

That put a bad taste in your mouth. Who was saying that? You shifted, trying to get comfortable, gasping when you were slapped across the face, hard.

“What the hell, man?! Don’t break her fucking jaw.” “You know she’s awake. I heard the change in her breathing.” “How many times do I have to go over this? The sedative is tough to come out of. Not to mention the way you manhandled her all the way up here. She’s not the one we want here, remember?”

You blinked your eyes open, blinking over and over again to try and clear them, but the blurry scene in front of you made your already aching head throb. A man knelt before you, but not the scarred one you’d seen in your store. He smiled, and you felt a chill roll down your spine.

“There she is. Look alive, love.”

The scarred man laughed at the face you made.

“Blonsky. She’s disgusted with you.”

Blonsky rolled his eyes.

“And the rest of the world is disgusted with you, so I guess we're even.”

You coughed, closing your eyes at the pain that sent through your body. You lifted your head, meeting the eyes of the scarred man.

“Why?”

Your voice was scratchy, the words coming from a dry throat. The man sighed, crossing muscled arms over his chest.

“It’s not you. You’re just …” “A means to an end. An unfortunate casualty.”

You closed your eyes, hanging your head. You couldn’t give up hope that Steve would come for you, but you didn’t want him walking into what you were almost certain would be a trap. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that not all of you would be making it out of this one.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Steve glanced up, blinking to try and ebb the memories swimming through his head, trying to ground himself in reality again. Tony was in front of him, and Steve nodded as Tony sat across from him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“I wanted to keep her as separate from all of this as I could.” “I think you mean sheltered.”

Steve shook his head.

“I didn’t want her to have to deal with this. Flying on quinjets to God knows where. S.H.I.E.L.D., before everything imploded.” “Cap.”

Steve looked up.

“No, I’m not trying to get your attention. I’m adding to your list. You don’t want her to deal with Cap.” “I am Cap, Tony.” “Not necessarily.”

Tony stood up, pacing as he talked.

“I mean, sure. I am Iron Man. But I’m also Tony Stark. Pepper doesn’t—didn’t …”

He sighed.

“She called me Tony. Not Iron Man. We’re the same guy, but … not.” “Are you trying to say something about Cap being my alter ego?” “Yes and no. You’re one and the same, but … Cap is a role you play. He always has been, whether it’s against Nazis or Asgardians or your friendly neighborhood terrorist.”

Steve just watched him and Tony sighed as he sat back down.

“Correct me if I’m wrong. She doesn’t know when we go on missions.”

Steve was quiet, so Tony went on.

“But she deals with the aftermath of those missions?”

Steve raised an eyebrow and Tony nodded.

“She cleans you up, bandages your boo-boos?” “Tony.”

He smiled, holding his hands up.

“I’m just saying, it sounds like she gets it. You don’t let her see Cap, but she helps you … decompress, if you will.”

Steve nodded.

“She does.” “And you can just be Steve around her.”

Steve closed his eyes and nodded. Tony stepped over, gripping Steve’s shoulder.

“We’ll get her back.”

Steve swallowed, nodding as he closed his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

Steve smiled from his place at the table, where he was sipping coffee and watching you. You had your back to him, slowly stirring a big pot on the stove. You glanced over your shoulder and he smiled.

“Anytime you want.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. You swallowed and turned back to face the pot, letting out a breath. You tried to get your thoughts in order, jumping and giving a nervous laugh when Steve stepped up behind you, laying his hands on your hips.

“What is it?”

You let out a breath.

“Do you want to move in with me?”

Steve was quiet, and your heart dropped. He stepped away from you and you suddenly felt so cold without him touching you. You closed your eyes, moving to the refrigerator to pull some more ingredients out. Steve took hold of your wrist and you smiled, pulling out of his grip.

“Forget I said anything. I’ve got to grab the cream.” “Just wait a second.” “Can you just add a cup of this to the pot? I have a-a thing I forgot about.” “Y/N, stop.”

You closed your eyes as he turned you to face him.

“Look at me.”

You shook your head and he sighed.

“Please look at me.”

You opened your eyes, hating yourself that you couldn’t stop the tears that had welled up. Steve sighed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

You looked away and he took hold of your face, forcing you to look at him again.

“I’m still trying to come to grips with this world. What I’m used to, people don’t move in together. Not unless they’re married. My whole life, that’s all I’ve known. That’s the norm for me.”

You blinked, a tear slipping down your face that Steve caught on his thumb.

“I just … I feel like I’m doing something wrong. I know I’m not, but … god. It’s like I’m waiting for my mom to walk in and catch me. I’m trying everything I can not to feel that way, but …”

He sighed and you sniffled.

“I get it.”

You smiled and moved away from him, back to turn the fire down under the pot of soup you were making. You gave a shaky sigh and Steve wrapped his arms around you from behind, putting his face in your neck. You closed your eyes, lifting your head to try and make yourself stop crying.

“I want a life with you.”

You opened your eyes and he went on, voice muffled from your hair.

“I want to marry you and move into this house and cocoon the both of us away from the rest of the world.”

You turned to face him, and he kept his head down, shaking it as he spoke.

“But I can’t. I can’t walk away from the Avengers. I can’t not be there if someone needs me.”

He lifted his head, and the breath caught in your throat when you saw the tears sparkling in his blue eyes.

“And I can’t have even the possibility of you being in danger just because someone knows you’re mine. I hate having to sneak around and hide like we do, but … god, Y/N. I can’t risk anything happening to you. I can’t … I won’t make it.”

You threw your arms around him, closing your eyes as his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you to his chest. Your throat felt thick, but you forced the words out.

“It’s okay, Steve. We’re okay.” “No, we’re not.”

He stepped away from you, sniffling and wiping a hand under his nose. You wiped your eyes and he put his hands on his hips.

“Do you think I’m ashamed of you?” “What? No!”

You shook your head.

“Are you … is that why you think I asked you to move in? No. Steve, I … I just want to spend all the time with you I can. And I hate it when you sneak off after I’ve fallen asleep.”

He shook his head and you walked to him, laying a hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his five o’ clock shadow.

“I love you.” “I can barely do anything with you. We can’t even go and get a damn cup of coffee.” “You think I care about that?”

Steve stepped away from you, putting his hands back on his hips. You shook your head.

“What is it that you have a problem with?”

Steve shook his head.

“Everyone out there knows me.” “So what?!”

He blinked at the sudden volume you put into your voice and you shook your head.

“They don’t know you. They know of you. They know Cap. They don’t know you.”

He blinked again and you stepped to him, tears in your eyes as you poked your finger into his chest.

