#Nano Brows Brooklyn

[newsonline1]

Eyebrow Treatments Brooklyn | Ombre Powder Nano Brows

Transform your look with expert lip treatments, ombre eyebrows, ombre brows, ombre powder brows, Nano Brows, and other eyebrow treatments in Brooklyn. Achieve flawless beauty today.

[crewhonk]

Atlas: Eight

ENDGAME SPOILERS

In which Steve has to make a decision-- staying here with you and his family, or going home to Peggy Carter

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Steve has the best friends and girlfriend in the world who support each other until the end of days

Words: 3K

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader

Hi! I saw that ur Endgame requests were open so I was thinking about a Steve Rogers x reader one shot where Steve goes to the past to return the Infinity stones and reader thinks that he would stay with Peggy but then he comes back (young/actual Steve) and says something like "I want that life with you, you are my best girl" and Bucky and Sam are there crying or something? Thank u so much, love u 3000❤ —lovesteverogersbaeworld

PLEASE DO A STEVE ROGERS X READER WITG ENDGAME—chewingoffmyfoot

Steve actually spending his life with the reader after his final mission?— NONNIE

_______________________

I'm shattered porcelain,

Glued back together again

Invincible like I've never been

The trees rustled overtop of the small clearing where you, Steve, Sam, Bucky and Bruce stood. The cool air of spring hugged your shoulders and made your hair fly wildly around your face, making you spit and pull it out of you mouth within the pinch of your fingers. It hadn’t taken long for you all to set up the time portal and the computers, so the group of you stood around the steps, not knowing what exactly would be needed to say, but knowing exactly what needed to be done. 

Steve walked up to Bruce first, shaking his hand and thanking the scientist for everything he had done. The two had never been close, but after everything that had happened in the past few years, they had grown impossibly close. 

“Take care of yourself,” Steve had said, offering Bruce a waning and tired smile. Bruce only nodded and cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with the Captain for fear of losing what little control he had over his emotions in this moment. 

“You too, Cap.”

Steve walked to Sam, next, with a smile and a hug and a pat on the shoulder. Steve murmured something in Sams ear, eyes flickering up and watching you and Bucky who were facing each other and laughing about something one of the two had said. 

“Take care of them, okay? If something goes wrong, I need to know that they have someone here for them.” Steve’s voice had grown thick with the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He had always trusted Sam with every emotion that was felt, and Sam offered him a kind smile and a squeeze of the shoulder. 

“I will, Steve. They’ll be sick of my hovering soon enough. Come back though, okay? We still need you to get that apartment in Brooklyn, right? I know a great realtor who can help you.” Sam refused to show the fear that gripped his heart. Steve had always been impulsive and if Sam’s thoughts were right about what was about to happen, he would actually have to follow through with the promise. 

“I love you, Sam,” Steve said, pulling him into his arms and kissing the side of his head once more. Sam blinked, nodded and stepped to the side. 

Bucky was next. You had since backed up to lean against a tree a few feet away, picking at your broken fingernails and wincing when a broken shard tugged just the wrong way. Steve tore his gaze from you and looked at his lifetime best friend. He and Bucky had grown so much since they had found each other, but no matter the fact they were on different life paths now, Steve felt his heart swell. 

“Don’t be goin’ all soft on me now, Rogers.” Bucky’s gruff voice whispered in his ear as he felt Steve’s shoulders shake and Steve face bury itself into his shoulder. Instead of shoving him away and cracking a joke like he would have back in their ‘glory days’, Bucky pulled him closer, nuzzling his nose into the hot skin of Steve’s neck and just breathing. His fingers brushed through Steve’s hair and Steve let out a long, shaking breath. 

“Take care of her. She’ll need you and Sam if I don’t come home.” Steve whispered, the weight of the choice he was being forced to make weighing on his limbs and heart too-heavily. 

“I got her. I got Sam.” Bucky whispered, hugging Steves shoulders tighter and pulling away, letting the tears fall down his cheeks to collect in his beard. He watched as Steve’s chin wobbled and his jaw clench before he stepped back and coughed into his fist. 

“Who's got you?” Steve’s voice sounded choked. 

“Don’t you worry about me. I got a good group here— you do what you need to do, okay?” Bucky smirked and winked— it would have been a smooth move if the wink hadn’t squeezed out more tears from his red eyes. 

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, okay?” Steve forced a smile onto his face as he clasped his hands over Bucky’s biceps. Bucky rolled his eyes and squinted at the lake he could see over Steve’s shoulders as the words rolled easily off his tongue. He was better at remembering now. 

“How can I? You’re takin’ all the stupid with you.” Steve’s eyes welled with tears, and the weight of his decision increased tenfold on his body. Bucky was getting better. Sam was already so good. Now you. 

He walked over to you, now. You wiped your fingertips over your underlies to brush away any moisture from them and you looked up at Steve through your lashes, and he sucked in a breath. God, you never failed to take his breath away, even after all these years. 

“Hey, handsome.” You whispered, the lump in your throat inhibiting you from speaking much louder. He shook his head and pressed his body against yours which was still leaning against the tree. His lips were soft on your own as they worked your mouth open. He could taste the toothpaste you had used in one of the guest rooms at Peppers house, and the coffee you had stolen from him that very morning, an impish and light smile on your face. 

He pulled away shortly, aware of the audience behind him and pressed his forehead against yours, his breath fanning over your face and hands coming up to wipe the tears which had fallen from your eyes when they closed. 

“I love you.” He whispered, the bridge of his nose brushing against yours and both of your chins wobbled at the seeming finality of his statement. 

“I love you, Stevie.” You replied, kissing him briefly and pushing him off of you with a hiccup. He wiped his nose against his sleeve and tried his best to smile down at you. It looked painful. 

“They’ll take care’a you.” He murmured, grabbing your hand as you walked him to the stairs. His hands always seemed to envelop yours and you tried your best to memorize the way it felt in yours. All the callouses and cracks and the way the clean bandage on his wrist felt in comparison to his hot skin. 

“I’ll need to be the one taking care of them, are you kidding? Beevus and Butthead over there.” You looked back at Bucky and Sam who averted their gaze as soon as you caught them watching you. Steve laughed, bringing your hand to his lips once he reached the metal stairs. 

This was it. 

You let out a tiny cry when you threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder and breathing deeply. This was it. He felt his heart sink to his feet at the sound of your hopeless cry and he braced himself by putting one foot higher on the stairs to pull you closer to him. 

You wiped your face into his shoulder, and he didn’t even bother to chastise you for wiping your nose in the soft cotton of his shirt. You held his jaw in your hands and placed on more long, innocent kiss on his mouth before leaning into his ear and whispering;

“Say hi to Peggy for me, okay?” 

