hunipeye

[hunipeye]

What Remains of Winter

Read on Ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/66008359

————————————————————————————

Chapter 5

Everyone was already in the waiting room, all suited up and professional. I felt weird in my dress, not necessarily ugly, just… odd. The dress was dark grey and skintight, the neckline square and exposed my sternum. It reached just below my knees with a slit at the back for ease of movement and three quarter length sleeves that revealed my forearms. My red lip and French twisted hair might have begun to veer into rockabilly territory, but the look didn’t feel complete without it.

“Very nice!” Alexei exclaimed as I walked in, “Like pin-up model.”

“No, you can’t say things like that anymore, just tell her she looks nice,” Yelena went red in the face. Alexei, like many old men, was yet to catch up on political correctness. It only made him more endearing in my eyes.

I could hear the hum of chatter through the door. The sheer amount of people I’d have to face made my heart race and my breath quicken. Everyone else sat together, joking and laughing, waiting for the clock to strike 1:00pm and for us to walk into the conference hall. They seemed so ready, like this was second nature to them. I felt like the odd man out.

“You okay?”

I didn’t hear Bucky post up beside me, that assassin silence still wove its way into all his movements.

“It’ll be fine.”

“I asked if you were okay, not if the conference would be.”

“I’m okay. Just nervous.”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” He tilted his head back against the wall to look across at me, “You’ve got three super soldiers, a master assassin and whatever Ava is flanking you. No one’s gonna lay a hand on you.”

I shook my head, “That’s not it. I don’t want to make a fool of myself. Or any of you for that matter.”

“You couldn’t do that, not if you tried your hardest,” He nudged me with his elbow, “We already look stupid.”

Before I could shoot back a witty quip the door swung up and an attendant alerted us to the time.

I was cold from fear, rooted to the floor. Only when Bucky placed a flat palm on the small of my back did I find myself walking out the door and into the conference hall.

The flashing of cameras was blinding, I tried to keep my eyes open. I sat in the centre of a long table on a raised stage with Bucky to my right and Yelena to my left. His bionic arm radiated coldness onto me, I fought the urge to touch it.

“Thank you for coming here today. I’ll be acting as our spokesperson for this conference. We’re going to take questions one at a time, raise your hand and we’ll call on you. Thanks again.”

“How stable is The Sentry now? Do we have any reason to fear him? Should he be detained?”

I pursed my lips and refrained from mentioning how that was in fact three questions rolled into one. Bob looked over at me, scared I might shackle him up and ship him off to another cruel holding facility.

“After thorough examination from our best scientists I’m happy to report that Robert Reynolds is entirely stable and in no way is he a danger to society. He is a victim of medical malpractice, not a supervillain. We have no reason to imprison him.”

“He created the largest wave of trauma since the blip-”

I leant into the mic and forced down a scowl, “With all due respect, sir, you’ve asked three questions already and we only have so much time. Yes, the man in the blue shirt?”

“What are your intentions with this group? Is it to override the legacy of the Avengers?”

“Absolutely not. When Picasso painted ‘Guernica’ did he intend to erase the ‘Mona Lisa’? I think not. We hope to fill the hole left by the Avengers and provide protection globally.”

I could’ve sworn I saw Bucky in the corner of my eye, lowering his head in a grin at my snarky remark. Despite that, I tried to stay focused.

“The lady in the red?”

“I have a question for Yelena?” The woman called out. I sat back and let Yelena take the lead until another question was thrown my way.

“What exactly is your role in this organisation? Do you have any abilities the public should know about?”

“No sir, I don’t possess any extraordinary abilities or skills, unlike my colleagues. I’m currently acting as a liaison officer between our group here and the public-”

“Apologies to interrupt,” Bucky’s gravelly voice sounded beside me, smiling at the cameras and leaning into me to use the mic, “My colleague is far too modest. Not only is she our liaison officer, but she’s also our on-the-ground tactical field analyst.”

I fought the urge to glare at him, a surprisingly easy endeavour when he was grinning with the charm of a movie star.

“Just one extra question,” The same reporter continued, “What exactly is your group’s name?”

I was not looking forward to this one. The copyright issues surrounding the title ‘The Avengers’ had resulted in a multitude of problems beyond what I was bothered to care about.

“We will continue to use the name ‘the Avengers’. If Sam Wilson wants to make this a copyright issue, he can. I’m confident in our ability to win that case.”

The questions came in fast, the answers mostly easy. Everybody wanted to know if there was any imminent danger or a possibility of one of our own going rogue. I realised that to have the public entirely on our side we’d need more than headlines, we would need action, and that would take time.

“We’ll take one more question and then I’m afraid we’ll have to wrap it up,” I was pleased to be nearing the end of the two hour long slog. One hand shot up at the back, I called on the reporter.

“I have one,” He paused, “For the Winter Soldier.”

His voice was full of contempt, years and years of suffering wore his vocal cords down to a rasp. I attempted to discreetly look across at Bucky, his face revealed nothing.

“How do we know that he won’t do all the same shit he did before?” He continued, voice rising to a shout, “That man’s an animal. He doesn’t even control himself.”

I didn’t have to direct security to take him away, they were already on it. But he continued to scream until he had been removed from the premises, out of ear shot, “He killed my family.”

The hall was silent, everyone eagerly waiting for Bucky’s reaction, to see if he’d explode in a fit of rage. I wouldn’t give them the pleasure.

“Thank you for coming today. I hope we answered all your questions.”

Bucky was the first off the stage.

“I’m sorry.”

Bucky’s back pushed against the wall of the waiting room, sliding down, hunching over himself and apologising profusely. His breath came in shuddering gasps. The zipper of his suit was halfway down his stomach, revealing that he had clawed at his left shoulder, the skin around the prosthesis was red raw with dried blood.

