Chapter 7
Three weeks away from work has not been fun. SHIELD’s technology cut my healing process in half, so instead of another few weeks stuck in my apartment, wanting to tear my hair out, I’m back to work. Remarkably, I’m feeling back to my old self already.
Bucky came to visit when he wasn’t busy with work, even helping me cook on some occasions. Towards the end of my recovery, his work picked up, but I was able to do everything myself with ease, so I didn’t mind.
I had Claire, too. She visited on separate occasions, with no knowledge of Bucky’s involvement. We enjoyed evenings filled with junk food and junk TV together, and once I was able to walk far enough without pain, Claire and I would take walks through Central Park. It was refreshing just to be outdoors, not surrounded by the same four walls.
Walking into the building was normal at first. I marched through the corridors, taking the elevator up to the office where my desk was situated, the pain in my ribs completely gone. As I walk around the corner that carries through to my desk, I can see a few people gathering around it. Claire is the first that I see, wearing her hair down today. Her long, dark braids almost reach to her waist. Evan and Obie from Engineering accompany her, and an assortment of gifts have been placed on my desk.
Evan and Obie sit at the desks opposite Claire and I. The four of us have often gone for lunch together in the canteen, or to grab a coffee mid-way through the day, but we’ve only ever spent time together during work. The two men are always bantering in the office, which makes those stressful work days a little bit brighter. Evan is slender, with blonde, messy hair that sits just past his ears, and always clean shaven. His cheeks are always rosy, due to his pale complexion, non-dependant on the weather. Obie is fairly muscular, with deep, olive skin and hair tightly braided in a fancy pattern. He’s spoken previously on how he taught his partner how to do it for him, which they do an exceptional job of every time.
“Welcome back!” The three of them cheer, almost in unison, and I can’t help but smile at the greeting. I walk towards them, setting my bag down on my chair. They greet me with hugs, without squeezing too tightly. I feel undeserving of such an entrance.
“Guys, you didn’t need to do all of this.” I say, laughing in between words. I feel my watch vibrate on my wrist, but choose to ignore it, planning to check it later when I’ve settled back in.
“Hey, it's not every day you get called back to the field and end up in hospital. So, shut it.” Claire jumps in. I can always count on her to make me laugh.
“Alright, alright. Thank you guys, really.” I say, taking a seat as they do, continuing to chat for a little while as I rummage through the assortments of presents, and also set up my laptop. My watch vibrates again in mid conversation, and I press the button on the side without looking to turn it off. My first ten minutes back at work and I’m already in demand. I think I deserve a quiet first day back to help ease myself back into the swing of things.
“Wait, Claire said ‘back to the field’...” Obie says, looking up from his computer screen. “You were Operations?”
“I was, yeah, but I got a transfer to Communications.”
“You’re kidding.” Obie replies, sounding shocked. “I tried out for Operations, that shit was hard work to get into. You must have been pretty damn good.”
A nervous huff of laughter escapes me.
“Uh…”
“You’re okay though, right? That’s the main thing, even if you let the bastard crack your ribs.” Evan interjects as he sits back at his desk, sporting a cheeky grin. He crosses one leg over the other, getting comfortable in his chair. I think he could tell that I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the conversation, so he stopped Obie from asking any more questions. He doesn’t mean any harm, he just doesn’t always know how to read a room.
“Thanks, Evan.” I smile at Evan to show my gratitude, and he reciprocates. “But give me a break, the guy was huge.” I add, sending the two of them into a bout of laughter.
After settling back into my work, checking a few emails and finally getting some caffeine into my system, I finally feel like I’m starting to catch up. As I begin another task, I feel someone tap me on the shoulder. The feeling startles me, and I turn around, faced with a person I didn’t expect to see.
“You scared me.” I whisper, letting out a breath. I hold my hand to my chest, my heart racing from the fright. I notice Evan, Obie and Claire turning their heads, the two men looking understandably more surprised than Claire by the elephant in the room. “What are you doing here?”