He pulled away sharply, brows furrowed and thick lips parted in confusion. You only chuckled and pulled away, pushing him up on the step and backing up to stand at the desk beside Bruce. 

“You’ve never been good at keeping secrets, Steven.” You said a smile on your face. You were happy for him— he was finally going o have his happy ending. 

“’S true.” Bucky piped up and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close and squeezing your arm for reassurance. Steve’s heart fluttered in his chest at the action, and he squeezed his fist

“How long will this take?” Sam asked as he looked warily over to Bruce. 

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? About five seconds. Okay, Cap. Whenever you’re ready.”

Steve, not trusting his voice, turned and climbed up the stairs, bending over to pick up Mjolnir and pressing the button on his arm. The nano suit climbed over his body like a parasite and Steve felt as if he very suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

He turned back to you now— his beautiful family all smiling with nothing but support and happiness for his actions in their faces. Sam walked to stand on the other side of you and wrapped his arm around your waist, looking over your head to wink at Bucky while you watched him for the very last seconds you would see him. 

“Ready, Steve?” Bruce said, prepping whichever switches he needed and looking up to see Steve almost sobbing on the stage. Steve could only nod before looking once more at his best friends and just as he felt his body shrink to an impossible size, saw your fingers raise in a simple wave and let out one ugly sob. 

___________________________

Steve was gone. The Time Stage was empty and the world suddenly seemed a lot colder— a lot less colourful. The birds seemed too loud, and the lake seemed too far away and the canopy of branches above your head seemed too low— too close. Your legs gave out almost immediately, Bucky catching you and falling to his knees to cradle you to his chest. You curled up into Bucky’s neck, and let out one, loud ugly cry before sobbing silently into Bucky’s jacket. He only could attempt to hush your cries, and almost immediately, both Sam and Bruce knew something was very, very wrong. 

“Okay,” Bruce’s voice shook. “Bringing him back in three, two, one.” His thick green pointer finger pressed the call back button and he looked up hopefully to the place where Steve was supposed to return. 

Instead of seeing a satisfied Steve, nothing greeted him. No lights, no cheers, no optimistic smiles, just silence. 

“Bruce where is he?” Sam shouted, storming over to Bruce and trying to read the calculations on the screen. Both you and Bucky shook with grief for your lost love. 

“I don’t know he missed his time stamp, let me try to get him back.” Bruce rushed, typing hurriedly into the keyboard and praying to whatever Gods were out there that this would work. 

“Fucking do it!” Sam’s voice was filled with aggression, and he refused to cry. He couldn’t. Not now. 

“Three, two—“

“Fuck the countdown!” Sam screamed, shoving Bruce to the side and slamming his fist on the button. You and Bucky refused to look up, knowing that Steve wouldn’t be there when you did. There was a flash of bright light, and a crash, and the sound of Sam sighing and Bruce swearing. 

That’s when you felt a warm body kneel down next to yours. Felt a warm hand on the small of your back and another brush the hair away from your face which was still on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky jolted and jumped, leaving you alone and confused and curled up on yourself. 

It wasn’t until you looked up that Bucky was laying ontop of someone, laughing and crying and kicking up leaves and dirt as the two men tumbled down the slight incline. 

“You fucking asshole!” Bucky cried through his tears and laughter, sitting up from his place on Steves' chest and punching his shoulder. “You scared the shit outta us!”

Steve only laughed sheepishly and hummed as Bucky bent over and placed one sloppy kiss on his forehead before climbing off of him and offering his hand to help the blond up. 

You stood on shaking legs, confused and upset and relieved beyond words. Steve was there, looking over Bucky’s should and staring into your bared soul. It was a long pause of silence before you rushed to him, almost tripping into his arms and crying out his name into his shoulder. 

“You weren’t supposed to come back!” You cried, tears soaking the collar of his shirt. Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tight against him— his super soldier strength almost crushing the air from your lungs. “You asshole you were supposed to be happy with Peggy! You were supposed to stay and grow old and start a family!” You continued, pulling him closer and lifting yourself to wrap your legs around his waist. He breathed out a moan and coaxed your head from his shoulder. 

The look he saw in your eyes took his breath away. It had been the same excited fire he saw when you had first met— the same look that he hadn’t seen in five whole years. He surged forward, crashing his lips to yours in a kiss full of breath and teeth and tongue. 

____________

“You upset I came back to you?” He crooned after pulling away, squeezing your waist. 

“I could never be— I thought you would stay with Peggy, though?” You said, your voice heavy with exhaustion and thick with the lump in your throat you just couldn’t seem to shake. The sheet was barely covering your naked bodies— there just for formality rather than necessity. Not like the nights on the run all those years ago when you needed to worry about Natasha or Sam barging into the hotel room. “Get a house and start a family and grow old.” 

“I was going to.” He admitted, fingers drawing patterns over your bare shoulders and smiling into your hair when you shuddered. “But I saw Peggy in her office, and I didn’t feel the same way I thought I would. I expected to feel whole, I think. Feel at home. Didn’t realize until I knocked on her door that you and Sam and Buck gave me that feeling.”

“Did you say ‘hi’?” You whispered, kissing the bruises you had left on his collar bone. 

“I did. We cried when we saw each other— she was cautious at first, but when I proved it was me we cried for hours.” He said, clearing his throat and pulling you closer. “I explained everything, and she got mad at me for being in her timeline. She wasn’t my Peggy though— not the one that I went into the ice for.”

You just hummed and continued drawing patterns on his scarred chest. 

“I told her I was there for our date, and she smiled and closed the blinds and put on ‘It’s Been a Long, Long Time’ and then we danced. Told her about you too. She seems to like you— said you seemed like a ‘brave young woman, one I would want to have to guard my back’.” You laughed at his poor attempt at a British accent. How he had survived in the war when he went undercover you didn’t know. 

“Don’t laugh!” He smiled and rolling over, fingers dancing across your waist and laughing along with the peels of giggles that filled the room. He kissed you soundly and you immediately softened under him, sighing blissfully when he licked into your mouth. 

“I got my dance with her, and now I can get a house, and get married and grow old with you.” He whispered against your lips and your breath caught in your throat, tears falling from your eyes and kissing him so softly. 

“You’re my girl, Y/N. You’re my partner in crime and my best friend and my place in time is beside you.” He whispered, his voice seeming to echo around the room and vibrate the walls. He reached over to his jacket and pulled something from his pocket. 

It was a simple gold band— classic with one small diamond in the centre that glinted in the yellow light provided by the lamp. You sat up fully, pulled quickly to straddle Steve as he wrapped his legs around your butt, yours over his thighs and sheets pooled around both of your hips. 

“It’s why I was late— I had to go back to ’33 for this guy. It was my Ma’s— stole it off my own dresser.” You whimpered, looking at him with wide eyes which made his heart tumble. 