“Are you alright?” My body moved on its own, running on pure instinct and adrenaline. I dropped to my knees in front of him, between his thighs and took his face in my hands.

“I’m a horrible man,” He spoke in sobs, his face wet with tears and pink from humiliation. My heart swelled as he twisted his head into the palm of my hand, his lips so close to my flesh. He was entirely docile, begging to be coddled and reassured.

“Bucky,” His name left my mouth in a gasp, “You’re so wrong, Bucky. You never see the good things.”

I laughed gently before continuing, moving my hands to his neck, “And there’s so, so many good things.”

He looked at me like a lost dog, waiting to be plucked up and carried away.

“For example,” I brought my hands into his hair, “You’re so smart. So ridiculously clever and witty. You make everyone laugh and sometimes I wonder if you even notice it.”

It was crushing to see him so defeated. I knew him to be wry and kind and all things good, not despite his past but because of it. His strength came from his ability to move forward and be a better person.

“You wore the dress.” Bucky finally spoke coherently. I could feel his right hand on my ribs, the bionic arm left limp and unused at his side as if he was scared he might lose control and crush me like a cheap toy.

“Of course I did. Do you like it?”

He threw me a wry smile, “Makes me feel young again.”

I rolled my eyes, “You’re not that old.”

“One hundred and eight years old.”

“Well, you aged well.”

“Genetics.”

I allowed myself to feel this contentment, normalcy. It was a luxury I cherished.

“How do you feel now?” I attempted to ignore how he removed his hand from my body, it felt like I lost a part of me.

“I’m alright.”

“Bucky,” I groaned, “Don’t do that to me. You’re not alright. Was it the questions? Did they upset you?”

His silence was answer enough.

“Oh, Bucky, I’m so sorry. I should’ve shut it down or sent out a list of approved questions or anything at all. I should’ve prepared for this-”

“Jesus Christ, man!”

Bucky stood and whipped me behind him in an automatic gesture of defence.

John Walker stood in the doorway, his mouth agape and his brows furrowed.

“We’re barely out of the fucking press conference, how the hell do you know there’s no cameras here? This is unprofessional as fuck.”

Bucky took a step towards him, pointing a bionic finger in his direction, “Don’t fucking shout at her.”

“I’m not shouting at her, you dense prick, I’m shouting at you.”

“Can we maybe not shout at all?” Yelena stuck her head around the doorframe, walking in like nothing happened, “You know, I think we did really well out there. Let them have their moment.”

My hands lifted into my hair, “It wasn’t a moment.”

Bucky’s body stiffened for a split second, he kept his head forward, refusing to face me.

“Let’s wrap this up,” I clapped my hands together, praying for the awkwardness to end, “Tomorrow we can unpack the conference and all the undoubtedly wonderful, complimentary articles that will be written about us.”

[hunipeye]

What Remains of Winter

————————————————————————————

Chapter 4

“Looking rough buddy,” Walker slapped Bucky square on the back, “Long night? Did you hit the town or something?”

I felt like I was watching a toddler play with a pitbull, tugging on its tail and slapping its snout, on its way to be bitten at any moment.

In fairness, Bucky looked as if he had been hit by a bus. And then another. And then a truck, for good measure. The thought that my actions had resulted in a sleepless night for him caused me immense guilt.

To my dismay, Walker caught the way my eyes were latched onto Bucky.

“Oh, I see. A little ‘work wife’ trouble?” He nudged Bucky’s bionic arm, “I get you man. The ladies are rabid for us super soldiers-”

Bucky moved so damn fast I could barely see how he gripped Walker’s throat, causing his feet to hover above the ground, paddling desperately.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

Ava snorted from some hidden nook in the common area. Yelena wasn’t so amused, “Bucky we’re all tired of him. But we still need him, just put the bastard down. Ignore him. Brush it off.”

‘Put him down’ seemed to translate into ‘throw him down’ and Bucky launched the soldier into the adjacent wall, revealing a dent as he slid to the floor.

I tried to get control on the situation before Walker decided to get a payback punch in. This room did not need to be decimated from a super soldier bitchfight.

“Time out! Jesus Christ, fucking relax,” I pressed my fingers into my temples.

“Walker,” I turned to face him, “Learn to read the room. Seriously, use your god given common sense.”

“And Bucky,” I returned to my laptop, unable to look at him, “You’re smart enough to not take the bait. So take Yelena’s advice, ignore him. The absolute last thing we need before this conference is a fight. If you two need to punch it out, do it in the gym. We built one here for a reason.”

I was too harsh on him. I knew that. And his lack of response to me confirmed it. But I wasn’t about to look like I was picking favourites. I had to treat everyone equally for fear a disgruntled super soldier might become a large-scale issue. Never mind the fact that the conference was tomorrow and any crack in our lines would be picked apart by news stations and entitled netizens.

“So what?” Walker began, “You want us to do team building or something?”

He was mocking me, trying to goad me into a fight.

“I don’t care if you ladies hold hands and sing kumbaya or if you go beat the daylights out of each other as long as it’s not here, where everything is breakable and expensive.”

The fact that I permitted a fight seemed to make it less appealing to Walker, his bristling posture resumed its normal shape.

“I was just joking, man,” He conceited.

“And joking is fine, Walker - as I'm sure you know at your big age - but just read the room.”

”God, fine. You think you’re some fucking leader-”

“Walker,” I was struggling to hold my composure, “Unlike you, I’m fully aware of my place.”

“Sure. You’re just management, act like it. Stop with this tactical field analyst bullshit and go back to your office. Fucking embarrassing.”

My skin burned with the humiliation of being called out so directly. He wanted an argument, I knew that. I knew that if I fought back I’d be falling right into his trap. But my temper was always my fatal flaw.