Bucky Barnes, towering over me as I sit at my desk. He’s swapped his biker jacket for a navy coloured peacoat, unbuttoned and collar upturned. The small marks where rain drops have soaked into the fabric suggest that he’s only recently entered the building to shelter from the rain outside. He looks down at me with soft eyes, and something immediately feels off. Showing up at my place of work is something new entirely.
“I tried to call.” He speaks with a hushed tone, knowing full well that people are staring at him. After all, what business could the Winter Soldier possibly have in a SHIELD staff office? My heart sinks, realising the reason my watch was constantly buzzing.
“Can we talk somewhere?”
“Yeah.” I nod, standing abruptly. “Come on.”
I motion for Bucky to walk with me, glancing at Claire and giving her a quick shrug. She shrugs back, and Evan and Obie turn promptly towards her, most likely to ask what the hell is going on, like Claire would have any idea.
I walk through the open plan office, Bucky following closely beside me. “You can’t just turn up here and expect people to be rational about it.” I speak quietly, so only he can hear.
“Why not?”
“Seriously? I’m surprised someone hasn’t passed out from being in the presence of an Avenger.” I quickly glance around the room to see if anyone has noticed. Not to my surprise, although some are still glued to their monitors, others are staring, whispering, and a couple of people are tapping the shoulder of the person next to them, quietly prompting them to look up.
“I’m not a damn Avenger.” Bucky huffs, his footsteps heavy behind me. Even when he’s not in uniform, he has a habit of always wearing heavy boots.
“Try telling them that.”
Reaching the nearest conference room, I knock quickly before opening the door, not really giving anyone much time to object, but luckily it’s empty. Bucky follows me in, and I hold the door for him, closing it behind us.
“Zemo escaped.” Bucky blurts out, at almost the exact moment the door closes. The way the words spilled from his mouth gave the impression it was physically hurting him to keep them in his thoughts for any longer.
“What?!”
Baron Zemo, the man who framed Bucky for the terror attack in Bucharest, where King T’Chaka of Wakanda was killed, who afterwards, infiltrated SHIELD, taking control of Bucky’s mind to use him as his puppet. He almost single-handedly disbanded the Avengers, and barely lifted a finger. Bucky has never spoken about that day to me, until now.
“Someone broke him out of the Raft.” His jaw is clenched in anger, but as I look into his eyes, I realise that he’s frightened, understandably. He knows exactly what Zemo is capable of, and I imagine that his greatest concern is where he’s headed.
“How the hell did someone get into the raft?” I ask, looking over his shoulder, out of the glass behind him. This floor has fancy meeting rooms, the ones with soundproof glass walls, but no way to conceal what’s behind them. It means that I can’t comfort Bucky in the way I would like, but he knows that, because he stands a reasonable distance away.
“Hell if I know! Steve did it, but then he went into hiding, nobody could find him. Shit, the guy could be anywhere by now.” He begins to pace around the room, a hand running through his hair as he begins to overthink. “I don’t even know why I turned up here, I just- I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”
“Hey.” I get Bucky’s attention, taking a few steps in his direction, and he turns to meet my gaze. “You need to talk to someone, I get it.” I move closer, but only a little, because I know we’re being watched, especially Bucky.
I sigh, not knowing how to say what I want to say. “Look, I’m not good with words, but these past few weeks, you’ve been here for me, basically waiting on hand and foot, which you didn’t have to do. Let me be the one to help you.”
“No, no, no.” He mumbles, a frown prominent on his face. “After everything that’s happened, I can’t drag you into this, it’s too dangerous. I’m dangerous.” He emphasises, pointing to himself, and the gesture makes my stomach turn.
It’s hard to know what to say to Bucky. He’s prone to self-deprecation, and no matter the façade he portrays, I can see right through it. I eye the office space beyond us, wanting to move even closer, only now half caring about what they see, but for Bucky’s sake, I abstain.
“I’m not scared of you, Bucky, if that’s what you’re thinking. Never have been.” I perch myself on the edge of the table, Bucky remains standing, his arms deflated at his sides. “The only thing I’m scared of isyou getting hurt.”