“Marry me, Y/N. Make me the happiest version of myself.” He whispered, holding the ring up and glancing at you with the most hopeful eyes. Tears streamed easily down your face, and you placed your shaking hands over your mouth, crying out and muffling the sound by pressing your hands hard against your face. 

“Is that a yes?” Steve’s voice trembled and he tried his damned best to stop his heart from climbing its way up into his throat. 

“I— yeah. Yeah, I’ll marry you. I’ll marry the shit outta you.” You laughed, rolling forward and pressing him to the bed, straddling his waist and planting your hands on either side of his head and pressing quick kisses all over his face. He giggled loudly and you squared when he surged forward and rolled you onto your back. 

He opened his fist and pinched the vintage gold band from his palm, taking your hand and sliding it onto your left ring finger. 

“One request.” You smiled, brushing the back of your knuckle over his cheek. It had grown prickly in the passing days since Tony and Natasha’s funeral.

“What’s that?” He asked, smiling down at you. He brushed your hair out of your face and placed his palm on the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the dark marks he had placed in the centre of your throat. 

“Can you grow the beard back?” You whispered, lips quirking up on one side of your mouth. 

“Anything for my darling wife.”

[marquiswrites]

Silk and Steel Ch 23

AO3 Link

Master List

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes, Original Female Character/MC, Steve Rogers

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1026

Warnings:  Mentions of brainwashing, Mentions of past torture

Author’s Notes: Sad sad day, my vacation has truly come to an end and I am back at work, but on the upside, it means back to our regularly scheduled updates! I am so happy that everyone enjoyed the little snippet of backstory from our MC and Bucky's past, we'll start seeing more and more of them as we dip further into the rabbit hole. 

Summary:   Bucky regains consciousness after his fight with Druid and Shaman, finding himself caught back up in Hydra's web.

Chapter 23: The Nightmare

The memories were ones that had played through his dreams more than once since she had come back into his life. Little things, things he had once hardly given a second thought in the face of regaining the memories he had of Steve and Brooklyn, and everything he was before the Soldier. Buried among thoughts and memories of death that plagued him with each new memory regained.

The Soldier’s memories were always ones that he had tried to push away. 

But the smile… that damned smile had replayed through his head a hundred times since the very moment he had seen it once more. 

Steve had asked about how he had known her, but it was easy to brush it off. She obviously didn’t remember everything. Flashes of nightmares that he had been the cause of. That was all she had of a time she was better off forgetting. 

And now he might have lost her before ever really knowing her... 

Bucky woke slowly. Trying to shake off the thoughts before they tumbled him back into oblivion. Every muscle in his body aching, his veins still thrumming with the power she had forcibly coursed through him. It had been stupid to imagine that anything Hydra had created could be so entirely innocent as she had once appeared.

She was a weapon. The same as him. 

But at least she didn’t have blood on her hands. Not yet. Bucky intended to make sure that it would stay that way for as long as possible. Twitching against the bonds that kept him held tightly in place. 

The chair. 

He grit his teeth against the wash of panic. Waking nightmares of pain flashing across his vision, muscles jumping at the memory of shocks, the echoes of his own screams ringing through his ears. 

And then the softest brush of fingers across his jaw dragging him back to the present. Soothing. The smallest hint of his own cologne wafting through the air. Helping to ground him further. It was an antique cologne, something from before the war. The one thing that he ever really splurged from after Steve dragged him back into his life. And it certainly wasn’t something he was expecting to catch a whiff of here. 

His eyes flying open once more. Trying to find the source. Seeing nothing before him. 

“Behind you, Soldat.” Her accent was thicker. Alien in its harshness. 

“I am not the Soldier any longer.” He snarled, trying to turn his head enough to see her. Barely catching sight out of the corner of his eye. She had changed. Her outfit more severe, her expression too dour for one nicknamed Sunshine by all those who knew her. 

His heart pounding in his chest at the sight of the Hydra pin upon her breast. 

“You have always been my Soldat.” She whispered softly, leaning closer into his line of vision. A wry smile playing on her lips. “As I have always been my father’s. The Princess of Hydra. Even more than Hale’s little girl, Ruby.”

“Wh-”

“A failed experiment, by all accounts. Though still too young for the Heads to be entirely certain.” She chuckled coldly, the sound making his skin crawl. 

“This isn’t you.” Bucky almost pleaded, his brow knitting together as he watched her walk around the room. “I know what they did, but you can fight it. You just have to fight it, please.”

There was a subtle pause in your movements. A blank expression. And hope flared hard in Bucky’s chest. 

He couldn’t help it. “Fight it… Do not Move. Do not open the door. You will be safe… Doll… Fight. Remember. Please.”

The pause lingered a moment longer before her gaze turned to Bucky. Her eyes glazing over. 

Only to be replaced with a scowl. “There is no fighting what I am, Soldat. Nor what you helped me to become.” Chuckling darkly once more as she leaned in closer to him. Nails digging into his wrists, metal and flesh both, with a power that she shouldn’t have been able to muster. With the strength of a Winter Soldier. “Or do you not remember holding me down while they experimented on me? While they washed away everything that I was, carving apart my soul until I fit what they needed of me... And did the same to my brother beside me.“ 

Bucky felt something inside of him crack. Threatening to shatter under the truth of everything she said. Of the despair hidden behind the malice. “Of course I remember… I… There is so much that I regret. So much of my time as the Winter Soldier…”

“Regret does not give us back our childhood, Soldat.” She sighed, shaking her head. Pulling back from Bucky once more. “Father intends to wipe you clean again. Return you to what you were… If I were you, I would suggest calling your friends for an extraction. Leave all this behind. Leave me behind, and forget, as I tried to...”

Bucky strained against the binds, trying to reach out for her as she started to walk away. Growling as the metal around him groaned at the pressure. It was meant to keep him still during the moments where he could remember enough to fight. 

Watching as she disappeared, each step stealing a little more hope. The slamming of the door feeling as if it were the final nail in the coffin.

“Bucky!” The comms crackled to life once more, making Bucky jump where he sat. Glancing around, only to catch a glint of light on his metal arm. 

Her Comms nanos, wrapped in an almost invisible bracelet around his wrist. Right where she had been holding it. Bucky felt his throat go dry. “Yeah Stevie. I’m here.”

“Bucky it’s been almost forty eight hours, you never checked in. The only communication we had was from Druid, telling us that the mission was a failure. We’re gearing up for extraction, but it might get messy...”

“Do it.”

“And what about Druid?” Bucky could hear the hesitation in Steve’s voice. The unspoken question. 

“I’m getting her out of here, one way or another.” He wouldn’t fail her again.  

[fatandnerdy30]

Little Orphan Spider 8

The night called to the teen, and he was going to answer it. Running to his window, he slipped his slippers off. "Hey, Ms. Friday?" The teen whispered Can you please unlock the windows? It's time for a little 'teenage rebellion'," Peter said with a smirk.