“Fuck you, Walker,” I moved over to him in long strikes marked by the clacking of my heels. As I reached him I realised how unimposing I appeared. I had to crane my neck to stare up at him and his super soldier shoulders were about twice the width of mine.

“You think you’re some pillar of freedom when all you really are is a Steve Rodgers fangirl who wants nothing more than to climb under his skin. That’s what’s embarrassing here.”

I left the room without seeing Walker’s reaction. The name settled in the air like dust after an explosion. Steve was a touchy topic not just for Walker but also Bucky, it was much more touchy with Bucky. It was awful but I felt worse for Bucky than Walker. He already seemed to be having a terrible day, and I made it worse. That was like second nature to me, just ruining Bucky Barnes’ day.

My office was a welcome isolation. I felt like I was miles away from the New Avengers, where I couldn’t insult and demean them. I have no excuses. At least Walker can blame his nastiness on his trauma, I was just a purebred bitch. I sat on the floor, my back pressed against the cold, flat front of my desk and my head between my knees.

“Hey.”

I didn’t need to look up to know Bucky was in my doorway.

“You okay?”

My chest rose once in a deep inhale before I looked up at him, “I should be asking you that.”

“Oh I’m fine,” He said in that joking tone that he used whenever he was anything but fine, “You’re right about Walker. Bastard really wants to fill Steve’s boots-”

”But I shouldn’t have brought him into it. It’s fucked up to use a man I don’t even know against him.”

He shrugged, “Yeah, it is.”

Weirdly enough, I appreciated the honesty.

“But it’s also fucked up for him to bite the hand that feeds him,” Bucky stayed at a distance from me, still speaking, “How long did it take you to get his new sheild?”

“That’s my job, Bucky. I’m paid to do that.”

“And he’s paid to protect you, as is Yelena and Alexei and Ava,” Finally, he crouched beside me, “As am I.”

I was able to manage a sneer, “Actually, you’re paid to protect the global population. Don’t forget that for the conference tomorrow.”

“Either way, I like to keep a special eye out for you,” He paused before continuing, “Not that you’re not competent, it’s just-”

I laughed out loud, placing a hand on his forearm.

“What?”

“Seriously?” I was unable to stop laughing, “Imagine there’s some huge global disaster, who would the average civilian want to see coming for them; me or the super soldier Sergeant Barnes?”

He tipped his head to the side, “Fair point. All I’m saying is don’t undersell yourself. And definitely don’t let Walker get on your nerves.”

“That’s rich coming from you. You choked him out about two minutes ago.”

“I don’t appreciate men who don’t pick on people their own size. It’s just… beyond rude.”

I thought back to our conversation in my apartment, “Is that part of your whole ‘passionata 1940’s gentleman’ thing?”

“You think I’m a gentleman?” I suddenly became aware of all the places our bodies touched. My knee grazed his and our shoulders were pressed together. My heart went so fast he could probably feel it through the floor like a boombox.

“After that display ‘gentle’ isn’t a word I’d assign to you,” I joked, “But you’re certainly much more kind than you seem to think.”

Bucky’s head turned, his nose was so close it could have brushed against mine and his eyes had the glazed focus of a trained sniper, “I can be gentle.”

My lips parted at his dark, velvety voice, begging for his attention. This was highly unprofessional. I was about to climb into the lap of my colleague, simultaneously jumping to the mould of ‘work wife’ that Walker assigned to me. I needed to control myself.

“How are you, Bucky? You seemed upset last night.” It was like I threw a bucket of ice water over us but it was definitely a good way to diffuse whatever was happening on the floor of my workplace. I continued, “Was it something I said?”

My eyes drifted from his face to his bionic arm, exposed in his t-shirt. I was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I felt compelled to touch it and tell him that he was beautiful.

“It’s just tough sometimes, you know?” He began, “I have this constant reminder of what happened to me - what I’ve done - attached to me at all times. I get this phantom pain where my arm should be…”

It was clearly a struggle for him to be so open with me, his trust in me made my heart swell with joy.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you on it.”

“You weren’t pushing, not at all,” Bucky sighed, exasperated and trying to find the right words to explain himself, “And it’s not like I want to hide anything, especially not from you. What I did-”

“What they made you do,” I corrected him. His eyes flashed with sadness, I felt overcome with the need to pull him into an unbearably tight hug and let him cry his feelings out.

“Whatever way it’s phrased it all means the same thing. People died because of me. I have blood on my hands.”

“I only know the Bucky that’s beside me right now. And I know that he’s nothing like that. You’re better than that,” I tried to smile, “Be proud of yourself and how far you’ve come. Seriously, it’s amazing stuff.”

He stood up and offered me his hand, “I’ll stop beating myself up if you stop underselling yourself. Is that a deal?”

I knew he was lying. Nevertheless I took his hand, nearly toppling over myself as he pulled me up with the strength of ten men.

“Yes Sergeant,” I put on a caricature of a soldier’s voice and could’ve sworn the ghost of a smile crossed his face.

Yelena was able to draw an apology out of Walker. Both Bucky and I offered the same under her watchful eye. We looked like school children being forced to admit our wrongdoings in front of a teacher.

However strange the apologies were, they were necessary. We need to be on good terms with one another for the conference tomorrow, or else it was about to go tits up.

[hunipeye]

What Remains of Winter

Read on Ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/66008359

————————————————————————————

Chapter 3

Can you see it?” Yelena tapped the tablet screen with her fingernail - painted black and chipping - impatient for a response.

It displayed a 3D scan of a building, entirely x-ray, like a blueprint. Within that diagram were a multitude of infrared figures wandering about.

“What am I looking for?” I mumbled, suddenly feeling overcome with regret for deciding to ‘bond’ with the team.

“If I tell you it defeats the purpose of our exercise.” Her strictness gave me war flashbacks to my Eastern European piano teacher of years gone by. I shuddered.