“I know you. I know what a wonderful man you are. I know the way you think, the way you act. I know what it’s like when you wake up in the morning, what you do before you go to sleep at night.”

You shook your head, letting your hand fall.

“I know that you like the taste of coffee and the smell of fresh cut grass. I know you hate zucchini, but you’ll make yourself eat it because it’s good for you. I know that your hands are big but gentle, you think you’re too sensitive, and you used to be allergic to strawberries. And … I have never had anyone look at me the way you do and I’ve never felt safe with anyone except you.”

He took a step towards you and you took a step back, trying to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I don’t feel like you’re ashamed of me. You’re trying to keep me safe, and I get it. I may not understand it completely, but I don’t have to. I trust you, Steve. I know you and I love you.”

Your back hit the counter, and you sucked in a breath as Steve stepped into your personal space, laying his hands on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. You swallowed, meeting his eyes.

“Those people may think they know you, but they don’t. I do.”

His head dipped and his lips found yours. You moved your hands to grip his bulging biceps, and he reached a hand back and pulled his shirt over his head.

“You’re right. You know me, in ways no one ever has. Even Bucky doesn’t know some of the things I’ve told you.”

You blinked, tightening your hold on his arms.

“Everything you’ve told me, I’ll take it to my grave, if that’s what you want.”

Steve’s face twisted as he moved his hands from the counter, wrapping them around you and pulling you to his warm chest. You closed your eyes and he shook his head.

“I don’t ever want to think about losing you.” “You’ve got me right now.”

Steve sighed.

“I feel like I’ve wasted so much time with you already.”

You shook your head.

“It hasn’t been wasted.”

You leaned back until he looked at you again. You studied his face, shaking your head once more.

“You’ve been like this ever since you got back from Sokovia. What happened there that you haven’t told me?”

Steve took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“I just … I saw a future. One I should have had. But it … I didn’t fit in it. I don’t fit in here.”

He stepped away from you, hanging his head.

“It’s not the forties anymore. I’m trying so hard to fit into this time, but … I just don’t fit.”

You gave a shaky sigh, going to him and grabbing his hand, placing it over your heart.

“You fit. You fit with me.”

You pulled him into your arms, closing your eyes when he buried his face in your hair.

“You fit right here with me.”

The jet slowly touched down and Steve was the first one off. He looked at the desolate land around them, eyes focusing on what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse just ahead.

He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him and watched Tony deplane, followed by Natasha and Wanda, Vision, and finally, Sam. Natasha walked up beside him, letting out a breath.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Steve glanced down at her and she smirked as she tied her fiery hair into a ponytail. Wanda, just behind her, did the same thing. Vision stepped beside Steve and scanned the warehouse.

“Top two floors are empty. There’s an underground basement—“ “Which is exactly where Blonsky wants us. Don’t give him what he wants.”

Steve nodded at Tony’s statements. He swallowed, keeping his eyes on the warehouse as Sam stepped up. Steve pointed with two fingers.

“Post on the roof.”

Sam nodded.

“I can send Redwing in, get him to scan the entrances and exits.” “Do it.”

Sam pressed a few buttons on his armpiece and the small drone flew from its resting spot on the pack Sam wore on his back. Steve felt an itch between his shoulder blades, and he blew out a breath, slowly shaking his head. He turned at the soft clearing of a throat beside him, and Wanda stepped to his left, shaking her head, speaking low.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Steve swallowed, but nodded once. Natasha lifted a shoulder.

“It would be weird if you had a good feeling, you know?”

Steve let out a huff, all of them turning when Sam let out a curse.

“Redwing’s down. Or … destroyed. I don’t—“

The girls jumped when an explosion sounded, fire suddenly pouring from the side of the building. Tony reached out, but Steve had already taken off running. Tony sighed, closing his helmet, holding out his hands as he flew forward.

Steve stepped into the building, eyes scanning the room. He felt a presence behind him, a few moments before he heard Natasha’s husky voice in his ear.

“All clear.” “There seems to be two heat signals on the floor above us.” “Just two, Vision?”

There was a pause, a short break before Vision’s voice sounded again.

“I’m only picking up two. And I do believe one is Ms. Ross, Captain.”

Steve swallowed.

“Is she okay, Vision?” “I’m sorry, I cannot tell that from my current location.”

Steve hung his head, and Tony’s voice came through his communication earpiece.

“Goal here is to rescue Y/N. I’m sure the secretary would like us to bring Blonsky and Rumlow back alive, so …”

Steve glanced to his left as Sam walked up beside him, face turned from his communication device, speaking low enough for only Steve to hear.

“Do what you gotta do.”

Steve gave a nod, lifting a hand to touch the device in his ear.

“You all know the drill. If you get hurt, hurt ‘em back.”

He clenched his jaw to keep himself from finishing the thought, from saying what he really wanted to make sure happened to Rumlow and Blonsky. He swallowed again, glancing to Sam when Wanda’s low voice came over the comm.

“Locked door, end of the hallway, floor above you. Vision’s waiting on orders to go through the wall.” “Hold.”

Wanda must have nodded, and Steve started towards her, Sam on his right, Natasha behind him. Tony’s voice came through the comm again.

“I tried to check outside, but of course there are no windows, so I’m at a loss here.” “Stay where you are. Keep an eye out for the H--”

Steve stopped himself, glancing back at Natasha. Her cheeks went red as she stared into the distance. Sam cleared his throat, speaking low.

“The Abomination, I believe he was called.”

Steve gave a nod.

“The Abomination, then. Tony, you’re the only one with enough firepower to take him down.” “Captain, I’m a bit offended at your lack of faith in me.”

Steve smiled at Wanda’s soft statement.

“I apologize, Miss Maximoff.” “She’s got a point, Cap. I could use her.”

Steve glanced to Natasha, who gave him a nod. Steve nodded, speaking softly as he, Natasha, and Sam silently made their way up the stairs. They came upon Wanda and Vision, and Steve spoke so softly he barely made any noise at all.

“Wanda, see if you can find Tony. The two of you could definitely take care of … Blonsky.” “Yes, sir.”

Steve rolled his eyes, swallowing as she descended the stairs. He turned to the locked door and squared his shoulders, taking hold of the doorknob and lifting the door off its hinges. He tossed it aside, spine straightening when he heard Rumlow’s rough voice.

“All about the grandstanding, aren’t you?”

Steve turned to face him, sucking in a breath at the sight of his scarred, mangled face. Brock nodded, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Kind of takes your breath away there at first, doesn’t it?” “Where is she?”

Brock let out a laugh.