"Of course, Peter," Friday whispered back, making the boy laugh a little. "Thanks, Ms. Friday. I'll let you know when I'm back, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer and crawled up to the opening and slipped out, freezing. "Holy shit this is high," he whispered, terrified. "It's okay, it's okay, just gotta get to my suit, then I can web my way outta here...." He stared at the city streets, the cars seeming like they were miles below him, the car horns not even sounding from where he stood. The lights around him left the boy vulnerable to the guards and the cameras, so he had to be quick. So, taking a deep breath, he began his descent. Slowly he began to crawl down the glass, feeling his microscopic hairs sticking as he made his way. He was angry that he couldn't even bring his web shooters. "Why didn't I take the elevator?" he asked himself, shimmying into a shadowed corner to catch his breath. He was halfway there.Just a little more...he made the mistake of looking down and, even though now the cars were closer, they were still pretty far. "Why does he have to have such bad taste?" He made his way down, finding the vent that led to the bathroom. "Ms. Friday, it's just Peter," he whispered as he loosened the vent, waiting for an alarm, but none came. "Thank you," he sighed. "You're welcome Peter. But, I must say I had emergency services numbers on standby. If you do that again, I will have to let Boss know." "I know, but that won't happen again, okay?" He shimmied inside the vent and reached in, feeling his suit and he grabbed it with a sigh. It was still there. "I'll see you later, Ms. Friday." He shoved his Uncle's pajama's into the vent after folding them. The boy put his web shooters on his wrists and sighed at the familiar feeling. Now he was ready to do what a spidey does. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Spider-Man is on patrol," Natasha said from the doorway of the living room. Instantly the team got to their feet. "How do you want to go about this?" Clint asked, grabbing an arrow. "One on one, or as a team?" Tony frowned. "No, not as a team. Fury doesn't want him dead. He just wants him on the team. I don't care about his identity right now, no matter what Fury says. I just want him on the damn team. I've seen the things that guy can do." Clint raised his hand at this point, getting everyone's attention. "I heard his voice, and I think you're wrong about his age, Tony," the archer said, brows furrowed. Steve looked up and nodded. "I have to agree with Clint. That night you sent me out to find him, he was crying, and when he spoke, his voice sounded young...like, teenager young." Tony's face went white and he brought his hand up. Now he felt like shit for hitting the guy-no kid- with his blasters. "Okay, so at least we think we know his age, approximately, maybe. We can work with that, but for know, try and talk him into at least joining us on missions. Got it?" The team nodded then looked at one another. "Who's going?" they asked, almost in unison. "I'll go," Bruce said suddenly from the doorway. Tony shook his head. "No, we just said we can't kill this kid. We need him alive, and you're not the best when it comes to that when you get angry." "Then I'll go with him," Natasha got up, slipping a knife into a pocket. "I'll keep him calm, and besides, he's the best talker out of all of us." Bruce nodded with a smile. "No Hulking out, promise. I just want to meet the kid is all." "Okay, but the rest of us will be on stand-by. Let's go." Tony tapped his chest, the nano-bots building the suit on him as he walked, covering him like a second skin, his face being covered last before he took off. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Martin Li sat in his office doing the last of his paperwork, when hw could have sworn he'd heard a voice whispering. Furrowing his brows, he sat up and looked around, even moving the curtains. No on was in the room with him. "Martin Li...." The voice was back! Suddenly, his head started splitting and he cried out. Not again! He whimpered from the pain, searching his desk for the pain pills his doctor had given him. He found them and opened the bottle when he felt a sudden jolt come from his legs. Looking down, the group home caretaker saw his pant legs suddenly going an odd white color, and a strange sensation, like sparks running up his legs came from his feet, then traveled up his legs and to the rest of his body. He groaned and noticed his hands were changing a dark, inky black and watched with a scared face as the color crept closer and closer to his face. The man tried to scream, but suddenly, he was in a world of black, falling unconscious. Mr. Martin Li was gone for now. In his office sat a man who looked like a photo negative, a smirk on his face. Now he could get some things done. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter was in the middle of stopping a mugging, when suddenly his senses went haywire and he looked around. What was that? He shot his webbing at the mugger, and delivered the bag back to the woman who sat on the curb watching him with wide eyes. "Th-thank you!" she said, smiling. She was cute. "You're welcome, Ma'am!" Peter said, in a deep voice, saluting her, copying Captain America. "Just keeping the streets safe. Take care!" He shot a web and was out of the area in seconds, looking back to see the woman give the mugger a kick before the police showed up. "That was harsh," he winced. "What was with that voice?" Ned's voice came from his ear, his snickering in the background. "What!? I have to make it seem like I'm older, or else the public isn't gonna take me seriously. Stop laughing!" Peter fumed, his voice breaking a few times. "I'm sorry, it's just you sounded like one of those macho G.I.John cartoons." "Ha-ha. Hey, my senses went crazy before, as if my life were in danger, but there wasn't anything around. Anything on the scanners?" Peter shot another web off, disconnecting with a flip to attach to another building. "Nothing...wait, there is. It's another drug bust, but...oh shit, those weapons are back, Peter." Peter felt his stomach drop. The last time he'd seen those weapons, people died. "Okay. I'll go and check it out. Hack a camera and tell me what's going on." "Got it. The drug bust is going down on one-hundred-fiftieth and eighty-fifth street. Be careful, Spider." "Thanks, chair guy. I'll let you know when I get there." Peter was silent after that, listening for the sound of sirens. There were a lot tonight, but there was one going in the direction he was going. He aimed to go the way they were, following the police until a flash of red caught his attention and he balked as Ms. Romanoff sped up to stay under him, Mr. Barton riding behind her, his arrows trained on him. "Oh come on! Not this again! I'm the good guy!" He changed his trajectory, but it did no good when his senses went crazy again and he winced when a high pitched sound rang and messed him up enough for the archer to hit his webbing with an arrow and Peter went tumbling through the air, landing on the ground and rolling to a stop. "Unggh....Gonna feel that in the morning," the teen groaned, holding his side and his head. "Spider-Man?" Peter's head shot up and he found himself staring directly at Dr. Banner, who smiled and waved a little. "Hi, Spider-Man...my name's Bruce. I was sent here to talk to you." Another police car passed, making all four people watch it. "We ain't got time fuh that," the teen said in a deep Brooklyn accent. "We got weapons, bad ones, up on eighty-fifth street. Dat's whea I was headin' before you clowns knocked me outta da sky." Peter stood, wincing when he put his full weight on his leg, his senses still ringing. "If you ain't got nuttin' betta ta do,  then leave me to mah work." He lifted an arm, when suddenly a knife was pressed to his back. Looking back, he saw Ms. Romanoff holding it there, a deadly look on her face. "We were sent here to ask you to join the avengers. If you don't want to, we'll have to force you." "Tony didn't say that!" Bruce argued, and the woman shrugged. "I'm improvising. So, you gonna join us? Stark doesn't care about your identity, as long as we know you're on our side." Peter sighed. "I've always been on your side. I beat da bad guys, don't I?" He shook his head. "I'll tell ya what. Help me take this drug ring down, and you've gotta deal." He held one hand out in front of him and the other behind him. Natasha didn't remove the knife, but took the red clad hand. "Deal." WIthdrawing the knife, she hopped back on the bike. "Which way?" "This way. Yo, Bannah, you need a lift?" Peter turned to the doctor, who shook his head. "No, I think I'll sit this one out, thanks anyway. I don't wanna cause anything more." He laughed and walked away, towards Stark Tower. "You lead," Clint said, pointing his hand out. Peter nodded once and stuck a hand out, web shooting from his wrist and he propelled forward. "Peter this is so cool," Ned's voice came over the device in his ear. "You're teaming up with the Avengers! Does this mean I'm an Avenger, being your guy in the chair?" "I don't know," Peter responded snappily. The one thing he didn't want to do had happened. He was going to become an Avenger....so that meant that Fury was most likely going to get his number. How was he going to explain why his phone went off whenever everyone else's did? Unless he had Ned give Fury his number, who then would tell Peter. But, the teen didn't think the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D. would like that very much. How was this night going to get any worse? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By Mr. Stark being at the drug ring, that's how. Peter groaned as he landed on a telephone pole, looking down at the billionaire while Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barton pulled up. "Hey Tony. What's up?" Natasha clicked a button and her helmet disappeared. "These guys had weapons that were made by my company," Tony sighed. "We stopped making them years ago, but these assholes got a hold of them and mixed them with Chitauri parts to make them even more powerful. Who knows how many are out there, or how they got a hold of these. I thought my company destroyed any and all weapons we made." He sighed and looked up, jumping a bit when he spotted Spider-Man sitting on a telephone pole. "Oh, welcome, Spider-Man, glad you could make it." "Stark," Peter greeted, deepening his voice even more. He had to make a voice changer in his suit. "What's with the team up?" Mr. Stark motioned between Peter and the two assassins. "We made a deal with him. We help him solve this, he becomes an honorary Avenger," Natasha sent him a sly smile. Peter had to smile He knew a way out. "And, it looks like ya didn't get ta help me. Too bad, so sad. Maybe next time!" He quickly jumped and shot a web to a nearby building and disappeared. "Why are you letting him get away?" Tony asked, eyes wide. Fury is going to kill him... "Relax," Clint said with a grin. "We know what we're doing. Where's he going, Nat?" The woman pulled out a handheld device and pulled up the map. "West," was all she said and looked at Tony, as he clapped and smiled. "We got him. And of course, that's my technology, so thank me." Without giving the two a chance to respond, he quickly suited up and blasted out of there. "I'm going to look for more of these weapons. See you later." "What a show-off," Clint sneered. "Yeah, but you know we all love him." The man smiled and nodded. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Peter's senses were going a mile a minute. It felt like someone was following him, but every time he checked, there was no one there. He was heading back to Stark Tower when suddenly he remembered, he had to leave his suit in an alley way for the night. He really didn't want to, but maybe he could find an old abandoned building. That's when he saw the piers in the distance and smiled. He could leave it under the docks! Wait, no, then it would reek of fish...He knew he couldn't bring it to his room....Ned! "Hey, chair guy," Peter asked into the ear device. "All ears, Spider." "Do you think I could leave the suit at your place? Because I can't bring it with me to the tower, too many security guards and stuff." "Really? I'd be happy to help, Pete." Thank God for his best friend. "Okay, I'll be reaching your place in about five minutes. Wanna come over tomorrow?" "Peter...you just made my lifetime." Peter just laughed as he rounded the corner, landing on Ned's window, only for his friend to throw it open and pull the other into a hug. "I think I love you," Ned cried. "That's nice, Ned....but, let me get the suit off before you soak it." The other boy nodded and apologized, handing Peter some clothes he kept there for sleep-overs. "When can I come? Will I get to meet the Avengers? Is Tony Stark nice? Does Black Widow have a boyfriend?" Peter laughed at his friend's questions. "Calm down. I'll call you when I ask Mr. Stark, okay? And, don't ask Ms. Romanoff anything like that, okay? I like you the way you are, all limbs intact." They laughed as Peter got changed. "Okay, I gotta get back See you tomorrow." With that, Peter left and shot a web. But, soon after, he noticed Ms. Romanoff watching the front of Ned's house, flipping a knife in her hand. How did she know he was there? He had to wonder that as he made his way back to the tower, making sure to stay out of the light.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 18