“Those are people,” I traced around the screen, feeling less than smart knowing that every other person in this room right now probably had the answer Yelena was looking for.

“Yes…” She drawled, waiting.

“I’m not sure what the point of this exercise is, Yelena.”

She ripped the tablet from my hands and pointed, frustrated, “Those yellow lines are tripwires. That red dot? A mine. Those blue squares in the corners are all security cameras,” She shoved the tablet into my lap and reclined on the couch, “And yes, those are people.”

“But what’s the point of it?”

“We think it would be beneficial for you to understand how our world works,” Ava started, “I mean, isn’t that how your Avengers worked so well? They all came from the same world, so to speak.”

”Ironman had his… What's its name, ‘Alexa’? No, ‘Siri’?” Alexei spoke with his hands, waving them about for emphasis.

“Jarvis,” Bucky clarified, leaning against the adjacent wall, watching my exercise intently.

“So you want me to do what exactly?”

“Right now? We want you to learn how to navigate this map and it’s HUD. In an ideal world we’ll never have to go into battle again and can lounge in this boujee living room forever,” Yelena grinned and stretched her arms above her head, “But we don’t live in an ideal world. So, when we inevitably do need to… defend ourselves, it’s always useful to have an extra pair of eyes and ears.”

Bucky pushed himself off the wall, striding towards us, “You don’t have to go in guns blazing, just feed us information about our surroundings. That kind of assistance is something we’re missing, you could fulfil that role-”

“Maybe,” Ava interjected, “She doesn’t seem to grasp it.”

“Yes, because this is my first time seeing anything remotely like this. I can’t just immediately become some military-level, super soldier tactician,” I retorted, my pride getting the better of me, “I’ll figure it out.”

Yelena slapped my shoulder as she left me on the parting words, “Let us know if you need help.”

“Don’t drag me into this,” Walker shouted from the other end of the room, causing Bucky’s lips to stretch into a grin.

I am a painfully proud person. I can admit that. The fear of insignificance or average-ness has me in a vice-tight grip every single day. My worth is tied to my intelligence and so, when I was faced with that tablet, I was worthless. As I sat on the floor of my living room for days on end I rotated the 3D building model. I could see each tripwire, bomb and camera but I was unable to figure out how to disarm them. Each time I tried the trap would only go off and result in the simulation restarting. My mug of coffee had gone cold hours ago and I hadn’t bothered to check the time, I knew I had spent hours pouring over this exercise just this evening. This was the longest it had ever taken me to crack an assignment. I was beyond downtrodden.

I couldn’t even Google this stuff, the internet is vast but even it doesn’t hold instructions for military-grade technology. I scowled at my phone, realising I’d have to sacrifice my pride this one time.

“I’m sorry it’s so late,” I said in lieu of a proper greeting as I opened the front door of my apartment and welcomed the Winter Soldier into my home. I tried to imagine what me just a couple months ago would have said at the thought of Bucky Barnes in her living room. She wouldn’t believe it.

“You really should be asleep,” He murmured, taking the apartment in. My new obnoxiously large salary allowed me to have an exceptionally luxurious home. I was in the penthouse of an already fancy apartment complex. The floor plan was open and the colour scheme dark in a clean, modern way.

Despite Bucky’s words, he looked like the concept of sleep was foreign to him. His hair was pulled back, half up, half down, and his eyes seemed more awake than ever.

“I can’t sleep until I figure out how to use this godforsaken thing,” I groaned, pointing to the tablet on the floor.

“Why is it over there? Is it in the naughty corner or something?” He quipped, looking over at me as if expecting laughter. I was beyond joking.

“This thing is ridiculous,” I huffed. As I bent over to pick it up I became all too aware of the loungewear I had on. My shorts rode up slightly as I bent down and my scoop neck T-shirt nearly exposed the valley of my breasts. I moved quickly, if I didn’t make a scene he wouldn’t notice, right?

”Can you explain it to me? I won’t keep you long, I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

”I have nothing but time,” His voice was flat and humourless again and I feared I had offended his vintage sensibilities.

I sat silently as I listened to him explain how each button and drop-down menu worked. We ran through half a dozen simulations until I was able to complete them without his assistance. It began to feel like a strategy game, until I realised that if I ever actually needed to use these skills I’d be in a life to death situation.

“How can you do this but not use a phone?” A warmth bloomed in my chest as I caught his mouth curling into a smile.

“That’s different”.

“How so?”

He breathes in deeply, as if getting ready for a long overdue rant, “They only need to do one thing; call. I don’t get the point of all this movie player, video game, music app nonsense.”

“So what? You think everybody ought to line up to see the talkies on the weekend and have record players in their living rooms?”

“What can I say,” Bucky’s smile didn’t break, “I’m old fashioned.”

I shrugged and pushed my chair away from the table, “Nothing wrong with that. One sec.”

I hated turning my back on him. I wanted to be able to take in every movement on his face, the ways he revealed his emotions without realising it. I slipped into my bedroom, carefully and quietly, working my plan until Doris Day sang ‘It Had to Be You’ in the speakers laced throughout my home. The elegant strings of the orchestra rose as I padded back into the living room, the tinkling keys of a piano escorted me to my seat across from Bucky.

I answered the question that hung in the air, “My grandmother was really into collecting music back in her day. I lived with her so I’d always play her records. She left her collection to me when she was placed in an old folks home.”

For a split second I feared I had revealed too much about myself. I hated when people asked about my parents for no other reason than I had no answers for them. I never truly knew them, just held onto vague memories and stories of their fairytale romance from my grandmother. That was when she could still talk. As her health deteriorated our conversations became ‘one ring on the bell for ‘yes’ and two for ‘no’’. It pained me to see her, so different from her previous self.

Thankfully Bucky said, “Can I see it?”

The thought of him in my bedroom had my knees weak, I imagined that if I tried to stand up I’d fold back in on myself like a poppet.

