Part 13

Summary: Bucky finally gets the quiet he wanted, but is it what he needed? An overheard conversation spurs him into action.

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, canon adjacent drama & violence.

Credits: dividers by @firefly-graphics , beta read by @christywantspizza

A/N: Sorry I kept you guys waiting, I needed a little break to get back on track and catch up with some other projects (real and fandom!). Thank you for your patience, hope you enjoy it!

Series Masterlist|Masterlist|Soundtrack

11 weeks 4 days since the snap 

Silence had been exactly what he wanted, so why was it more deafening than any of your silly TV shows or your energetic playlists. Bucky wallowed in it, lying on the sofa and the floor of the living area, bathing in the deep silence that was your absence. He watered your plants and watched them perk up slowly, he fluffed the cushions and folded the blanket on the sofa and stared at the middle distance. 

Now that he had quiet he wasn’t sure what to do with it. The nagging voices in his head crept back in, the voice that told him he would always be the Winter Soldier, the voice that made him shrink away from his new friends. He had wondered on the first day where the voice had gone that said he was worthy of love, of comfort and softness in his life, that made him laugh and showed him joy. That night he woke in a sweat, hearing the voice again, lilting and sweet, but not the disembodied omniscient consciousness he’d expected. He’d seen you in his dreams, dressed in lilac and smelling like lavender, a cup of steaming tea left on the counter for him - Goodnight Barnes X. 

He lit his candle and tried to sleep again, but it didn’t work. Briefly, he contemplated sleeping in your room, but that seemed intrusive. What if he took one of your candles? Surely you wouldn’t object to that, or if he used one of your tea bags? He shuffled around in the dark, falling asleep holding his pillow close, stolen lavender spray applied liberally over his bed. 

To distract himself he hit the gym, but, without you to tease, it was boring. Walking around the block attracted attention, and it just wasn’t as good watching shows without your commentary. He missed the little noises you made at plot reveals and twists, he especially missed the way you lifted his arm to hide against his chest when something was scary. Not only did you feel perfect slotted against his side, but he knew he was lucky to see you that vulnerable, with your guard down for once, he hadn’t even seen you flinch before.

Walking the vast corridors of the tower was by far the most entertaining thing Bucky found to do. By the second day, he found himself wandering for hours. The R&D lab was interesting and Tony let him sit stoically against the wall watching. Wanda had decorated outside of her apartment with a  very odd gold frame around the peep hole, but she did a lot of things he didn’t understand. He learnt the most by listening to the junior agents talk while he sat in the gallery above the gym. 

Mostly they prattled on about some shit Tony had said or which Avenger they thought was the most attractive - that had been an eye opener -, but by day three he found himself with favourites, routing for the underdog in training sessions, spotting who was being excluded and making a mental note to seek them out later. 

It was after one of the induction sessions that he ran into Dovich, a steady recruit who did well in his training but appeared cold with most of his colleagues. Bucky could remember seeing him around with a few of the female agents, although the gossip hadn’t extended to his interpersonal relationships yet. Mostly everyone else seemed afraid of him, which peaked Bucky’s interest in all the wrong ways. 

He’d only been able to speak to him, alone, once in the small kitchen next to the gym, and the whole interaction had Bucky on pins. Firstly, he’d made far too many references to you and the girls trip away. All the other agents had been told it really was just a party and you’d hand picked a tight knit group of female agents to take with you, a believable friendship group. So why had Dovich asked so many questions? 

Then he’d made an odd reference to your injury. To Bucky’s knowledge you’d never interacted with the man, but he seemed keen to offer his sympathy. He played the conversation again in his head to try and pinpoint the moment his skin had started to prickle. 

“Terrible what happened to Agent Timber, hope she’s okay.”

“She’ll be fine.” Bucky hadn’t wanted to talk about you too much, it seemed like an intimate thing to say to someone. 

“Well I hope whoever did it gets what’s coming to her.”

Her.

That’s what was odd. Normally people said ‘them’ or he wouldn’t have been surprised by ‘he’, judging by the gender ratios of their own agents and particularly the agents they ended up fighting. 

Her. Why did he say her? 

That’s how he found himself waiting for the man early in the morning on the fourth day you were gone. 

Following at a safe distance, Bucky watched as Dovich slunk down the hall away from the observation gallery, tucking himself behind a pillar and one of many large pot plants. Bucky stopped, pressing his back to the wall and slowing his breathing so he could hear better. 

“She still keeps to the routine then, that’ll make things easier…no, no more meetings…no, nothing’s left the armoury…well I wouldn’t know about that would I?! … Yes I’ll be quiet…they’re still here, don’t suspect a thing, it was close last time though, are you sure your leg is healed?” Dovich walked away, calling a lift and taking his conversation with him. 

Bucky stifled his breathing further, hadn’t you shot someone in the leg at Tony’s cabin? He thought back to the recruits he’d seen training but no one seemed to have an injury. Dovich’s conversion sounded more like the other person was away from the tower, passing on observations to him. Routine. Armoury. Who’s still there? 

She keeps to a routine, still. Wanda and Natasha lived on some sort of 36 hour clock, eating and sleeping at odd times, Maria was organised too. But they were all still in the building. That left you and Sharon.  Sharon was officially on leave, unofficially she was keeping an eye on you. Could they have worked that out? No, because Sharon’s routine would be different at the motel, keeping night shifts while you slept. 

That left you. For all the other recruits knew you really were at a bachelorette for one of the younger agents, and you probably were sticking to your general daily routine, but that meant isolating yourself if you went to bed or out for a walk.

She still keeps to the routine 

It was you. 

Which meant the person he was talking to was with you. Fuck. And the woman who’d been able to overpower him was there too, albeit with an apparently healed gunshot wound.

“FRIDAY?“ Bucky turned his face up to the ceiling impulsivly. 

"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?" 

"Can I have the mission details for Agent Timber’s current assignment?" 

"Sorry, Sergeant Barnes, that’s classified information.” She did sound like she wanted to give him the information though, he could almost imagine a real person, chewing their finger nails, hand hovering over a paper file. It would be a hell of a lot easier if she was a real person. 

Instead he turned his frustration away from her imagined presence in the ceiling and toward something inanimate. “Fuck.” He smacked his palm on the mirrored surface outside of the lifts, a hairline fracture appearing between his fingers. “Fuck, sorry FRIDAY." 

Bucky let his head rest over the growing crack, attempting the deep breathing that Doctor Raynor was always making him practice.

"Sergeant Barnes?” the AI asked, “Can I make a suggestion?" 

"Uhm - yes?” Bucky wasn’t sure how much the AI understood of the world, but he’d seen enough people interact with her and confide in her that a suggestion could actually be helpful. 

“Captain Rogers has access to the mission details. If you wanted to ask him about it, that would be his decision." 

"FRIDAY! You are incredible, has anyone told you that?” Bucky almost broke the buttons in the lift hammering the one for Steve and Sam’s floor. 

“On occasion.” How she made her response sound like a smile was behind his comprehension. 

After a few floors a thought occurred to him,“Are they in? Steve. Sam. Are they in?” His heart was hammering in his chest, his right palm sweaty.

“Yes, both Captain Rogers and Special Agent Wilson are home, Sergeant Barnes." 

"Good good, can you call me Bucky? This Sergeant stuff is weird.” He continued to pace restlessly, fidgeting with his hands, FRIDAY made an affirmative noise.

He thought about trying to call you, even though you’d argued the last time you spoke. Would you pick up? “Can you try and call Agent Timber for me?" 

"I’m sorry, Bucky, her phone is currently not accepting calls.” Of course, you’d be asleep and your phone would be off for another - he checked his watch - hour at least. Could he call Sharon? 

The doors opened, revealing Steve and Sam’s door and then the Captain himself. 

“FRIDAY said you were coming to - hey - woah!” Bucky rushed passed him into the neat apartment and then dragged him in behind him, checking the hall before shutting the door and sliding the bolt across. 

“Steve, Steve, you have to get her back.” He gripped Steve’s shoulders tightly. “Call them all back, you have to, she’s in danger.” 

Steve circled his arms to break away from Bucky’s bruising grasp. “We’ve been through this, Buck, she’s perfectly capable. She saved your ass didn’t she? Leave her alone.” He sighed. 

“Steve!” He grabbed at him again, even as Steve dodged backwards, hands up. 

“Look, I’ll get you moved to the first new apartment, okay? Just let her do this mission on her own.” Frantic, Bucky moved around the kitchen island looking for any sign of paperwork or mission documents, opening and closing drawers. 

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, wiping sleep from his eyes. 

“Sam, you’ve got to help me. Timber’s in danger, they’re all in danger.” Bucky implored. 

“God, it’s too early for this Bucky, what’s going on.” 

“Sam.“ He held his arms still. "I need your help.” 

Something flashed behind Sam’s eyes, something akin to understanding. Bucky would rather walk around a table than ask him to pass the ketchup, so whatever had him riled must be serious. 

“Okay, Buck, okay, let’s-” He gestured away from the kitchen.

Steve followed him to the living area and pushed his shoulders until he sat into the deep sofa. “Slow down, tell us.” 

“Timber’s in danger-” 

“We got that bit, why?” 

Bucky described his covert surveillance of Dovich, his suspicious following the trip to Tony’s cabin and the routine that you kept, a routine that kept you alone a lot of the time. As he grew more frantic he waved his arms, standing again and marching in circles around the rug. 

“So let’s go.” He tipped his thumb towards the door but neither of the other men followed. 

“We have to be careful, we don’t know who else is in on this.” Steve patted the sofa but Bucky refused to sit. 

“What are we going to dothough?”

“Steve and I will pull the agent manifest, try and get a reading on who this person is. When Sharon makes her call in an hour we’ll let her know of your suspicions. It’s been four days and she isn’t hurt yet so we don’t know if this is just surveillance.” 

“Or if they’re going to kill her.” Bucky growled. “What if they’re HYDRA? We don’t know who they work for, but they clearly have serum. At least one of them is far too fucking strong.” 

“Look, I’m worried about her too.” Sam held his hands up.

“Not like me.” 

“We are, we’re her friends and we care about her, we have a duty of care to all those field agents as well so what we’re going to do is -” 

“Not. Like. Me. You can stay here and look at your papers and wait for her to be hurt, but not me.” 

Bucky turned sharply on his heel and headed for the door. 

“Sergeant.” Steve barked. “You will notpursue this alone.”

Defiantly, Bucky stood facing the door, grinding his teeth, both hands curled into tight fists. 

"That’s an order. Do not leave this tower." 

“With all due respect, Captain.” He spat, eyes never leaving the white metal in front of him. “You’ll have to stop me.”

Bucky went straight for the apartment, swapping his jeans and t-shirt for his tactical gear and arranging all of the guns and knives he was supposed to leave in the armoury in the various holsters across his body. 

"FRIDAY, keep trying Timber’s phone please." 

Ring ring. Beep. 

The phone rang and beeped over and over as he made his way back into the hall, hitting the call button himself, worried about being overheard. How would he get there?

Ring ring. Beep. 

Motorbike would be faster than a car, but if you were hurt how would he get you to safety? 

Ring Ring. Beep. 

Car then, but that would take at least two hours. 

Ring ring. Ring ring. 

He stilled. Waiting for the beep that never came.

"Timber?" 

"Jamie!” You were breathless, something strained in your voice, panicked. 

“You’ve got to leave, go, now!"  

The line went silent and then the sickening crunch of something hard hitting bone. 

"Jamie!” Your scream reverberated around the hall from his phone, the call ended abruptly half way through another strangled groan. 

That decided it, the helicopter.

Bucky took the stairs as fast as he could, wrenching the lock off the door to the helipad when it resisted. The helicopter was easy to break into, muscle memory taking over from a place he didn’t want to think about. All he could picture was your face, smiling and playful, then contorted, screaming, the sound echoing in his mind as he started the blades. 

Steve burst into the sunlight, followed closely by Sam, but they could only watch as Bucky took off, banking sharply in the direction of the lake house.