“Cutting right to the chase, huh?” “I swear to God, Rumlow.” “That’s not very Christian of you, Cap.”

Sam’s hand on his chest was the only thing that stopped Steve from putting his shoulder down and running until he rammed it into Brock’s torso. Sam straightened, murmuring “Steady” under his breath until Steve calmed the slightest bit. Brock bared his teeth, tilting his neck to one side, the bones giving an audible crack as he did.

“Sam Wilson. Sam motherfucking Wilson.” “Sorry, I don’t remember your name. What was it again?”

Brock narrowed his eyes, then tilted his head to the other side, the bones in his neck giving another audible crack.

“Two for one. This’ll be great.”

Sam went to open his mouth, closing it quickly and grunting when Brock rushed forward, each of his hands landing punches on both Steve and Sam’s faces. Sam and Steve, even double-teaming, were no match for Brock. Brock landed a kick to Steve’s chest, sending him flying backwards, and when Sam knelt beside him, Steve shook his head, blood leaking from his split lip.

“He’s enhanced.”

Sam nodded.

“Got to be.” “Fight fire with fire?”

Sam gave him a grin.

“Let’s call in the big dogs first.”

Before either of them could say a word, Brock’s head snapped back as Natasha was on him, effortlessly crawling up him and locking her legs around his neck, bringing him to the ground.

Steve caught her in his arms when Brock kicked, sending her flying, and Natasha coughed as Steve backed out of the room with her. He set her on the ground, kneeling beside her, watching as she coughed and sputtered and shook her head.

“You okay?”

Natasha shook her head.

“Back—corner.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her. She shook her head again, wincing as she held a hand to her chest. She spoke again, the words coming rushed, yet spaced out, due to the wind being kicked out of her.

“The back wall … doesn’t … match the rest … of the … the room.”

Steve let the words register and he leaned closer.

“You think it’s a facade?”

Natasha shrugged her shoulders, coughing again.

“I think … she’s back there.”

Steve nodded as he clenched his jaw. He stood up, walking when Natasha waved him on, jogging back into the room and immediately diving into hand-to-hand combat with Brock. Sam was wincing on the ground, trying to push himself back into a standing position, but Steve could see an obvious deformity just under his elbow. Steve ducked, jamming his fists into Brock’s torso, leaning back when Brock let out a laugh and stepped around him.

“Is that all you’ve got, Captain?”

Brock spit out the title, and Steve ground his teeth together before he straightened his spine. He brought his fists up by his face and sneered at Brock.

“I can do this all day.”

Brock let out a yell and ran forward, landing blow after blow on Steve. Steve did the best he could to block the punches, but Brock was relentless. Steve landed a few punches of his own, but Brock wasn’t phased. The only respite came when Brock finagled Steve’s legs out from under him, making him land hard on his back. Steve stared up at the ceiling, letting his head roll to the side to see Sam sitting with his back against the wall, chest heaving. Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and Steve couldn’t even account for Tony, Wanda, or Vision. He let out a shaky breath, moaning as he rolled to one side, wincing as he pushed himself up, at the burning pain that filled his chest, what he could only imagine was his broken ribs trying to repair themselves. He shakily got to his feet and Brock rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had enough of this. Haven’t you?”

Steve shook his head.

“I told you. I could … do this all day.”

Brock let out a laugh.

“Maybe so. But can she?”

Steve’s eyes widened as Brock walked to the back corner of the room, to the space Natasha had noticed early on. Brock kicked the wall and it crumbled, and Steve watched as two men stepped through the dust and plaster, carrying every piece of Steve’s heart between them.

As Steve gave a broken scream, Sam jumped up, gritting his teeth against the pain in his broken arm, his chest, and his legs, grabbing hold of one side of Steve. Natasha held the other side, and Sam would swear it was only by the soft touch of her hand to his cheek that Steve stopped dragging them across the floor in his attempt to make his way across the room. Brock grabbed the girl the men held between them, and the moan she gave when he grabbed a handful of her hair sent a shock of relief through Sam’s body. She was bleeding, limp, bruised … but alive.

“Easy. Take it easy.” “Y/N—“ “Easy.”

Natasha’s low voice kept up a steady murmur, a bit of white noise to block out the screaming of Steve’s heart. Brock gave a laugh, lifting Y/N’s bruised and battered face.

“Every punch you threw, she felt. Did … did I forget to mention that?”

Brock gave another laugh, and Sam planted his feet in an effort to hold Steve back.

“You’re dead, Rumlow. You hear me?!”

Brock rolled his eyes, turning and punching your torso. You cried out, head falling forward when Brock dropped your hair from his fist. Brock nodded to the two men holding you up, and they started to move back.

The one on the left, then the right fell forward, knocked out—or worse—thanks to a blast from Tony’s—well, Iron Man’s—hands through the collapsed wall. You crumpled between them, but Brock caught you before you hit the floor. Brock shook his head, disgust evident on his scarred face as he looked to the trio in front of him.

“I guess they were right, huh? If you want something done right, do it yourself.”

He moved you to stand in front of him, one arm around your torso holding you upright against him. He moved his other hand to grasp your chin, forcing your head up.

“Come on, now sweetheart. Open those pretty eyes for me.” “Rumlow, I swear to God—“ “Ah, I don’t think so.”

You screamed as Brock’s hand gripped your arm, his grip tightening until everyone in the room heard your bone crack.

“Stop! Stop. God, please, just stop.”

Steve wrenched himself free from Natasha and Sam’s holds and he held a hand to his chest.

“Take me. Do whatever you want. Just let her go.” “No.”

Steve went still at your soft voice, and his eyes locked on yours, bloodshot and bruising, yet still the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. A soft smile came to his face as tears filled his eyes.

“Hey, you.” “Good God, Rogers. She’s ruined you.” “Let her go. Now.”

Brock let out a laugh.

“See, here’s the thing.”

He moved his hand to your throat, your eyes widening as his grip tightened little by little.

“Very soon, and I mean very, very soon, Stark and the others will discover that the Abomination has a kill switch. A, uh … suicide gene, if you will. And by that, I mean—“

Your knees buckled as the entire building shook, plaster and dust falling from the ceiling, a dark grin on Brock’s face. The fire from the bomb the Abomination had strapped to him roared outside, and Natasha’s hand flew to her ear.

“Tony? Tony, do you copy?”

She met Sam’s eyes, shaking her head.

“Wanda? Vision? Anybody, talk to me.”

When she got no response, Brock sighed.

“Damn shame. Anyway, back to this.”

You gasped as his hand tightened around your throat. Steve took a step forward and Brock stepped back, shaking his head.