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. You visit an old, dangerous person, knowing full well that you might not come out of the confrontation alive. Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of: past torture, death, blood, weapons. Allusions to PTSD. Word Count: ~4,704 A/N: Not dead, I promise. Finally out of school, though.

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Bucky’s smile was melancholy, too, the destruction of the city a fresh horror in his mind, along with the fear of losing you. Again.

“That’s… that’s good,” he said finally, looking up at you with what could only be adoration.

Your smile turned a little lighter- a little more genuine- and you nodded. “Yeah. I think so, too.”

Bucky was quiet next to you as you walked down the street. He hadn’t talked since you got on the boat to Japan, having long since realized there wasn’t a point in trying to talk you out of your latest endeavor.

Not that you blamed him. Your idea would almost definitely end with you and Bucky being killed or heavily wounded. Still, your conscience didn’t let you sit still after what you’d remembered a few days ago.

A small clearing. Cherry trees blossoming, petals bright even in the gloom of early night. Blood seeping into cherry wood floors. Two smiling faces looking up at you in black and white. Flashing claws of bone. Bucky’s pained groan and steely gaze.

Between the tiny glimpses and uneasy feeling in your gut you’d long suspected you’d done something as the Soldiers, but then you’d woken up in a cold sweat a few weeks ago and told Bucky everything you could before your mind lost the memories again.

The next two weeks had been spent yelling and fighting and eventually you put your foot down, saying you were going to apologize to Logan face to face, regardless of the possible outcomes (most of which, if you were being honest with yourself, entailed ending up in a pool of your own blood).

Bucky twitched as someone turned onto the small street you were walking down, jarring you back into the present. The area was so low-tech that you hadn’t bothered with the nano skin, relying on clothes and sunglasses to keep your enhancements hidden. You had a sinking feeling that trying to hide your true identities would only incense Logan further, and you needed every advantage you could get if you wanted more than a snowball’s chance in hell of getting out.

You reached out for Bucky’s hand nearly without thinking, the action subconscious at this point.