“Sure.”

I observed Bucky as he ran a finger along my shelves and shelves of records, moving much faster when he came into contact with the more modern stuff. There were piles and piles of records, some I had never even taken out of their sleeves before. I definitely needed to organise soon.

“She had good taste,” he turned his head back at me with a soft, nostalgic look in his eye that made me want to pounce on him.

“Yeah, she was a real classy lady. She left me, like, all her wardrobe and jewellery and stuff. That’s one of the perks of being the only grandkid, I guess.”

“Do you still have it?”

“Oh yeah. They’re all authentic so they’d probably be worth a lot to real vintage enthusiasts, but I couldn’t let them go.”

“Do you wear them at all?”

He had turned away from the records completely, his attention focused entirely on me. Those steely eyes made me feel stripped down, bare.

“I don’t have the opportunity to. They’re pretty fancy.”

“Wear one to the press conference.”

It wasn’t advice or a question, it was a statement. Somehow it didn’t make me feel demeaned or less than, I felt secure in his control.

Despite that, he continued, “I mean, if you want to-”

I tried to smile as comfortingly as possible, his face was growing flushed and nervous, “No, no. I appreciate that. I wasn’t sure what to wear anyways. That’s one less decision for me to make.”

The silence that followed felt like it lasted an hour. An hour of staring at how his chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm. How his hair fell in curtains on the sides of his face. How he flexed his left shoulder, sighing roughly.

“Does it hurt?”

I was pushing it, to ask him about his arm - and by extension his past - was a line I had yet to cross. But I had just thrown myself into it. Bucky seemed to recalibrate, change the course of where his train of thought was headed.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Is there anything that helps it?”

“No.”

“You don’t do physio or anything?”

“I don’t think many physios know how to work with what I’ve got going on.”

I tried to wrap my head around his suffering. It was beyond my comprehension. All I could say was, “I’m sorry.”

He rolled his shoulders, relieving tension, “It’s alright to ask about it”.

“No. I’m sorry that happened to you, Bucky.”

The way his expression shifted made me run hot with embarrassment. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You didn’t do it,” His voice was tried, gravelly, dismissive.

“I know, it’s just…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” He left the room in long strides. I didn’t realise I was holding my breath until I heard my front door close and was left with nothing but the music of times past sounding throughout my home.

3.5.

Bucky POV

Screams echoed throughout the hall, hitting me like a force field. I clambered to my feet and ran down the sterile, medical corridor. The lack of decoration was exactly what gave away the location; HYDRA, Siberia, Russia.

The cries continued, it sounded like a struggle was occurring, a desperate fight. I continued to run and run and run in the direction of the shrieks. The hallway felt never ending but the voice was growing closer and more hoarse and exhausted by the second.

The sight of it was enough to bring me to my knees.

Y/n forced into the Memory suppressing Machine. Her face was contorted with pain and her fist clenched so tightly I could see her nails drawing blood from her palms. I watched as the scientists stood by, ignoring me. I tried to yell at them to stop, to beg on her behalf, but no sounds followed. I attempted to rise from my knees but I was cemented to the floor, forced to watch as she writhed in pain, trying in vain to escape from HYDRA, as I once had.

She shuddered and convulsed violently, until she suddenly stilled, submitting to the pain. Beads of sweat rested on her forehead like a crown of thorns, the blood from her palms had smeared onto the arms of the chair that held her.

I tried to move to her but I was like a puppet with no master. Every effort was useless, she was theirs.

A man in a white scientist’s coat strode behind her. He lifted his arm to reveal a pistol in his hand, cocked at her head. My breaths were ragged and my failed screams turned my throat raw. I was pathetic, I couldn’t save her.

The sound of the bullet was deafening.

I screamed as I shot awake. My shirt and bed sheets were soaked through with sweat and the pillow beside me was crumpled in the vice grip of my bionic arm. For once, I felt glad to be alone. I was a danger to everyone around me without even fully comprehending it.

I took my shirt off with such vigour I could hear the seams tear. The shower head poured freezing water onto my back and I relished the shock. I wouldn’t think of them, I would focus on the water. I tried in vain to turn my brain off.

But it kept coming back to her and the way she spoke to me that evening.

She wanted to know about me. She was real and honest. Not some nagging reporter begging for a headline about the cruel Winter Soldier.

No, she wanted whatever she thought Bucky Barnes was. Not this reality of panic attacks, failed therapy appointments and showers so freezing they could be classified as self harm. A world where the night sky is nothing more than a dark ceiling without a star. I didn’t want to force this mess into her life, uproot the lifestyle she had in that pretty little apartment.

I’m a stain on everything good. Like a bad smell on polyester, impossible to get out.

A horrible man.

[hunipeye]

What Remains of Winter

Read on Ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/66008359

————————————————————————————

Chapter 2

The common area reserved for our ‘Avengerz’, as Alexei had started to call them, seemed to be deserted this early in the morning. The sun had just begun creeping into the sky and the streets of New York still slept soundly.

“Hey!”

Not everything was asleep, apparently.

Bob stumbled from his perch, tripping over his disheveled duvet and crumpled paperback book. He had taken to staying in the Watchtower, day and night.

“Hello, Bob,” I managed a small smile that quickly deteriorated at the sight of the remains of last nights take out, “You don’t have to stay here, Bob. We can find you a nice apartment within walking distance of the Watchtower, all out of our pocket.”

He lifted an arm and scratched the back of his neck, “Nah it’s fine, it’s super nice here. I mean, I’m usually not this messy, I just kinda forgot to clean and then it piled up-”

I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake, “It’s alright, Bob. Don’t worry yourself.”

“Hello!” A male voice bellowed as its owner strode into the room, arms splayed out in a homely greeting. Alexei’s rumpled sweatshirt had oily stains, faded from multiple attempts to wash them out. Despite it all he looked relatively put together, certainly better than what we started with.