“Don’t come any closer, or I swear to God, I’ll snap her neck. Neither one of us wants that, so just stand down, Cap.”

Steve clenched his jaw, but nodded, taking a step backwards. Natasha and Sam began slowly making their way around the room, and Brock sighed.

“Call your dogs off, will you? Either one of them takes another step and I’ll toss her out the window.”

Steve held up a hand and Natasha and Sam slowly walked back to their places by the door. Brock shook his head, glancing out the window that had been hidden by the false wall that you’d been held behind, watching the fire rage through the snow.

“I lost everything because of you. Everything we’d worked so hard for. We infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. without anybody noticing. We brought them down, and for a moment, we were on top of the world. And then, all of that was gone. Thanks to you.”

You gasped again, feet leaving the floor as Brock lifted you up by your neck. You stared at Steve, shaking your head, praying he’d stay back. You didn’t want to die, but you couldn’t see any other way this would end. Steve stared at you, tears in his blue eyes and you tried to smile at him. You knew your face had to be turning red as hard as it was to breathe, and black spots were dancing in your vision.

That’s why you didn’t trust it when you thought you saw something glowing red through the far window above the staircase, way behind Steve.

You met Steve’s eyes again and moved your mouth, hoping he could understand you.

It’s okay. I love you.

He shook his head, reaching a hand for you, and that’s when everything gave way to chaos.

Tony burst through the shattered wall, hitting Brock with a blast to his back that sent him jolting forward. He kept hold of you, yelling when a glowing red ball of fire hit his side. You turned your head in time to see Steve reach behind him, and that was the moment time seemed to stop.

It all happened in the same second. There was no avoiding it. Brock pushed you forward at the same time Steve grabbed his shield. Brock stumbled behind you and hit the ground hard, screaming as Wanda enveloped him in glowing red ropes. Vision hovered over him, knocking him out through the stone in his forehead. Natasha turned at the same time Sam did, as Tony’s feet landed on the ground, as Wanda and Vision lifted their heads from where they were holding Brock.

“Oh god.”

Natasha’s low, terrified voice broke through the sudden, piercing silence, Steve’s eyes widening when you came into his vision.

“No.”

You stood there, frozen to the ground. Your hands held onto Steve’s shield, the one he’d thrown at Brock with all of his strength, but when Brock had pushed you forward, you caught the brunt of the blow instead. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, anything, but unable to as blood poured from your lips.

It was funny; you knew you should be feeling pain—an enormous amount of pain—but you weren’t. You lifted your eyes, locking onto Steve’s, seeing the horrified look on his face. You wanted to smile at him, to tell him everything was okay, even though it was so very not. Instead, you just stared at him as blackness began darkening the edges of the room you could see, giving way to tunnel vision, until there was nothing.

“You know, I called you here to help me. I didn’t call you here so you cuddle with Hunter while I’m being torn apart from the inside,” you groan against your pillow. Your heat had hit you harder than you expected last night. So, this morning you called your best friend Charlie for help. She is also an Omega.  So, you are hoping she may have a trick or two up her sleeve that can help you. You have to be at work in a couple hours so you need something quick to quell your unexpected heat.

“But he’s so much friendlier than you are!” Charlie teases you. She leaves Hunter’s side to flop down on the bed beside you. “You’re always so grumpy when you’re in heat,” she informs you. She sits up and rests the back of her hand on your forehead. “But I’ve never seen it get this bad before. Maybe we should go to the hospital,” she suggests. Her sudden shift into a serious tone catches you off guard. You didn’t think you were that bad.

“I know you’ve been mated for a few years now. But, you can’t sit there and tell me you don’t remember what doctors do with unmated Omegas in heat.” You raise a knowing brow up at her.

Charlie shivers at the old memory. “I didn’t think they were still doing that. I thought for sure someone would have put a stop to that kind of… torture,” she says in a solemn tone.  

“You know how things are. Nothing is going to change unless people start giving a shit about Omegas. And, that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. So… no hospitals.” You have to put your foot down. Current medical interventions for unmated Omegas are more dangerous than the heat itself. The treatments are barbaric and you’d rather die than go through that again.

“Got it. No hospital!” Charlie agrees.

A cramp rips through your lower belly. You roll onto your side to curl into yourself. When the painful spasms stop, you open your eyes. Charlie is gone. When she comes back into the room, she is holding your suppressants and some whiskey.

“I can’t drink that. I have to be at work in…” you look at the clock and groan, “two hours.”

“What kind of asshole makes you go in on a Saturday? Just tell them you’re sick! You always work through your heats. They owe you! They will understand if you need to take one day to yourself, a non-workday might I add!” Charlie says with an annoyed huff. She sets the whiskey and pills down on your nightstand.

“Under normal circumstances, I would take you up on that. But my new boss… I have a feeling he’ll throw a fit if I don’t show up.”

“Your new boss… the Alpha?” She raises an eyebrow up at you and gives you a knowing smirk.

You roll your eyes. You never should have told her about Sam. But your fevered brain makes you chattier than you’d usually be. “Yes, the Alpha. But he prefers to be called Sam,” you inform her.

“You sure about that?” she winks at you. “Because Dorothy loves it when I call her Alpha! She even insists on it,” Charlie offers you a wicked smile as she conjures up a raunchy memory in her mind.

“I’m sure she does. But I’m also sure she doesn’t like it when her coworkers call her Alpha. That title is reserved only for you, her Omega,” you remind your friend.

“True. But from what you told me, you may be Sam’s-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence!” You sit yourself up and try getting out of bed. But, your weakened limbs have other plans. You try storming away but end up tumbling to the ground instead.

Charlie rushes around the bed to kneel in front of you. You don’t look hurt, simply frustrated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to piss you off. But, you need to take it easy!” She uses the corner of your blanket to wipe the sweat from your brow. Charlie knows the idea of being claimed is a touchy subject for you. She usually knows better than to bring it up. But the way you were talking about Sam earlier, made Charlie want to push the issue.

“He’s not my Alpha,” you say completely ignoring everything else she said.

“I know,” Charlie says to appease you. She knows you’re not in the mood to be teased about your office crush. She helps you off the ground and sets you back on the bed. She bites he lip as she hesitates to bring something up. She knows you won’t like her offer but you’re running out of options. “I lied!” Charlie blurts out.

“You lied about what?” You look up at her with curiosity.

“I lied to you about how I met Dorothy! I know it’s been years and she’ll kill me for bringing it up but whatever. You know how I said we met at a midnight screening of the Wizard of Oz? I was dressed as the tinman and she was… well Dorothy?” Charlie asks for your confirmation.