“I’m not scared of that.” He admits, finally taking a seat, scooting towards my edge of the table. “I’m scared of hurting my friends, hurting you.”
I swallow. Bucky’s comment makes me a little nervous. Not for the fact that he thinks he will hurt me, I can handle that. I know that if Zemo got hold of him, and Bucky’s treatment in Wakanda hasn’t worked, his actions wouldn’t be his own. I’m nervous because he’s made it clear that he cares about me, and when people care for each other, they make stupid decisions.
I know I’ve made a few, specifically remembering the decision I made to defend Grant Ward, when people were basically screaming in my face that he was Hydra. Even after we split, I stupidly still cared for him, defending him so valiantly that I subjected myself to a week of testing, just to make sure I wasn’t one of the defectors. I had colleagues I thought of as friends getting sent to prison after failing the lie detector tests, and I spent that whole week questioning whether I deserved to be in the same position. I thought meticulously over everything that I had said, or done, in the time that Grant and I were together. Did I do anything that he asked of me, accidentally aiding him with something sinister?
“I have an idea. It might make you feel better.” I say, standing up from my seat on the table top. Bucky stays quiet, waiting for me to pitch my idea.
“Train me. Make a recommendation, we have Romania as an excuse. If you can get me on the team, and anything happens, I know how you move, know how you fight, it’ll be easier to defend myself.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“It’s worked before.” I reply a little too confidently, swallowing nervously. “Back when I was in Operations, it was said that Ward was second to Romanoff. We trained together, so ninety percent of the time, I could match him hand to hand, even without weapons. I know training is different, it isn’t lethal, but it couldn’t hurt to try.” I cringe whilst speaking out loud about Ward, but if it helps me to prove my point, it will be worth it.
Bucky runs a hand over his face, faint lines starting to appear on his forehead with stress.
“I’m a lot stronger than he was. I think you forget sometimes.” Bucky says, and the way he speaks so gently, like his words could break me, makes my heart flutter. I compose myself, concealing the smile that comes from my inappropriate thoughts.
“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.”
He huffs, like he’s suppressing his laughter. I think he’s trying to be careful around the subject of Ward after my outburst several weeks ago, and isn’t in the best position to come up with a witty response.
“Alright, I’ll talk to them.” He manages a weak grin, despite the crippling anxiety he’s probably nursing, knowing Zemo is roaming free.
I smile, taking a few small steps towards the door. “We’ll catch him, Buck. I know we will.”
Bucky nods, standing tall, and suddenly he feels awfully close, so close that I can almost feel the heat radiating from his body.
“I really want to kiss you.” He admits, and I swallow the lump in my throat, my pulse racing. My eyes flicker to his mouth, imagining those long fingers of his tangled in my hair, pulling slightly to tilt my head upwards, giving him the access he needs to satisfy that craving, pressing his lips to mine.
“I was thinking the same thing.” I mumble, a much simpler telling. He takes a deep breath, which snaps me out of my trance. Both of us step away to avoid the temptation, and I suck in a breath. I chuckle, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Come on, I need to get back to work.” I reach the door, and Bucky brushes his fingers over the back of my arm, goosebumps forming in the same spot.
“Say hi to Claire for me.” He calls as we walk out the door, turning opposite ways, and I look over my shoulder. I shake my head, laughing to myself, ignoring the prying eyes around the office. Rumours would start, I know that, but I don’t care. Nobody saw anything, because nothing happened.
When I get back to my desk, Claire doesn’t even give me time to sit down before she starts asking questions.
“So, you two are on visiting terms now?” She presses, wheeling her chair over to mine. I roll my eyes, sitting in my own seat.
“He was just checking how I was. He did stop me from getting beaten to death, Claire.” I lie. He already checked multiple times in the weeks where I was ordered to rest, but for now, that wasn’t for Claire to know.