“Ah!” Alexei exclaimed, taking my hand in his and walking me over to the silent, exhausted pair; Ava and Yelena, “She is here!”

“Indeed I am, Alexei.”

Compared to her father, Yelena was a supermodel. Consistently dressed well in tough leathers and clean cut pants and shirts, always made up to the nines. I felt inappropriately dressed in my typical business casual shirt and skirt combination.

“About time,” Ava muttered, throwing herself onto the plush couch in the centre of the room.

Anxiety racked my body, I suddenly felt insignificant and outnumbered. I could present the big, confident CEO persona from my Grammarly-dictated emails but in-person I had no time for tone checks or rewording. The thought of disappointing all these people who suffered so much to be here haunted me daily.

“I spoke with Mr. Barnes yesterday-”

“Jesus Christ, ‘Mr. Barnes’? What stupid corporate shit is this, dude?” Walker stomped past me, not making eye contact as he posted up behind the sofa, resting his forearms on the headrest. “Nice of you to show up, by the way. We’ve been twiddling our fucking thumbs down here while you played Soliatire on your PC in your business lady office or some shit, but damn, nice of you to lower yourself to speaking with us.”

Bob opened his mouth as if to separate himself from the disgruntled super soldier’s rant. I cut in before he could start, “Mr. Walker, I spoke with Mr. Barnes yesterday evening. He explained your concerns to me, so I’m rectifying it. Would you rather I went back up to my office or do you want me to actually make an effort and try to help?”

Bob straightened his back and finally got his piece in, “For the record, I wasn’t complaining. I really like it here.”

I appreciated his ability to lighten the mood. Or at the very least try to.

“So where is Bucky?” Yelena finally spoke, propping her left ankle onto her right knee and leaning back. Her eyeliner was artfully smudged in an effortless sort of manner but the way it complimented her face shape revealed the great care that she took in her appearance.

“Your guess is as good as mine Ms. Belova-”

”You said you spoke to him last night?” Yelena squinted her eyes at me and tilted her head ever so slightly.

“I did, about how we should move forward as a group, not his daily schedule.”

As if on cue, he entered the room. I gave him a quick, cursory scan, taking in his tied back hair, skin tight shirt and baggy pants. He returned the favour, making me feel all too aware of the way the air grazed my exposed sternum and calves.

“Well, now that everyone’s here,” I stood before the group, feeling the same all-consuming fear you get from having to present a project in highschool, “I want to begin by apologising for my absence. I’ve been made aware of the stress it’s caused among this team and it won't happen again.”

I swallowed slowly and tried to breathe before I continued, “I think the best thing we can do is a public message of sorts. Anything at all that can establish our nature as a distinct organisation, separate from the American Government, while also putting the population’s minds at ease. If you have any suggestions of what we can do I’d be more than happy to take them on and discuss them further.”

Bucky stared at me, face still blank and waiting for someone else to speak. Yelena filled the silence, “What kind of public message? A social media post? A press conference? There’s a lot of variety there. And why bother? People saw us, they saw how we saved people.”

I nodded, happy to be asked questions I actually had answers to, “Well, first of all, we can organise whatever you collectively think is the best way to address the public. If that’s a press conference, we do a press conference. Secondly, I know people saw you defend the city. But, we need to keep in mind their expectations.”

“And what are their expectations?” Walker pressed.

Everyone knew the answer to that question, yet they waited to hear me say it.

“Everyone remembers the Avengers. They expect a unified front. To have the public’s approval and trust we need to have that- you need to have that.”

I stood awkwardly as they marinated in their responsibility.

“I think a press conference would work,” Bucky started, “But can we guarantee that we’ll be able to get both the Government and the public on our side?”

I shrugged, “That’s up to you all. Can you play happy family in front of a camera?”

”Don’t try and separate yourself from us again,” Bucky interjected. Yelena nodded, not looking away from me, “You’ll be at that press conference and you’ll answer dumb questions like the rest of us.”

I battled the urge to snap back at them, “Sure, that’s fine. I will be there. But that attitude of ‘dumb questions’ is what will fuck us. Whatever the hell they ask us, we answer smartly and respectfully. The absolute last thing we need is to look like petulant children.”

A collective nod of recognition and muffled murmurs of, “Fine” and “Whatever” put an end to our conversation. They dispersed, relocating to different spaces in the common area. Walker nearly cradled his battered and bent shield as if it were an infant. I sighed a breath before approaching him, “We can procure another one of those, don’t stress about it.”

“Do you always talk like Siri or do you reserve that shit for us?“ Walker’s voice was angry, he didn’t wait to hear what I had to say in response before stomping past me and out of the room.

I wove my fingers into my hair and seated myself at a table in a secluded corner. The voices of everyone blended together in an overlapping chorus of Russian, English and American accents. I felt like I was in an airport.

The press conference took very little to organise. The Watchtower had a space designated for media outlets to come in and ask questions, so the location was easily settled. The time and date took a little more manoeuvring but it all fell into place.

“Thanks for listening to me,” Bucky took the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation, perhaps he was worried one wouldn’t be offered.

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” I closed my laptop and pushed it to the side, “I appreciate your honesty with me.”

“Can I offer some more honesty?”

“Of course,” I braced myself.

“Enough of the honorifics. I don’t know if you noticed, but this isn’t the group for that.”

I glanced over his shoulder, seeing Alexei in an intense game of Monopoly with Bob, Yelena and a reluctant Ava. I instantly understood what Bucky meant.

“Yes, I can see that,” I said, dropping ‘Mr. Barnes’ but still unwilling to call him by his name, “This still feels very ‘oil and water’ to me, though. I’m not sure what to do.”