“Yeah…”

“Well that was a load of horse shit. We did go to a screening all dressed up… but we were already together at that point. We actually met when I was in heat. I called an ‘Alpha for Hire’ company to help me through it.  You remember how bad my heats were before Dorothy… so you are not allowed to judge me! I was too stressed out to find an Alpha the old-fashioned way and I thought-”

“Whoa!” You cut her off as you notice she is starting to ramble. “You can’t honestly think I would judge you for something like that. I know how bad you had it. Trust me, I get it. But was Dorothy really an Alpha-by-the-hour? Now that you mention it, I can totally picture that! She has a very calming presence. She would be good at handling distressed Omegas. Does she still work there?”

You are more surprised than anything else. You don’t blame Charlie for calling that company. Omegas have to do what they have to do to survive. You also don’t blame her for keeping it a secret. There is a certain stigma attached to renting an Alpha for your heat. People assume you are not good enough to find a permanent Alpha. But that is just discriminatory bullshit.

“No, I was her last customer. When she claimed me, she said she couldn’t imagine being with any other Omega. So, she quit,” Charlie says with a soft smile.

You return her smile even though it wasn’t meant for you. It is a romantic notion, an Alpha giving up her job and sea of willing Omegas for her one true mate. That is not common practice. Charlie is a one in a million case. “You got one of the good ones,” you smile at your friend’s contagious happiness.

“Look, I am only telling you this because I have something for you.” Charlie reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a business card. “It’s Dorothy’s old company. They have male Alphas too. She keeps in touch with her old boss. If you use her name, they will know to send over their best guy. Plus, she can get you a friends and family discount!” Charlie winks at you and you roll your eyes.

You take the card and look it over. You shake your head. You hand it back to her before your inner Omega gets too tempted. “I can’t. Thank you, but I can’t,” you say as you push yourself off the bed one more time. This time, you take it slow so you don’t fall down again.

Why not? An Alpha could help you. Like I said, I’ve never seen you this bad before. I-Is it because of Sam?” Charlie asks with hesitation. She knows the question will piss you off so she braces herself for your angered response. To her surprise, the anger never comes.

“N-No…I don’t think so,” you look at your feet as Charlie helps walk you to the washroom to start getting ready.

The truth is, the second you held that business card in your hand, you thought of Sam. You wondered if he would be mad at you for even considering it. It is an irrational thought. You only met him yesterday. He is your boss, nothing more. Intuitively, you know you should not let him influence your private decisions. But the thought was automatic. Your brain must really be fried from this unexpected heat.

Charlie doesn’t push the issue. This is something you need to decide for yourself. She can’t force an Alpha on you, even if it will help in the long run. Charlie just helps you get ready for work in silence.

You are half way out the door when Charlie stops you. “You never took your suppressants this morning!” she reminds you.

“I know, I think something is wrong with them. I have to check to see if they are expired or something. They just stopped working yesterday morning. And now, they are messing with my heat, making it come early and stronger than ever before.”

“Are you sure it is the pills?” Charlie asks.

“What else would it be?” You ask with utter confusion.

Charlie shrugs and keeps her opinion to herself. She knows the telltale signs of when an Omega finds her true mate. She went through the same thing when she met Dorothy. The only problem is, you are more stubborn. You may not realize what is happening to you. If you fail to acknowledge your mate’s call, your body will respond in terrible ways. But that bond is something you need to accept on your own terms. Charlie hopes you do before it’s too late.

Just in case you’re not ready to accept Sam yet, Charlie slips the Alpha for Hire business card into your purse. If your heat continues at this rate, you won’t make it through without an Alpha.

Charlie drives you to work because you are in no position to operate heavy machinery.

“Call me when you’re done. Don’t let that dick work you too hard!” Charlie shouts out the window of her car.

“I am assuming that I am that dick?” Sam’s voice startles you from behind. He leans over to look inside the car. Charlie is sporting a guilty smile. He waves at her.

“Are you Sam?” she asks.

He nods.

“Then, yes. You are that dick I was referring to. You make my girl come in on a weekend while she is in-”

“Alright! Charlie, thank you! But time for you to go now!” You cut off your friend before she tells the whole world your personal business and gets you fired. “Say goodbye, Charlie.”

“Goodbye… Sam,” Charlie all but purrs his name just to embarrass you. Sam laughs as he waves her off.

You lean into the car and whisper so only Charlie can hear you. “I hate you. You know that, right?”

“I know. I love you too!” she shouts as she peels out of the parking lot.

You turn around expecting Sam to have gone inside already. But he is still there waiting for you. The warm smile on his lips puts you at ease. It wouldn’t be the first time Charlie has gotten you in trouble. So, you’re happy now isn’t one of those times. You don’t have the energy to defend yourself or your friend right now.

“I like her,” Sam says as he guides you into the building.

“You want her? You can have her. She’s your problem now! No take backs,” you joke as you wait for the elevator. You look around the lobby for Henry but then remember it is the weekend and he won’t be around.

When the elevator arrives, you step inside. However, Sam stays in the lobby. “I-I forgot something from my car. I’ll meet you up there,” he says before he steps back to let the elevator close without him.

Sam waits for the doors to close and for you to be out of sight before he stumbles back. He rests his weight against the wall. And releases the breath he had been holding since he ran into you in the parking lot.

You’re in heat. He noticed it the moment you were within range. Sam adjusts his pants so the noticeable bulge is strategically hidden. Sam corrects himself. He can’t let you effect him like this, not while he’s at work. 

He steps forward and waits for the elevator to come back. When he steps inside, you scent still lingers in the confined space. He lied to you about forgetting something in his car because he didn’t think he could stand being alone with you in such a tight space. He doesn't trust himself. But now, he is still tortured by your scent and doesn’t have the luxury of being near you.

He doesn’t know how he will make it through the afternoon. He should have just let you have the day off. You will be nothing but his greatest distraction. Sam stumbles out of the elevator when he reaches his floor. He clears his throat and stands up straight. He has a job to do. The sooner he cements this new deal, the sooner he can send you home.

Sam has to pass your office to get to his. He has every intention of rushing to his office and locking himself inside until everyone else shows up. But, as Sam walks by your open door, he stops in his tracks. He sees you sitting behind your desk. The bright smile on your face captivates him even more than your scent does. He didn’t think that was even possible. You are holding the mug Sam spent the previous night reassembling for you.

He watches as you trace your finger along the noticeable cracks. Your smile widens as you poke at the dried glue that seeped from the fractured porcelain. You can feel that you are not alone, so you look up at your door. You see Sam standing off to the side watching your reaction. You hug the mug to your chest and offer your wordless gratitude. 