“It sounded a lot more serious than that.” Claire replies, inquisitively. She knows when I’m lying, which is exactly why she’s asking me questions. I can lie extremely well for my job, but when it comes to my friends, I may as well tell the truth from the start.
“....and asking me to help on another project.” I add, telling some of the truth, and I can see that Claire starts to get excited, so I don’t wait to elaborate. “But I can’t tell you what it is.”
“Damn it.” She whispers, snapping her fingers. I giggle at her childish gesture, swatting at her arm.
“Hey, Claire. Leave the poor woman alone.” Evan calls, as Obie and himself walk away from their desks, and I’m unsure what for.
“Maybe you should listen to Evan.” I tease her, and a devilish smile appears.
“Ha!” She exclaims, leaning forward, speaking with a hushed tone. “He’s just jealous that you’re spending time with Mr. Super Soldier.”
I laugh, unlocking my laptop. “What, is he some kind of super-fan?”
There was a pause after my question, so I turned around to see if Claire was still there. She’s just sitting there, giving me a strange look.
“Oh my god, babe.” Claire exclaims, leaning forward. “You’re oblivious, aren’t you?”
“Oblivious? To what?”
Claire swats my arm as I did to hers before.
“I mean, I didn’t even realise it until today, but that’s not the point.” She tilts her head to the small, but sweet bouquet of flowers resting on my desk. Who do you think they’re from?”
I’d assumed that the gifts were a joint effort, but maybe I was wrong. I mentally facepalm, bewildered by Claire’s theory. Honestly, I really hope she’s wrong, Evan is a good friend, we get on well, but anything additional to friendship has never crossed my mind. I’ve been… occupied elsewhere.
She’s looking at me with raised eyebrows, her face is always full of expression.
“He’s just being nice, Claire, don’t get it twisted. Anyway, you know how I feel about dating at work.” I shrug my shoulders, but the devil on Claire’s shoulder is still present.
“Girl, if you play that card any longer, people are gonna think you’re fucking the hundred-and-something year old dude who keeps checking up on you. Especially after that little fiasco.” She wiggles her finger in my face, and my eyes widen, starting to think she might be catching on.
“Claire! Don’t be ridiculous.” I laugh, half-heartedly, and I push her hand away, diverting my attention back to my laptop, nervously typing a response to an email.
“That would be a hell of a story, right?” Claire leans back in her chair, snickering at her own joke, and a wave of relief washes over me, able to relax my stiff posture. “Seriously though, how old is he?” She asks, picking at her fingernails.
“One hundred and six.” I reply, too confidently. “I think.”
“Damn…” She drags out the word, for a dramatic flair. “Well, he looks good for his age, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I roll my eyes playfully, which she seems to accept as a valid answer.
“Back to Evan. Just think about it, alright? He’s a good guy.” She smiles, rolling her chair back to her desk. I turn back to my own laptop, letting out the breath I was holding.
A new email sits at the top of my inbox, and I frown as I look at the screen, seeing that it’s from Sharon Carter.
‘Boss wants to see us in Room 3C, 1100 hrs.
Sharon.’
I huff, leaning back in my chair to read the email for a second time. I have no idea who she means by ‘boss’. Maria? Sam? I think about the conversation I had with Bucky moments ago. Has he even had time to speak to the team yet? Does he know Sharon has contacted me? Ugh, this damned room is beginning to cause more problems than I can keep up with.
I check the time, reading nine-thirty, meaning I have ninety minutes until I need to be in 3C. I lean forward, typing a short response.
‘Thanks, Sharon. I’ll be there.’
Getting involved with the Avengers side of SHIELD is proving to be much more than I bargained for, and I don’t think I will ever feel ready for anything involving these crazy, overachieving agents, some of which have superhuman abilities. I feel like a kid learning to ride a bike, but my training wheels have been removed, and I keep falling off, most recently in the form of broken ribs and a hospital bed. I sit back and shudder, trying to think of something other than that mission. I have to keep trying, even if it means falling off a few more times, eventually I’ll be riding smoothly.
After diving head first into my work, 11:00 am arrived very quickly.