“Why’s he gotta live in the middle of nowhere?” Bucky muttered as soon as the civilian was out of earshot. He was still as annoyed about the whole affair as he had been the entire last two days.

You glanced at Bucky for only a second then quickly returned to scanning the area for threats. “Can you really imagine Logan living in the middle of a busy city?” you asked quietly. Bucky only huffed out an annoyed sigh but all that did was make your lips quirk up in a smirk. “‘Sides, this works out better for us anyway.”

“We stick out like sore thumbs,” Bucky countered, annoyance clear as day in his tone.

You shrugged, gently jostling your intertwined hands. “Maybe. I figure an area as pretty as this gets tourists, even if it is a bit rural.”

Bucky’s steel blue eyes finally turned on you, disbelief barely noticeable in the set of his jaw and the lines around his eyes. “They don’t even have electricity out here, Doll.”

You bit back a smirk. “That’s why it took us so long to find ‘im, though. Maybe he’s got the right idea.”

“You’d go insane within the week,” Bucky said flatly, obviously guessing where you were going with that line of thought.

You fought the urge to pout and gently nudged him with your shoulder instead. “Not if I set up next to a river and made a hydro-electric dam for myself. Or finally finished my portable nuclear reactor.”

Bucky’s gaze turned worried and perhaps a shade frantic. “Please don’t do either of those things. I’m beggin’ ya.”

The Brooklyn accent slipped in whenever you caught him off guard and you couldn’t help but smile whenever it returned with a vengeance like that. “Fine, fine. This is our turn, anyhow. Gotta be on alert now.”

Bucky’s face turned stony again and you missed the light in his eyes that had been there just a moment ago as he stared down the narrow dirt road. He was nervous, but you knew his fear wasn’t for his own well being. It was reserved for you.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze which he returned. In perfect synchronization you both stepped forward and began walking down the road.

The farther you walked, the jumpier you and Bucky became. Even with your backscatter vision and Bucky’s enhanced hearing you were loath to underestimate the short, angry man.

The cabin came into vision without incident, though, and a quick backscatter peek inside told you he wasn’t home.

You stopped at the edge of the clearing, skin prickling uncomfortably as your scattered memories overlaid with the present. The house that Logan had built was eerily similar to the one he’d shared with his wife (Itsu. Japanese. Married Logan in 1946. Skilled swordswoman. Pregnant. Clean kill; slash to the throat and stomach. Weapon: Katana.).

You shook the clinical thoughts from your head and tugged Bucky to a stop. He looked down at you warily. “Not here,” you said, answering his unasked question. He nodded, but didn’t relax at all.

“How long do we wait?” he asked eyes darting around the clearing.

You frowned and tried to ground yourself more firmly in the present by leaning against Bucky, who stilled marginally at the contact. “As long as it takes,” you whispered as the image of a happy, young Japanese woman in 40′s clothing flashed in your mind.

The first sign was Bucky tensing next to you, going so still he could be mistaken for a statue. You flicked your eyes to backscatter without hesitation, eyelids closed as you searched every direction, not that you had to look very hard.

Logan was frozen maybe two hundred feet down the path, nostrils flaring and brows drawing low over his eyes.

What surprised you, though, was the metal attached brutally to his skeleton. You’d heard the rumors and scavenged what information you could on the Weapon X program (only to shut it down if you found any traces of it, not that you’d been successful in either capacity). Still, seeing it in person- well, mostly in person- was something else entirely.

You tensed and stood slowly. Bucky was already on his feet and staring down the road at exactly where Logan was, though you knew vision of him would still be blocked by the trees. Any second now Logan would charge through the trees and rip you and Bucky to shreds with those wicked metal-covered claws.

Logan drew a deep breath and you knew if he was any harrier than he already was you’d be able to see his hair stand on end. As it was, he was even tenser than Bucky.

The two of you had barely been able to run away last time and that was before he’d been infused with adamantium. You’d both had a few upgrades between now and 1946, but you doubted that’d mean much in the end.

When he stepped forward calmly, almost serenely, you couldn’t help the surprise that leapt to your face. The sudden change in expression made Bucky glance down at you and, while he looked confused by your reaction, he didn’t relax at all.

In fact, his confused frown only turned into a glower once Logan walked into view.

He paused as soon as he laid eyes on the two of you, dark brown eyes assessing and less hostile than you’d expected. He was maybe a hundred feet/thirty meters away, so close you could reach him in a second if you used your cybernetics.

He looked you and Bucky up and down and you fought the urge to flinch under his stare. The last time you’d seen him he was trying to kill you, and you couldn’t even blame him. You’d just murdered his wife and unborn child, after all.

The silence stretched on for what felt like a small eternity. You’d had so many things you’d wanted to say the moment you saw him, but everything seemed inadequate now that you were looking at him, the weight of your sins bearing down on you like a physical weight.

Then, “Guess I owe Romanoff ten bucks.”

Your eyes widened in shock and even Bucky shifted next to you. You opened your mouth to ask... something, anything... but Logan was already turning away from you and walking towards the house. The old fashioned doors didn’t even have a lock; he merely slid the bamboo doors open and stepped inside, pausing only long enough to take his shoes off.

You and Bucky stared after him in stunned surprise, not expecting that sort of reaction in a hundred years.

“You comin’ in or what?” came a gruff, half-yelled question from inside the house.

Bucky looked at you, uncertainty narrowing his eyes and making that ever-present tension return twofold.

“I doubt you two came from god-knows-where just to sit out there and gawk at my house like a coupla idiots.” He sounded even more annoyed this time.

Your legs moved of their own accord, not having listen to any conscious command from your mind. The house loomed over you as you walked closer but you didn’t dare stop now, afraid you’d turn and run if you stopped to think for a moment.

Bucky was silent but you knew he was following you; he’d already agreed to do this with you, after all, no matter what came.

The house was traditional in nearly every sense of the word. The flats you’d been wearing came off instantly (you felt more comfortable without shoes on, anyway) and Bucky’s muddy, scuffed boots followed a half second later. You used backscatter to find Logan and tilted your head in the right direction so Bucky would know where to go.

You’d half expected to find a TV or refrigerator or microwave, but every modern appliance was missing. The sitting room Logan was in had a tatami mat floor with a single low, long table and a few pillows for sitting. The floor and table were nice, obviously hand-crafted with care, but the pillows were old and raggedy.

Logan was already sitting at the far end of the table, looking almost lazy as he leaned against it, though his eyes were sharply assessing as you and Bucky appeared in the doorway.

“So? Who am I talking to? The Barneses or the Winter Soldiers?” he asked, tone carefully neutral, almost disinterested.

You winced and opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. All of those hours spent agonizing over what you’d say, how you’d apologize, and now that you were finally here-

Logan scoffed and reached into a small box on the table. Bucky shuffled, obviously expecting a weapon, but your hand on his arm stilled him instantly.

“Guess that answers that,” he said flatly. Logan pulled out a long cigar and cut it with the tip of a metal-covered claw, which peeked out of the skin between his knuckles and flashed ominously in the low light. The sharp edge disappeared back into his skin, though, and you and Bucky both relaxed ever so slightly. “Sit down, assholes,” he said gruffly as he placed the cigar between his lips and lit it with a match from a book he pulled from his pocket.

You and Bucky exchanged a glance. You could tell from a split-second assessment that he was still unsure about how this would end. But... if Logan was going to attack he would have by now... right?

A second later you stepped forward, tugging a reluctant Bucky with you. You sat at the opposite end of the table from Logan, who was watching the two of you closely.

You settled down on a lumpy pillow and Bucky sat down next to you, forgoing a pillow in lieu of being as close to you as possible. You could tell he didn’t like having his back to a door, but the walls were made of paper and thin wood- it wasn’t like you couldn’t make an escape in any direction if the need arose.

The silence stretched on again, with neither you nor Bucky able to come up with a coherent sentence. Logan puffed quietly at his cigar, seemingly content to let the two of you stew in silence.

“Y’know, if I got cell service out here I woulda called Rogers and Romanoff by now.”

You and Bucky froze again, eyes widening slightly. It was Bucky who managed to talk first. “You’ve been- They contacted you?” he asked, not quite able to keep the fear out of his voice.

Logan let out a long exhale and you fought the urge to wrinkle your nose at the smoke. “They thought you two might come knockin’. Guess they know you better‘n ya think.” That made both you and Bucky clam up, unsure of what to say next. This wasn’t going how either of you thought it would. When it was clear neither of you would speak any time soon, Logan let out an annoyed huff. “I don’t have enough saké for this...” he muttered, running a rough hand down his face. When he looked at you again, his eyes were a bit harder. “And I don’t got all day, either. Speak up or I’m kickin’ you out.”

You frowned and reached for Bucky’s hand, needing the comfort it provided to get you through what you were about to say. He met you halfway and gave you a gentle squeeze that bolstered you enough that you were able to find the courage to speak, though your gaze was fixed on the table.

“How much do you know?” you asked, almost fearing the answer.

Logan puffed on his cigar and took his time responding. “Natasha and Rogers handed me a file. Told me everything they knew, which I’m guessing isn’t even the half of it. Still, there were enough damn nightmares in that folder that, for the first time in seventy years, I didn’t wanna kill ya.” Your and Bucky’s gazes flicked to him then, surprise lining your features. Logan took one look at you and scoffed. “Don’t go gettin’ all doe eyed, ya damn idiots. You’re way too old and badass to be lookin’ like that.”

Your mouth twitched up in a sort of aborted smile, but your frown returned with a vengeance. “We’re sorry. I know words can never make up for what we did... what I did-” Bucky made a distressed, angry noise beside you, but your gaze was glued to Logan. “-But we are.” You scooted away from Bucky and got on your knees, then slowly lowered your forehead to the ground, hands set on either side of your head. A second later you felt Bucky shift next to you and you could glimpse him mirroring your position out of the corner of your eye. Lowering his guard like this in front of Logan must have been killing him, but he stayed doggedly in place.

For a second, there was only the sound of Logan smoking his cigar, but you didn’t have long to wait. “Dogeza? Really? Get up, you fucking idiots,” he sounded irritated and conflicted.

You raised your head at the same time Bucky did and immediately gravitated back towards his side. His arm was around your waist a second later and you practically melted into his side.

Logan was glaring at the two of you and you fought the urge to grab Bucky and run. He seemed to take a moment to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. “I know what happened wasn’t your damn fault. That much was clear.” Another pause, then, “A lot of shit happened after that night. The kid lived, then tried to kill me at least a half dozen times. I got experimented on. Fell in love a few times. Got married to a woman who wanted to kill me. Joined the X-Men and dealt with their bullshit for a few decades...” he trailed off, annoyance obviously growing by the second. He blinked once or twice and seemed to refocus on you and Bucky. “Point is, between what’s happened to me and what Rogers and Natasha told me... I ain’t gonna hold it against you.”

You knew you were staring at Logan, slack-jawed, but you couldn’t help it. Never in a million years did you expect this response and- “But how, Logan? I killed her and she-”

Logan’s face turned thunderous. “If you could go back right now- to that night- would you do it again? Slit her throat with her own katana and leave her to die in a pool of her own blood?”

You flinched as if struck by a physical blow, memories flashing behind your eyes. “No-” your voice failed for a second and you had to swallow thickly. “No, I wouldn’t- I don’t want to-” Your words failed you again and you barely registered Bucky pulling you to his chest.

Logan’s face returned to something a little more neutral. If you weren’t mistaken, his deep brown eyes were a little sad. “Yeah, well, there’s the answer, right? Wasn’t you; wasn’t your choice.”

Bucky was running his hands gently over your arms, an obvious attempt to ground and comfort you. Your eyes, however, were fixed on Logan’s deceptively relaxed form. “But I did it,” you breathed. Now that Logan had all but forgiven you, you found yourself at a loss. Why didn’t he hate you? He should. You should have just stopped talking and taken what he gave you, but you almost needed his hate. You deserved it.

“Yeah, you did.” His voice was carefully neutral, not accusatory, just stating a fact.

“Then why?” Your voice was strained, your mind unable to process what was happening.

Logan sighed, wafting a large plume of smoke into the room. “Nah, we’re not gonna talk each other in circles all night. I’ve said my piece and you’ve said yours.” You stared at him, wanting to say more, but he continued speaking before you could. “How’d you find me? More of your tech mumbo jumbo?” 

The sudden change of subject had you reeling and Bucky recovered before you.

“Wade,” he said hoarsely.

Logan looked truly annoyed now. “Wade? As in Wade Wilson?” he growled.

Bucky’s smile was more of a grimace. “The one and only.”

“And how the hell does that bastard know where I am?” He looked peeved at the very prospect.

You shrugged. “Dunno. I asked if he’d seen you around lately and he said he’d- and I quote- ‘ask Tin Man to call in a favor with Wheels’.“

Logan groaned, took the cigar from his mouth with one hand, and ran his other hand down his face in exasperation. “I hate that kid. Doesn’t know when to shut up... S’pose he could be worse, though...” The look on Logan’s face was a little haunted and you wondered, momentarily, what Wade had done to him. When you’d talked to him a few weeks ago Wade had been polite to a fault, if not a bit weird. You’d had trouble keeping up with whatever he was talking about, but the moment you’d asked for help locating Logan he’d said “Whatever it takes to help move the plot along! You haven’t had a new chapter in weeks!” You’d stared at him as though he’d grown a second head, but he got on his cell phone and within ten minutes you had Logan’s location. One long drive and a nauseating boat ride later and you were in Japan.

Logan groaned and nearly bit his cigar in half. “Shit, I need to move. I just finished the damn tatami, too.” He ran a hand over the mats covering the floor, scowling at them as though it was somehow the floor’s fault.

You grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t know how else to find you.“

Logan waved a hand, dismissing your apology. “It’s done now. Didn’t plan on stayin’ here forever anyway.” He reached the end of his cigar and snubbed the end against his palm, wincing only slightly before placing the small, gently-smoking end on the table.

You shifted nervously, unsure of what to do now that you’d more or less gotten your thoughts and feelings across to Logan. Bucky ended up deciding for you and stood, extending a hand to help you up once he was on his feet. You stared at the paper wall, trying your best to avoid Logan’s assessing gaze and Bucky’s concerned looks. “We’ll... be on our way, then. We don’t want to impose any more than we already have. Goodbye, Logan.” You turned to leave with Bucky following closely behind, but Logan’s gruff voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait.”

This was it. This was when he unsheathed those deadly sharp claws and tried to kill both of you. You tensed and turned around slowly, not wanting to startle Logan into attacking any sooner than necessary.

“I’m sorry.” Logan’s face was twisted into a grimace, as though the words hurt him to say.

Those two words shocked you so thoroughly that your arms dropped limply to your side and you felt your shoulders slump. You knew your mouth was open and your eyes were wide but you couldn’t do anything about that just then.

Logan’s dark eyes met yours and you could tell it was him that was having trouble keeping eye contact now. “I shoulda looked for you. Both of you.” He glanced up at Bucky, who shifted restlessly next to you, likely caught even more off guard by Logan’s declaration than you, as they’d never really gotten along. “By the time Dugan told me what happened, Rogers had already put the plane in the ice. I knew it was suspicious that we hadn’t found either of you, even if it was in the middle of nowhere. I was one’a the only people who probably coulda found ya, and I didn’t. Didn’t even try. I shoulda-” he growled, and reached into the cigar box, prepping his next cigar in a flash. Barely a few seconds later he had the fat cigar in his mouth, scowl lining his brow.

“Thanks for saying that, Logan, but it ain’t nobody’s fault but Hydra’s.” Bucky’s voice was the softest you’d ever heard it when speaking to Logan and the shorter man glared at him, probably feeling as awkward as Bucky had felt at Logan’s words.

“And Logan?” you said with a small frown.

“Mm?” Logan grunted, brown eyes flicking back to your face, brow quirked ever-so-slightly in question.

“If you ever want to talk- or need some backup- you got two people who understand and will be more than willing to help.” You tried to give him what you hoped was a kind smile, though happy expressions were hard to make unless it was Bucky eliciting them.

“Not that we’re exactly the picture of mental health,” Bucky added dryly.

That, at least, drew an amused snort from Logan. “You and me both, pal,” he said gruffly. “So, what? You gonna give me some piece of crap cellphone with your number in it, too?” When you raised an eyebrow Logan rummaged around in one of his jacket’s pockets, eventually managing to extricate an ancient flip phone. He held it in the air and waved it once before shoving it back in his pocket. “Rogers gave it to me in case I managed to get a lead on you two.”

That made you frown and you fought the urge to fry it to pieces; that would almost definitely lead to a fight between you and Logan. However, you had a hunch that you were eager to prove. “But you’re not gonna tell them anything.”

Logan sighed out a puff of smoke. “Nope.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side and regarded Logan with a quizzical expression. “Why not?”

It was only after he took another puff of his cigar and blew it into the air that he responded. “Because you don’t wanna be found.”

You and Bucky stared at him for a moment then exchanged disbelieving glances before returning your gazes to him. “Just like that?” you asked with a small frown. It was too good to be true. All of this was. Neither of you were that lucky. Hell, Logan wasn’t that lucky.

Logan’s gaze turned hard. “Guess there is one more part. If you two go off the rails again it’ll be my duty to stop you.”

You felt your blood run cold at the thought. As far as you knew, the number of people who could stop you and Bucky could be counted on your hands at this point. One of them was definitely Logan.

It made sense, though. He was honorable. By letting you go now he was at least partially responsible for anything you did from this point onward. If Hydra got a hold of you again or if both of you regressed... he’d hunt you down.

“That’s fair,” you said after a pregnant pause, mouth in a hard, grim line. Bucky shifted restlessly next to you, upset at the prospect but knowing that, ultimately, it was probably for the best. “I don’t think either of us would want-” you bit your lip, eyes once again falling to the mats.

“If we become the Soldiers again, that’s for the best,” Bucky said quietly. You glanced at him, but he was staring Logan dead in the eyes, jaw set grimly.

Logan nodded once to him before his eyes flicked to you, features softening a bit. “Go on, then. I’d offer you a room fro the night, but I know you’re itching to get outta here.” The words could have been harsh, but they were said with just a bit too much fondness for them to come off that way.

“Thank you, Logan,” you said earnestly. Bucky nodded his agreement, blue-grey eyes tumultuous.

He barked out a laugh. “That’s not my real name, y’know.”

You frowned, not in on the joke that had made him laugh. “I wasn’t aware ‘Logan’ was a false name.”

Logan’s grin turned a little smug. “Name’s James.”

That drew a startled laugh out of you and even a glance at Bucky revealed his lip shad turned up in a begrudging smile. “‘Course it is...” he muttered, not quite managing to sound annoyed.

Your laughs quieted after a moment, leaving an uncomfortable silence in their wake. Unspoken comments about how rare laughs came these days and how young you sounded when you did hung stale in the air between you, but you put on a small smile. “See you ‘round, Jimmy,” you said, tossing him a wink you hoped was playful and not flirty before turning and heading for the door.

Bucky snorted and you could hear Logan groan. The guys didn’t speak for a second (you were sure you’d be able to hear them through the paper-thin walls if they had), but after a pause, Logan grumbled a “See you, bub,” which was the closest you’d ever heard Logan get to sounding fond when it came to Bucky.

Another pause, then, “Be safe, old man.”

An annoyed grumble. “I only got thirty five years on ya, ya fucking shithead.”

You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. That was so close to how you remembered their interactions being back in the day that it nearly shocked you back seventy years. The sarcastic response you were half expecting didn’t come, however, and Bucky was beside you a moment later, taking his time to lace up his boots carefully while you waited just outside the door, watching the area for any threats.

“Ready to go?” he asked a moment later as he stepped up beside you. His blue-grey eyes searched your face for any flicker of emotion that would set off warning bells, but for the first time in a long time, your head wasn’t a complete mess. Or, at least, you had one burden among hundreds taken from your shoulders.

“Yeah, Buck. Let’s go home.”

Next Chapter

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