The prospect of putting a little joy in your eyes is what drove Sam to stay late last night. But the warm way you are looking at him now, exceeds his every hope.

Sam offers a humble shrug before pushing off your doorway. He leaves before he says something to ruin the quiet moment. Sam still doesn’t understand why a mug would make you that happy. You put the mug on the corner of your desk beside your framed photo of Hunter. Sam will never understand. It is not the mug that made you so happy.

You sit at your desk and try to get some work done before the guest of honour arrives. This guy better be the world’s greatest lawyer if he is worth all the department heads coming in on a Saturday. But you find you are a little less annoyed about it than you were this morning. Every so often, your eyes flicker between the file on your lap and the mug on your desk. This day isn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

As you sit and wait, you suddenly realize that your immobilizing camps have dulled into a subtle ache. You notice how your sweaty skin is barely even clammy anymore. You chalk your easing heat up to the fact that you are at work and have the opportunity to distract yourself. You fail to consider that the Alpha down the hall is influencing you. In reality, he mere presence is putting you at ease. His proximity is all it takes for your body to respond favourably. But, you refuse to let that thought into the forefront of your mind.  

You are playing with the corners of a page you are not really reading when there is a knock at your door. The man standing in your doorway offers you a twinkling smile. You notice right away; this man is an Alpha. If you couldn’t tell by his scent, his presence says it all. 

His teeth are straight and white, his jaw could cut glass, and he is even taller than Sam. His bicep looks larger than your head and yet his navy-blue suit fits him perfectly. He stares at you with deep brown eyes through thick lashes. His appearance would have any woman drooling onto the floor. But the second you catch his scent, you stomach churns with disgust.

The stranger looks around the room with a smug look on his face. He assumes your silence is due to admiration. He has that effect on women, especially Omegas. But in reality, you are keeping your mouth shut to swallow your encroaching bile. “Awfully big office for a secretary. Where is your boss, honey? I believe he is expecting me. I am Daniel Reid.”

You bite your cheek as you contemplate how to play this. This man is obviously an asshole and on any other day, you would lay him out. But today, you don’t have the extra energy to expend. So, you keep your correction short and sweet. “My name is Y/N, not honey. I am not Mr. Winchesters assistant. I am the head of human resources. I am in charge of the hiring process actually,” you return his smug smile. “Sam is down the hall, last door on your left. Good luck,” you scoff at the stereotypical Alpha.

You know Sam wants you to schmooze this asshole but he picked the wrong day to push your buttons. You may not have the energy to start a fight with him, but you also don’t have the energy to feign pleasantries.

“My bad,” the Alpha raises his palms in defence. He steps further into your office and lets out a dramatic shiver. “It sure is chilly in here. I am guessing you are the office Ice Queen.” He smiles at you again, only it is much less charming. There is a look of resentment hidden under his facade. “Every office has one. There is always one silly Omega who wants to play professional. Here is a tip, honey. If you want to be taken seriously, don’t come to work while you are in heat. All you do is stink up the joint. Plus, you make every Alpha in the office wager how much slick will be pooling in your panties by the end of the day. It is very distracting,” Reid licks his lips.

You stare up at the man in utter shock. You have been at this company for years. You have been shielded from a lot of the discrimination Omegas usually face in the work place. So, you had forgotten how hostile of an environment this can be. You forgot just how low you can be made to feel.

The Alpha looks at your bare and unclaimed neck. He grins at you. He knows you won’t challenge him. Not just because he is an Alpha and you are an Omega. But because he is highly sought-after in his field. This is the third company he’s met with this week. Each one offers more money and better incentives. If you value your job, you’ll take his degradation in stride.

He wonders how far he can push you. Reid has no patience for Omegas in the workplace. Had he known this company even hires Omegas, he wouldn’t have taken the interview. He believes that any company that hires Omegas cannot be serious about profits. Omegas are dead weight that absorb resources and distract from productivity. But now that he is here, he may as well have a little fun before he turns down Mr. Winchester’s offer.

Daniel strides up to your desk. He scans the clutter on top with a judgmental eye. His finger dance along your personal items. He picks up your rebuilt mug. “Cute,” he hums to himself.

“Don’t touch that,” you finally release your voice.

“Oh, it speaks!” Reid mocks you. “I was afraid you were going to make this difficult for me.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you ask more out of curiosity than anything else. This man is infuriating but it is nothing you haven’t heard before. You are genuinely curious where his sense of entitlement comes from.

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, honey.” There is a hardened threat underneath his term of endearment.

A chill runs down your spine at the warning in his eye. This is not an Alpha who accepts back talk from a lowly Omega. You bite your tongue for your own safety.

“Opps,” Reid feigns surprise as he purposely drops your mug onto the ground. The already fragile porcelain breaks again when it hits the floor.

You spring from your seat and round the desk to confront him. You push on his shoulder to get him to back up so you can pick up the pieces. “Why would you do that?” You bellow at the hateful man.

Before you can get to your knees to clean up his mess, Reid grabs your wrist with bruising force. He pulls you up against him. He traps you there in his thick arms. “Do not put your hands on me! I could break a lot more than a stupid mug. Don’t forget, you’re in heat. What do you say I check the result for the office wager and see how much slick you got for me?”

His hand moves to reach up your skirt and your eyes widen in fear. You kick against him and struggle in his hold. “S-Sam!” You shout before Reid can put his hand over your mouth. Calling out for Sam was instinctive. His name left  our lips before you had a chance to think about it.

“Shit,” Reid exclaims. He pushes away from you before your shouting brings unwanted attention. “Keep your mouth shut about this,” he warns you. The threat is not in his words but in his eyes. He shoves you back against your desk and straightens his tie. He turns to leave your office. “Omega bitch,” he says under his breath as he reaches the door.

Sam is in his office. He can still smell you from all the way down the hall. He uses his pending work to distract himself from the tightness in his pants. But then your scent shifts. Sam raises from his seat as your sweet scent morphs with undertones of fear. Sam rushes into the hallway and storms toward to your office.

He was halfway there when he hears you cry his name. The pleading sound in your voice makes his blood run cold. He sprints rest of the way. But Sam stops in is tracks when he sees Mr. Reid leaving your office and closing the door behind him.

Your scent is all over him. “What were you doing in there?” Sam puffs out his chest. That is not the question he wanted to ask. He wanted to ask if you let the other Alpha put his greedy hands on you. But, this is a professional environment and felt that question would be inappropriate.

“I stopped in for directions to your office, Sam. You do know there is an Omega in heat behind that door, don’t you?” The disgust is evident in Reid’s voice.

