Chapter 6
"Get his body to Stark and Banner," Fury ordered, deep frown lines crossing into his prematurely old face. Clint moved first, closing Buddy's eyes before slinging one of his arms over his own shoulder and carrying the body as easily as a rag doll.
Fury turned to Natasha and Bucky. "Get yourselves treated for shock. Agent Hill too," he said calmly, scraping his heels on the ground on his way out. Natasha took a shaky, wide-eyed breath before following him. Bucky was alone.
"Buck?"
Steve leaned against the threshold of the door, wincing as he still held the melting ice pack to his head. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, coming over and squeezing the other man's hand.
He shook his head. "Nothing Stevie," he muttered, pulling away.
"Bucky?"
~
"Tell me something Stark," Fury said through gritted teeth. "First of all, patience oh great director of mine. Second of all, what the hell did you do to my body?"
Stark looked like something out of a horror movie; he was quite literally elbows deep into the bloody mass of what was once Buddy Howell.
"The arteries and blood vessels are all shot to hell, like they were being torn apart from the inside out. Our boy here was sick for a long time, but something must have triggered it.
"Something like?"
"Shock," Banner's voice came from behind Tony, studying yet more charts on a clipboard. "Or any kind of stress for the matter. Something set your guy off."
Fury frowned. Turning to Coulson, he said, "Pull the tapes from earlier. I want EVERYONE in my office. Nothing's going to get past six and a half pairs of eyes."
~
Fury took his place behind his desk, flanked on either side by Agents Hill and Coulson. Natasha and Clint sat on top of the desk to Fury's right, while Steve and Bucky took the chairs. All watched the screen with the same scrutiny and intensity as a cat watching a mouse scurry around.
They hadn't gotten very far into the tapes when the door slammed open.
"Director Fury, what the hell happened to my informant?! I said you could question him, not murder the man," Detective Wilson wasted no time. He was a hardened, no-nonsense narcotics cop with a past.
"Sam, calm down," Steve said evenly. "Fuck off Rogers," he said quickly, eyes darting around the room. Bucky stood up quickly, a snarl on his lips. Steve pulled him down. "It's fine Buck, he's just upset."
"What the hell is this, a tea party?"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "We're trying to find Buddy's killer. Stark thinks he might be on the tapes. Why don't you join us?"
Sam sat down, almost too calmly. "On your left," Steve said, noting the reflexes with which Sam had caught the pen thrown at him by Clint, who feigned innocence. Sam scowled, but there was a twinkle in his eye that showed his humorous side.
"Can we get back to work please, it's tough watching these by myself with my one eye," Fury snapped.
It wasn't long until Bucky shot up abruptly, stiffening. "Buck?" Steve reached a hand out to stroke the man's arm.
"Pause the damn video," was all Bucky said. He got up and pointed at a form on the screen. "See anyone familiar?"
Fury swore.
Punching the buttons on his phone with unnecessary force he growled, "I want Alexander Pierce in my office yesterday." He slammed the phone down with so much force that the table shook.