”Time,” The soldier leaned across the table, closer to me, “You can’t expect them to immediately respect you and welcome you into the fold”. Bucky spoke with such certainty, he had been the outsider before, and to a much greater degree than me.

He gestured towards himself. “I’ve seen you in action, I saw how you risked your life to give me crucial insider information with Valentina. They only know you as her old personal assistant. So, wait. Let them see how different you are compared to her, it takes time.”

I stared at his face and saw how painfully honest he was. He knew the pain of reputation and having to prove himself. So, I let his advice seep into me.

“Thank you. I know I probably should’ve been here from day one, it’s just-”

That cold bionic arm wrapped around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks, “You’re here now. Relax. If you go around making excuses and apologising they’ll just walk all over you. Find a balance between that crazy, domineering woman I saw in your office yesterday and this meek creature. There’s a time and place for both, find a balance.”

I tried to smother the thoughts of how that prosthetic might feel on the nape of my neck or on my bare waist.

“Crazy?” I tried to smile at him. He returned the favour, leaning back into his chair and staring down at me with those tired bedroom eyes. He had to know what he was doing, this couldn’t be unintentional. I crossed my legs tighter and got back to business, “Press conference in two weeks. Is there anything you need me to get you for it? I’m guessing you’ll all wear your suits, so at least that’s sorted.”

“What will you wear?”

“I don’t know. I’m still not sold on the whole ‘public facing’ thing.”

“Well, that’s how it is now. This is a public facing role. No ones expecting you to become some gunslinger, but we need you there,” His heavy boot brushed against my stocking-covered calve, “Do you think any one of us could be as eloquent as you?”

I rolled my eyes instinctively, pulling my leg back, “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

My eyes held his, needing to see any indication of want in him, “Working me.”

He grinned, just the right side of sleazy, “Oh, I’m not doing anything. Just asking questions.”

I stood up slowly, never looking away from his cold blue eyes, “Let me know if you need anything for the press conference, Bucky.”

2.5.

Bucky POV

‘Working her’

I sat in my apartment and tried to dissect that for hours.

Was it a warning? ‘Stop doing whatever you’re doing, I know you’re flirting’.

Or was it encouragement? ‘Don’t beat around the bush, push it farther. Tell me what you want.’

Decades of celibacy has made me rusty, I can admit that. And the world of courtship has changed. I was raised with soda shop dates and bouquets of flowers, how am I supposed to compete with fucking on demand dick on dating apps?

She’d just grow bored of me and all the baggage that came with me. That is if she’d ever lower herself to me in the first place.

I flexed my bionic arm, whipping it backwards and spinning it forwards. Shame swallowed me whole.

[hunipeye]

What Remains of Winter

Read on Ao3; https://archiveofourown.org/works/66008359

————————————————————————————

A little bit of housekeeping; You take the role of Mel Gold. Assume you did all she did in “Thunderbolts*”. However, y/n doesn’t have a personality entirely consistent with that of Mel, she’s not intended to be the same character.

I might interject with the odd Bucky POV chapter but it won’t be every second one and they’ll probably be shorter.

I also don’t intend to include a lot of Valentina Allegra De Fontaine, at least no more than is necessary. I’m too lazy to write about her complex relationships with each character so let’s just consider her an angel investor/spokesperson of sorts! Good? Great! I’m also not American so I don’t have a clue about how the government and shit works, I’m writing horny Bucky fic, not some “House of Cards”, “Succession” in-depth, masterful political drama lol.

While writing this I got so genuinely, unironically depressed over the fact that I couldn’t have Sebastian Stan that I had to stop writing it for a week. I was straight-up bedridden from lust.

This is my first time writing anything so it might not be good but I hope it’s not bad lol

————————————————————————————

It’s been 2 months since the formation of the New Avengers under your boss, Valentina Allegra De Fontaine, months before the beginnings of a momentous space crisis.

The blackmail you have against Ms De Fontaine has benefited you immensely, resulting in an unprecedented rise in rank and salary. Gone are the days of fetching coffees. With Valentina being nothing more than the money of the operation, you now act as a tactical field analyst and a liaison officer between the New Avengers and the public. Frankly, it’s all very new to you, but it’s better than grovelling at the feet of a woman who’d sooner have you killed than fire you. At least you have the guidance of a veteran (quite literally).

————————————————————————————

Chapter 1

“I understand your frustration, Senator, this change is as sudden for us as it is for you. We’re all moving at the same pace, here.”

My voice had become different after the attack on Manhattan, more stern perhaps. In my new position a change like that was necessary. My face was new, my reputation nonexistent. Due to my role in the attack - my revealing of confidential information to ex-senator Barnes - being kept on an entirely need-to-know basis I needed to make an example of myself and prove that I was more than Valentina’s old personal assistant. A goal like that is significantly harder in a world craving superheros when you only have vaguely moral assassins in your ranks.

The senator continued, “I don’t think you grasp the collective trauma the city feels. They need to feel secure. You need to get those Thunderbolts-”

“That is not their name, Senator, and we have established that,” I snapped, growing tired of having to explain our troubled naming conventions.

A huff sounded on the other end of the call, “I don’t give a damn what you’re calling your little band of merry men. What I do give a shit about is getting them out in the public eye and getting them formally associated with the American government.”

I could feel the crease forming in my brow as I retorted, “I’ll ask you once more to mind your language with me, Senator. You had no need for the Avengers to be in league with the Government, why is it different with us? Do you think you can frighten me and back me into a corner? Our group will follow the same outline as the Avengers; we aim to protect global stability, not just within the United States.”

His laugh was cruel, laced with hatred and arrogance, “But will you live up to their legacy? You don’t even have a name, in fact, you barely have a team. What was it I heard about that Bob guy? Can’t seem to keep it up, can he? Shame that your best asset has fallen flat-”

“Senator, I appreciate your interest in our new group but I really don’t see this conversation benefitting either of us.”

I didn’t wait to hear his parting words before I hung up.

My office was located on the top floor of the Watchtower, the floor-to-ceiling window behind me boasted a clear view of the setting sun over the New York skyline. Picture perfect, like one of those insufferable souvenir postcards. My desk was nearly overwhelmed with paperwork on everything from ‘Avengers’ copyright to surveys on what people wanted stocked in the vending machines littered throughout the Watchtower offices. Certainly below my rank. I had just begun organising everything when a telltale heavy knock sounded on my door. I didn’t need to lift my head to see who it was, “Come in.”

Bucky’s footsteps were steady as he entered and shut the door behind him without having to be asked. He was dressed casually, in dark cargo pants and a slim-fit, slate grey t-shirt that stretched ever so slightly over his upper-arms. I noted that his hair was still in that jaw length, wolf-ish cut. I secretly hoped he had no intention to crop it anytime soon.

“Busy?” He murmured, his eyes darting to the stack of papers I tried to put order on.

“Exceptionally Mr. Barnes,” My tone was flat and humorless, “What is it you need?”

He seated himself in the dark leather armchair in front of my desk without invitation, cocking his head to the side as he spoke, “I need clarification on our intentions here.”

My skin grew goosebumps under my satin blouse, the back of my neck grew hot and cold all at once. Intentions? Our relationship was nothing more than business, with the odd flirtation, we had no need to discuss intentions-

He continued, “Everyone’s growing impatient, you know? They need order, so we need to know your intentions.”

I suddenly realised I had been holding my breath and tried to exhale as steadily as possible. Bucky’s eyes seemed to bore into me, tracking every movement like a true marksman.

“I understand your frustration-”

He waved that bionic arm dismissively, “I don’t want your press statement. I don’t want to hear what you’re telling every media outlet. What are your plans? Real tangible plans.”

I bit my lip, forcing down the urge to shout back at him about how maybe this was easy to him but it was all new to me and that I felt like a mule with all the workload I was carrying. His blue eyes followed my bottom lip as it slowly slipped out from between my teeth.

“I’m working on it, Mr. Barnes. I am learning the ropes as I go and ask that you, and everyone else, stay patient as we move forward.”

He didn’t try to mask his scoff, “Fucking P.R.”

My nails dug into my thighs, I barely noticed the ladder that formed as a result, my mind in a haze of stress and frustration, “If you’re so damn eager to get your feet on the ground, what do you recommend we do, Winter Soldier?”

I stood up, my heels clacking against the polished black tile floor as I strode over to him, standing over his seated body. I forced my eyes on his face, not on how the soft, warm light above us revealed the shadows and contours of his muscled torso, or on how his forearm twitched as I moved closer, and not on how his trousers stretched over his thighs and hips, giving a faint outline of his crotch.

Yes, I would keep my eyes on his face.

“I’m working as best I can, Mr. Barnes. If you want to be helpful, by all means assist me. But if you’re going to come into my office and tell me how to behave, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

The soldier held my gaze, his face as serious as cancer as he retorted, “You didn’t mind being told what to do at the fundraiser party. What did you call it? ‘Working you’? All I had to do was give you a business card and you ratted on Val,” His face barely shifted as he continued, “You want my advice? Actually try to work with us. You’re not some higher up executive who doesn’t need to mingle with the talent. Like it or not, you’re in this business now, and that makes you the talent too.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean? Is it some veiled threat? You want me to fall in line and just take it?”

The unintentional innuendo hung in air for a heavy, silent moment before Bucky responded, “You’re a public figure now. You’re not some faceless assistant or a glorified waitress. People know what you look like, they know what college you went to, your allergies, your mom’s maiden name.”

I bristled at the mention of my mother, trying to remain composed. My back straightened as he rose from the chair, he was over a head taller than me.

“My point is, you’re the same as us. You might not have blood on your hands and you might be new, but we’re all in the same damn boat. You can’t run this shit on your own, you have no experience. So maybe you could stand to be with the workhorses and get out of this ivory tower.”

His tone was dripping with venomous distaste and the soldier slipped past me, making his way towards the door.

“Mr. Barnes,” I didn’t move as he turned back to face me, I kept my gaze stubborn and hard, “You should know I don’t view you all the way you seem to think. That’s in no way conducive to a successful working environment.”

His laugh was gruff and tired, “It’s all business to you. You want to turn a profit and make us some media sensation-”

“That is not me, Bucky, and you fucking know it,” I snapped back, striding toward him and pressing a manicured finger into his chest, “That’s Val. Don’t you dare make me out to be like that woman.”

I watched as his eyes scanned down my body to the long hole in my stockings that ran from my upper thigh to just below my knee, revealing a strip of bare skin. Bucky seemed to smirk as a cold, metallic finger ran along my leg, “You’re already falling apart”. The touch ended as quickly as it started. He paused a moment before continuing, ”So what is it you want?”

The question stumped me and its double meaning forced me to think about my response.

“I trust you,” My breath caught in my throat, “I trust you and Yelena and Alexei and Ava and Walker. And I trust you all to help advise me on how to move forward with this. But I need you to work with me, I won’t sit by and be a fucking secretary”. I threw my arm back and gestured to all the paperwork left untouched on my desk.

“I never expected you to be. I’ve already explained that.”

Now I was taking my frustration out on him, I sighed at my actions. “Alright, Mr. Barnes, I appreciate your help. I won’t keep you any longer.

“I’m the one who came here.”

I couldn’t bear to see the look on his face any longer, ”And I’m sure you’ve got all the answers you need, so good evening to you, Mr. Barnes.”

He wordlessly turned away from me, exiting my office and striding down the hallway. I let myself observe the tight muscles in his broad back before the door clicked closed and left me alone in my ‘ivory tower’ once again.