“She is not your concern,” Sam says with finality.

“Look, you know I respect the work your family does. And in any other situation, I’d get on board with whatever project the Winchesters tackle next. But you can’t expect me to work for a company that hires Omegas. Omegas belong in the bedroom, not the workplace. You knot them, you don’t add them to the payroll. Have your father call me when he’s ready to be serious. The next time I fly out for an interview, you better have a serious offer to put on the table. I came here as a curtesy to your family. But this was a waste of my time.” Reid looks back at your closed door. “That one is trouble. I’d get rid of her before her heat makes an unsuspecting Alpha do something that could get him in trouble.”

Sam steps in closer to get in the other Alpha’s face. Even though he is a few inches shorter, Sam radiates intimidation. “Excuse me?”

Reid doesn’t take Sam’s bait. “Oh, I get it.” He smiles at the younger man. “You like the little bitch. You want my advice? Save yourself a lawsuit and fire her. That way, you can stick your knot in her without her claiming a ‘hostile work environment’.  She can’t sue you for workplace sexual harassment if she doesn’t work here,” Reid shrugs.

Sam nods and pretends to contemplate things for a moment. Before Reid has time to react, Sam lunges forward and wraps his fingers around the older man’s throat. Sam snarls as he pushes Reid into the nearest wall. The drywall nearly cracks under the force of his shove. Reid has size and strength over Sam but it is no match for pent up Alpha’s fury. Sam’s determined grip refuses to relent. His fingers bruise into the arrogant man’s neck as he holds him against the wall with seemingly no effort.

“The only reason you are not dead right now, is because of her. I know she’d be pissed if I walk into her office covered in your blood,” Sam informs the Alpha with a low growl. “I can smell her on you. I know you touched her. I know you touched my Omega.”

“She was asking for it! No Omega would come into work while in heat if she wasn’t looking for a knot,” Reid’s defends himself.

“Did you knot her?” Sam asked with barely restrained ferocity.

“No!” Reid tries pushing Sam away but Sam’s rage is making his strength unparalleled.

“But you touched her.” It is not a question.

“I know you Winchesters are old fashioned but get a grip, boy! She’s not even claimed! She’s fair game until someone asserts their ownership. So, claim her or get the fuck off me!”

Sam smiles a joyless grin. He leans in close and speaks in a low tone. “Every night I want you to thank your lucky stars that you touched my Omega in her workplace. If we were anywhere else and she wasn’t around, I would rip your throat out with my teeth. I can assure you that my Omega, or any Omega, would never ‘ask for it’, especially from a fucker like you. If I ever see you again, I promise you that I will taste your blood and watch you bleed out. You have sixty seconds to get out of my building.” Sam spits his venomous words and he releases the larger Alpha. Sam smirks as what looks like fear flashes across Reid’s face.

“You are insane! Don’t think I won’t tell your father about your little stunt,” Reid says as he rubs his bruising throat.

“Forty-eight seconds. Do you want to stay and chat about my father or do you want to keep your all your extremities?” Sam gives the man a simple ultimatum.

Without another word, Reid scurries away. He knows better than to test the younger Alpha. He knows this is no idle threat. 

Once Reid is out of sight, Sam turns around and now realizes that he had an audience for the entire exchange. The department heads had heard the commotion and came to see the show.

“I am sorry to have wasted your time today. Mr. Reid and I had come to the agreement that he is not the right fit for this company.” Sam says as he straightens his jacket. He can see his employees staring at him in unsettled confusion. “I’ll bring in doughnuts for the entire office on Monday as an apology for making you come all the way in for no reason. You are free to go. Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” Sam bribes his subordinates to leave quickly and quietly. They obey.

Sam doesn’t wait another moment before he slips into your office without knocking. You jump at the intrusion but settle in an instant when you see it is only Sam. You are sitting on the ground among the broken glass.

“I broke it again,” you say as you push around the broken pieces with your finger. “I’m sorry. I can only imagine how much time it took you to put it all back together.” You voice is quiet and solemn.

“You broke it? Are you sure it wasn’t that asshole Reid who broke it?” Sam asks as he crouches in front of you.

You look up at him in surprise. “I-Is he-”

“He’s gone. He won’t be back.” Sam assures you. He sees you sigh with relief and he mirrors your action as the fear drifts out of your scent. His relief is cut short when he sees the beginnings of a bruise forming on your wrist. He has to bite back his impulse to follow Reid out and rip him to shreds. He bruised Sam’s Omega. He will pay for that. But right now, that is not what you need. “Why are you covering for him?”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you a man as distinguished as Daniel Reid broke my mug just to be a petty asshole.” You look back down at the broken pieces.

“Hey,” Sam hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look up at him. “I’ll always believe you. You can tell me anything.” You almost do not recognize his soft tone. His fingers trace along your jaw until he is cupping your cheek.

“Alpha,” you whisper as you nuzzle into his hand. Having Sam so close to you makes you forget all about your would-be attacker. All your thoughts are drowned out by his intoxicating presence.

Sam reaches his other hand out to cup our other cheek but you flinch away from him. You finally remember where you are and who you are. You can’t have him kiss you. If he kisses you, there is no coming back from that. You will be his. But you aren’t ready for that. You like your life the way it is. You like doing your own thing. Every Omega you know loses their independence the moment they fall in with an Alpha. You aren’t ready to give that up.

Unfortunately, your body and your mind have separate plans of action. Your body rejects your mind’s resistance. You double over in pain as the muscles in your lower stomach contract in protest. Sam grips your shoulders and pulls you up against him. You bury yourself in his arms thinking that his soothing scent will settle you. Except, it has the opposite effect.

You skin becomes sticky with sweat and you whine at the pain growing inside you. You start to claw at his chest as your core throbs for attention.

“We’re not doing this here. This isn’t what you want. Settle down, Omega.” Sam swallows his basic instincts. The Alpha inside him is screaming at him to bend you over your desk and take you right here, right now. But, he conjures enough restraint to hold back. 

You moan as he calls you by your title. It feels so right coming from his mouth. “Please, Alpha. I need it,” you shift in his lap to wrap your legs around his waist. “Just once, it hurts so bad.” 

You don’t know where these needy pleas are coming from. But being wrapped in his scent has eliminated your ability to care. Apparently, you are not above begging for it. You never thought you would be this type of girl. When your heat dies down, you will be very embarrassed by your actions. But for now, you have no plans of slowing down.

“I know it hurts. But, I wouldn’t be able to only do it once. If we did this, it wouldn’t be a onetime thing. It wouldn’t be a quickie on your desk. You are mine. I take everything or I take nothing. And, you asked me to keep my distance. I will respect that.” Sam maintains his resolve. Even as he watches you pull up our flowy skirt to expose your slick covered panties, he remains firm.

“Please, Alpha!” you beg completely ignoring his efforts of restraint.

Sam growls as he hooks his arms under your knees and hoists you both off the ground. He sits you on the desk and makes sure you are stable before he pulls himself away from your grabby hands.

Sam digs through your purse to find your phone. He doesn’t trust himself to drive you home without giving in. He plans on making you call Charlie to come get you. The idea of sending his Omega off in the peak of her heat physically pains him. But he can’t let himself give into temptation, not if you are not ready.

Sam finds your phone but something else catches his attention first. It is a bright pink business cared with thick black lettering. The words written make his bones chill.

Carmen’s Alpha by the Hour

Sam crumples the paper in his hand as he turns back to you. The restraint that once strained his eyes is now replaced with unabashed fire. He strides back over to you and you instinctively open your legs do he can stand between them.

He puts is hand in your hair and pulls your head back. “Is this what you were going to do if let you go home without me? Were you going to let some random Alpha knot what’s mine? Were you going to let another Alpha touch what belongs to me? You are mine to take care of!” Sam’s hand pushes up your skirt so he can cup you mound. You are utterly soaked with slick. Sam growls against your neck as his fingers play with the mess between your legs. “Mine,” he says to reassure himself.

You didn’t know Charlie had slipped the card into your bag. So, you have no idea what he is talking about. But, you are too lost in your own need to care. His fingers are so close to giving in that you cannot focus on a word he is saying. You roll your hips against his hand, looking for that friction he refuses to give. In this moment, he is not your boss and you are not his employee. His is an Alpha and you are an Omega. Nothing else matters.

Sam takes his hand out from under your skirt. He puts that hand on your hip to keep you still. He looks into your eyes for a brief moment. You don’t have to say a word. The desperate tears that pool in your eyes says enough.

Sam kisses you. His soft lips are hardened with hunger. There are no remnants of the kind and gentle man that stayed late to fix your mug. The tongue forcing its way into your mouth is rough and dominant. The hand in your hair and the hand on your hip grip you like a vice as he pulls you closer against his firm body.

Your lungs scream for air but you do nothing to break the kiss. You let the Alpha steal your every breath. As if Sam can sense the burning in your empty chest, he pulls away from you.

You whimper at the loss of his lips. Sam wipes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth but smiles to himself. He likes seeing his Omega all dolled up for work. But he much prefers the deshelled and strung out looking Omega before him.

You open your legs a little wider and arch you back. Your chest heaves as you regain your breath and yet you show him you are ready for more.

“I told you, we are not doing this here,” Sam reminds you as he steps back. The little pout that distorts your features makes Sam want to bite that bratty lip until it bleeds. But he doesn’t, that can wait.

Sam lunges forward and throws you over his shoulder. He leaves your purse, your phone, and your keys behind. He even leaves the broken pieces of your mug on the ground.

Sam carries you out of the building like a caveman dragging his wench back to his den. His behaviour is not that of a boss walking his employee to her car. Luckily, everyone else had cleared out of the office. So, no one can see the primal glint in their superior’s eye. But even if the building was swimming with personnel, Sam would not change a thing. You are his and he doesn’t care who knows it. In fact, he’ll make damn sure the whole world knows it by the end of the end of the night.

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Smiling as you stood up, you made your way over to your phone, swiping through your songs, trying to find something fitting your mood that evening as you got dressed. Dean was taking you out for dinner, for your anniversary, and you were in a great mood.

Finding one of your favorite songs, you pressed play, the melodic tunes of the Backstreet Boys soon filling your room. The Backstreet boys had been your guilty pleasure in high school, and even to this day you loved playing their songs when you needed a lift.

Smiling as you pulled out the only dress you had, you began singing along to the song, amazed at how well it seemed to fit your love for Dean.

I promise you

From the bottom of my heart

I will love you til death do us part

I promise you

As a lover and a friend

I will love you like I'll never love again

With everything I am

So lost in singing along with the song, you didn’t hear the door open as you lathered lotion over your legs. “Y/N, Backstreet boys? Again?” Dean teased as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him.

“Dean,” you pouted. “It’s the perfect song for today. Just try to listen to something besides classic rock occasionally.”

Rolling his eyes, he stayed silent, pressing a kiss to your cheek before pulling out his nicer button down shirt, dressing up for your dinner. Slipping on your black bra, you began singing along once again, turning to catch Dean’s gaze on your every move.

I see you look at me When you think I'm not aware You're searching for clues Of just how deep my feelings are How do you prove the sky is blue The ocean's wide All I know is what I feel When I look into your eyes

Striding back over to you, he wrapped you in his arms, gently swaying to the music, him only in his jeans, you in your panties and bra. It made the moment all the more intimate as the two of you swayed across the privacy of your bedroom, Dean’s emerald eyes shining with nothing but love for you. “Dean, aren't’ we going to be late?” You asked him, but he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I’d rather hold my wife in my arms, in the privacy of our room, dancing to her favorite cheesy boy band then sit in some stuffy restaurant,” he insisted, surprising you as he twirled you around the room. “Especially when she’s dressed like this.”

“Dean, you’re such a goof,” you teased him, as his hands slid down your back, cupping your scantily clad bottom.

“But that’s why you love me,” he answered quickly, pulling you tighter against him. “And this just might become my favorite song.”

“Why?” You asked as he moved his hips with yours.

“Because you love it,” he told you. “But also because it seems to mirror my feelings, almost perfectly. Y/N, I’m never good with words. But I love you more than I ever thought possible, and being here with you now, makes me fall even deeper into love with you.”

“Dean,” you sighed, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “I love you too.”

“That’s all you can say?” He exclaimed in pretend shock. “I just lay my heart out there, and you just come back with those three simple words.”

“Well, it was four. Unless you count your name, then five. But what else can I say? I married you, didn’t I? I’m dancing here, in my underwear, in your arms, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Dean’s gaze darkened as he stared down at you, before his foot got caught in the towel laying on the floor. Squealing as you felt him tip forward, you couldn’t stop either of your movements as you fell backwards, onto the bed, Dean on top of you.

Both of you laughing hysterically, Dean rolled to his side, pulling you tight up against him. “Now this is the perfect way to spend our anniversary,” he said, and you had to agree with him. There was no other place you would rather be.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @colette2537 @crusadedean @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @msimpala67 @lenaabs @love-charmer-sketch @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @thesaneone @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester