Chapter Text
The truth doesn’t cost anything, but a lie could cost you everything.
“No, no,” you barely managed to sob through the tears streaming down your face, “Please don’t hurt him.”
Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, and only just audible in the white room. Blood dripped from your lip and your eyes could barely focus on anything, but you could just see Oliver being hauled into the room. You thrashed against your restraints, the leather groaning against what was left of your muscles.
“I’m going to ask one more time, Ghostie,” Novak’s voice came from behind you, his hand landing harshly on your head to smooth down your wily hair, “Tell me the formula and I’ll make it all stop.”
Your jaw clenched, eyes blurring from the bright lights.
Novak laughed.
It was more like a cackle really. And it echoed around the room.
He came around the table you were strapped to and looked you dead in the eyes before his face fell as he took you in.
Novak clicked his tongue.
“Do you think I’m bluffing, darling?” he growled, seizing your chin and wrenching it up to look at him.
A snarl left your throat.
Novak’s nose wrinkled and he clicked his tongue again. Taking off his glasses, he set them on a silver tray next to a used scalpel before he turned to the guards holding Ollie and nodded.
Screams reverberated through the room and you couldn’t help but close your eyes until they were done. Your stomach churned.
“Please,” you managed a whisper, finally cracking them open at turning to Novak, “He has nothing to do with this–”
“Tell me what I want and I’ll let him go,” Novak shrugged, leaning against a table and watching Oliver intently.
You swallowed, “I can’t remember–”
“Liar,” he snarled, nodding again to the guards as he began towards you and the screams started again, “You know. You know it exactly, you just won’t tell me.”
“No,” you whimpered, flinching as he brought his face closer to yours.
A growl left his throat as he spun away from you and Oliver’s screams grew.
You squeezed your eyes shut and hoped, somehow, closing them would get rid of Ollie’s cries.
After a few more moments, silence enveloped the room. A ragged breath left your lips as you opened your eyes and you found yourself face to face with a bloody, beaten, and bruised Oliver.
“Lieutenant,” Oliver sputtered, blood streaming from his nose, “please.”
“Ollie, I can’t–”
You were cut off as the guards went at him again and you couldn’t look away. Your eyes stung as tears welled in them before they dripped down your face.
“I’m tired of playing this game with you, Ghostie,” Novak sighed, sliding a hand down his face as he walked past a guard, ruffling Ollie’s hair as he did. A high-pitched yelp left Oliver’s lips as he did.
Novak stopped in front of another guard, reaching forward to pull a pistol from the holster on his hip. The doctor turned it over in his hands a moment before he popped back the slide to chamber a round, “So I’m going to give you to the count of three.”
Your eyes widened, flicking back to Ollie where your eyes met his.
“(F/N).”
“One,” Novak said slowly, still turning the gun over in his hands and coming to stand next to you where he clicked off the safety.
“Please, Merek,” you whispered, “I don’t know–”
“Two,” he continued, ignoring your protests as he lifted the gun to aim at Oliver’s head.
“(F/N),” Ollie repeated, panic evident in his eyes as they searched your face.
“Three–”
“Okay! Okay!” you screamed, lurching forward against your bonds. Novak hesitated a moment, his finger still on the trigger before he rocked back to his heels and looked toward you, “Okay. Just please don’t hurt him.”
Novak turned to you slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and he set the gun down onto the tray next to his glasses. He turned to one of his assistants who handed him a notebook and red pen before he pulled up a chair next to you, “Alright, Ghostie, let’s get started shall we?”
You glanced back to Ollie, your jaw clenching for a moment before a string of words left your lips.
Chemicals and numbers. Some of which you had never heard of, let alone said out loud, but it all spilled out at once.
Novak’s red pen scratched against the paper, keeping perfect time with your babbling. It must have taken about five minutes for you to finish. And the doctor grinned when you did.
“Very good, Ghostie,” he smiled, handing his notebook to one of his assistants and flipping the pen into the pocket of his suit jacket. He stood from his chair and turned to put his glasses back on.
A sigh of relief had barely made it through your nose before your eyes widened again and you flailed against the leather straps.
As Novak slid his glasses back on and he turned around, the gun was back in his hand.
And he wasn’t handing it back to the guard.
He was pointing it back at Ollie.
“Y-You promised!” you spat, lunging at him as he walked forward.
“Oh, darling,” he grinned, “I said nothing of the sort.”
Your eyes snapped open, your breath caught in your throat as you took in your surroundings.
— “Oh, darling, I said nothing of the sort.” —
You froze, it was dark, you could barely see and there was something touching you.
Fidgeting slightly, you were able to get out of whatever was wrapped around your waist and rolled out of bed, dropping silently to the floor. Reaching under the bed, you snatched a pistol you kept hidden in a shoebox before hopping back to your feet. Aiming it at the bed, you slowly snuck towards the door of the room and reached for the handle. You kicked a pair of shoes out of the way before carefully opening the door. There was enough light in the hallway outside to illuminate the bed where you kept the pistol trained.
A glint of metal caught your eye and a sigh of relief rushed from your throat.
Bucky.
You silently flicked the safety back into place and flipped the pistol into your waistband before you slid out of the room, closing the door behind you. You didn’t let the door latch. Instead, you closed it enough you could sneak down the hallway and slip into the bathroom where you collapsed into a pile on the floor.
A shattered breath barely tumbled through your lips as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you began to rock back and forth.
— “Oh, darling, I said nothing of the sort.” —
— “No!” —
Flinching as a phantom gunshot rang through your ears, you covered them.
As if that would help.
You stayed there, curled on the floor, for a few more minutes before willing yourself to get up. Reaching for the sink, you swung yourself to your feet, clutching at the porcelain to keep yourself upright.
You winced at the sight of yourself in the mirror.
Bloodshot eyes and bruised cheeks.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes and down your face as if you weren’t trying desperately to contain them. You leaned heavily over the sink. Shoulders hunched over as you hung your head, unable to look at yourself any longer.
You forced yourself to take a deep breath and let it out in a broken huff.
Get ahold of yourself, you shook your head.
Steadying your breath, you tried to stand up straight but caught sight of yourself in the mirror again and collapsed back down to the ground.
You blinked, shaking your head as a deep growl tore its way from your chest and you pushed yourself back up.
— "What are you doing, Ghost? Put that down!” —
— “This..this is for, Oliver, doc.” —
You glared at your reflection in the mirror before you rocked back to your heels, closing your eyes and forcing yourself to relax.
Another deep breath.
You opened your eyes.
Greasy-ass hair and dark raccoon eyes.
A scoff filled the bathroom as you took yourself in.
You were a mess, to say the least. Arguments could be made for a hot mess, but they would be flimsy at best.
Glancing over to the shower, you stretched across to the door and clicked the lock. You slid your shirt over your head, tossing it over your shoulder as you kicked off your shoes and leaned down to slide off your pants.
Swiping the shower curtain open, you were just about to step in when you caught your form in the mirror again.
— “I must say, my dear, the human body intrigues me,” Novak paused, twirling a scalpel in his hand, “But I’m not a surgeon.” —
You grimaced at the thick, jagged, silvery lines that littered your body.
— “This is going to get a tad messy.” —
Flinching at the voice in your head, you turned away from the mirror and all but dove into the shower. Turning it onto the coldest setting, you flung yourself into the water. You felt it run down your head, soaking your hair before streaming down your back and you let out a quiet groan.
— With every step you took, the skin on the bottom of your feet sizzled and blisters were forming on top of blisters on your exposed skin, but your eyes stayed steadfast on the horizon. —
A sharp hiss left your nose.
God, you wished the water was colder.
— "Holy shit! Where’d you come from, sweetheart?” a British voice called to you. You couldn’t see him over the glare of the burning sun. —
— “Hell.” —
Sucking a breath, your eyes snapped open and you finally straightened.
Enough, you thought, reaching for your shampoo. That’s enough.
— “Get a medic!” —
You rolled your eyes, roughly working the soap into your filthy hair before rinsing it out and reaching for conditioner.
— "Get the Americans on the line! Tell ‘em we found one of theirs.” —
Pulling your hair up into a bun, you let the conditioner sit for a moment before snatching body wash from another shelf and slathering it all over yourself.
The smell of smoke and metal and blood still lingered on your body, making you shudder as you tried to wash it off the best you could.
— “Lieutenant (L/N)? Can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, ma’am.” —
Rinsing off, you slammed the water off with a snarl before stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel. You winced slightly, hitting your wound as you leaned over to grab a hairbrush from the cabinet beside the toilet.
“Forgot about that one,” you scoffed, rubbing it gently before brushing through your hair and pulling it back into a braid.
You frowned as you turned around, realizing you’d forgotten a change of clothes in your bedroom. Glancing down to the clothes on the floor, you shook your head and stepped over them towards the door.
Pulling the towel tighter around you, you peeked your head out the door before sneaking your way down the stairs and snatching your duffle bag from where Bucky had kicked it. Tossing it over your shoulder, you hurtled your way back up the stairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
Rifling through the bag, you snatched out a pair of pajamas and slipped them on before flicking the light off in the bathroom and slowly making your way back to your room.
The door creaked slightly when you opened it. You paused, watching Bucky’s sleeping form before entering the room and swinging the door shut. You laid your bag on the floor at the foot of the bed and slid back under the covers.
Bucky stirred only slightly as you curled up next to him and you took one last deep breath before you closed your eyes. You hoped that the bad dreams were over, though you knew there was no way they’d ever leave you.
— “Oh, darling, I said nothing of the sort.” —
You sniffled lightly. Curling tighter into a ball and squeezing your eyes shut as a shudder racked through your body.
— “One.” —
Your muscles tensed as another phantom gunshot echoed in your ears followed by screams.
— “Two.” —
Jaw clenching, you covered your ears.
— “Three.” —
You flinched slightly as a hand found its way to your hip. It curved around your waist, tugging you back into a warm chest. A thumb rubbed gentle circles on your back before a voice –his voice– whispered against your ear, “You okay, doll?”
Bucky drawled it, his voice raspy and tired as he pulled you tighter against him and his breath ghosted across your neck.
A sigh of relief let your throat and you relaxed into him with a hum and a soft smile, “I am now.”
A light chuckle rumbled through his throat as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, “You sure?”
You paused a moment, your face falling before you nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“Liar,” he purred, pulling away from you slightly as you rolled over to face him and rested your forehead against his, “Talk to me.”
“It was just a nightmare,” you whispered, barely catching a glimpse of his face in the darkness and hoping he couldn’t see yours, “No big deal.”
Bucky grumbled lowly, wrapping both arms around you and pulled you closer than you already were, “You know how you said that I could talk to you about anything?”
“Yeah?”
“You can talk to me too. You know that, right?”
You managed a slow nod before burying your face into his chest, “I know,” you mumbled, “It was nothing. I promise. Go back to sleep.”
He scoffed lightly, resting his chin atop your head, “You first, baby.”
“Whatever you say, Soldier Boy.”
Bucky carefully swung the door closed behind him, leaving it open just a crack before he made his way down the stairs. Warm sunlight greeted him as he entered the living room, the sun had already broken over the horizon by the time he had unwrapped himself from (F/N) and slipped out the door.
If he was totally honest, he hadn’t wanted to leave her. She was warm and snuggly and he loved the feeling of her in his arms, not that he’d ever tell her that. For the first time since she had left with Steve and Sam for New York, he’d slept well.
That is until he woke up and she was gone. It had scared the shit out of him.
He swore his heart stopped for a moment, he had just about jumped out of the bed before he heard the shower turn on. The sound had reassured him for the time being until she had slipped back into bed and violently flinched away from him.
A low sigh left his lips as he clicked on the TV out of habit and plopped down onto the couch. He held his head in his hands, not listening to the droning reporter on the news station but appreciating the background noise that filled the room.
Leaning back into the seat he closed his eyes.
Perhaps old memories had resurfaced from her outing with the Avengers or her encounter with the Enhanced –Wanda– had spooked her more than she let on. Either way, it had him worried.
He shook his head, stretching as he soaked up the sunlight that flooded through the windows and engulfed the couch before he hopped to his feet.
There was no doubt in his mind that (F/N) would bounce back from whatever it was that plagued her. He shrugged, if it really was something that bothered her, she would tell him...right?
Right.
He nodded to himself as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out everything he needed for breakfast.
Making breakfast for the two of them had become a habit for him. Even if most days (F/N) woke earlier than him and really didn’t eat much, he still had it ready for her in case she did.
It was calming, really. A relaxing way to start the day with birds chirping to the sound of the coffeemaker’s incessant beeping and the sun rising over the rolling hills that surrounded the homestead.
Bucky had eggs and bacon sizzling on a frying pan and coffee in the pot before he even realized it. A hum rolled through his throat as he shook the pan while reaching across the counter for the salt and pepper that (F/N) kept on the window sill.
He was just about to grab them when a pair of arms slid around his waist and a forehead rested against his back. He paused for only a moment before a small grin appeared on his face and he continued on.
“G’morning, doll,” he chuckled, resting a hand on hers, “How’d you sleep?”
(F/N) responded with a low groan.
“That good, huh?” he asked, patting her hand a couple of times. She loosened her grip on him enough for him to turn to face her. (F/N) buried her head into his chest, almost like she was hiding her face from him. He sighed, wrapping one hand around her back while the other rested against the back of her neck, “You alright?”
She scoffed with a shrug, “Just peachy.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, both hands dropping to her waist, careful to avoid the wound on her side, he gently pushed her away from him. The girl looked up, tired eyes glancing up to him and searching his.
Her eyes were almost bloodshot and ringed with dark circles and a light bruise adorned her cheek. He frowned, cupping her cheek and lightly running his thumb over the bruise. (F/N) shied away from him slightly before leaning into his touch.
“They did a number on you, didn’t they?” he said slowly, staring intently at the bruising before looking her up and down.
“Nothin’ I couldn’t handle,” (F/N) smiled, reaching up to his hand, guiding it back to her waist and pulling him into a hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder, her still damp hair tickling his neck.
“I’m sure you kicked ass,” Bucky chuckled before he frowned, “(F/N), are you sure you don’t wanna talk–”
“Barnes–”
“(F/N), baby, talk to me. You can trust me–”
“Nah, Buck, your bacon’s burning.”
A high-pitched gasp left Bucky’s mouth as he swung around, taking you with him. His grip on your waist tightened as the two of you spun before he lifted you up and set you on the counter.
You blinked, not quite sure of what happened, and when Bucky turned back to you after attempting to save his bacon, he looked confused as well.
His confusion melted away as he looked you over, grinning when he made eye contact.
“Did you mean to do that?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow as he slid in front of you and leaned against the counter, arms on either side of you.
“No,” he smirked lazily.
You shook your head, a smile playing on your lips as you reached up to brush a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Even with you sitting on the counter, he was still half a head taller than you. Bucky leaned into your touch, getting closer to you.
“You need a haircut,” you managed to breathe as your pulse quickened and he snickered. He was only a few inches away from you now, your foreheads nearly touching.
“You think so?” he purred, licking his lips as he eyed yours before leaning in.
— “It’ll be fine, mi amor, everything will go according to plan, it always does.” —
“James,” you whispered, placing a hand on his chest.
— “Ah! Mi amor, I think I’m in love with you.” —
He froze, cocking his head as he searched your face.
— “Considering you already asked me to marry you, I’d hoped you’d had that already figured out.” —
“Your...eggs,” you stammered, pointing to where the scrambled eggs were beginning to char.
“Fuckin’ hell!” he all but screeched, pushing himself away from you and scrambling to the stove.
— "Mi amor! I’ve come to a decision. I am really, truly in love with your crazy ass!” —
You jumped off the countertop, reaching around him to grab a pair of plates and coffee mugs from the cupboard and setting them out for him. Your heart was still racing as you poured yourself a cup of coffee and turned away from him, hiding the blush that had painted itself onto your cheeks.
“I hope you don’t mind extra crispy and…” Bucky groaned, chiseling off the rest of the eggs onto a plate, “...burnt.”
You chuckled, pouring him a cup and sliding it across the counter, still trying to steady your heartbeat and breathing, “I think I’ll stick with just coffee this morning.”
He sighed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his coffee, “I think you might be on to something.”
A grin appeared on your face, you pushed the trashcan over to him and he begrudgingly scraped all of the breakfast into it. It all landed in the bottom of the can with a loud ‘thunk’, earning another laugh from you.
“It’s not funny, (F/N),” Bucky said, rubbing his face as he followed you into the living room and dove into the couch.
“It’s a little bit funny,” you giggled as he took your hand and pulled you down to sit next to him.
The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, and your attention turned to the TV where the local reporter was just finishing up the weather report.
“I still can’t believe you were up there,” he said quietly as the newscast switched to a recap of the destruction of Novi Grad.
“Neither can I,” you whispered, watching for the first time as the city was torn from the earth, “I didn’t even realize the damn thing was flying ‘til Barton said somethin’ about it.”
Bucky scoffed, rolling his mug through his hands, “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” you shrugged with a smile, earning another laugh from him as you took another sip of your coffee before the next segment of the newscast made you choke, “Oh, fuck.”
(F/N) blanched as the newscast continued. Bucky’s gaze flicked from her to the TV and his face fell.
“In addition to the Avengers' two new members, eyewitnesses say there was a third, unknown Avenger in the fight,” the reporter said before the screen switched to blurry footage.
A figure burst out of an apartment building. Their face partially concealed by a dark scarf and hood. The video stayed trained on the figure until a rumble shook the camera and seconds later a gunfight broke out between it and a swarm of robots.
— Желание Longing —
— The soldier stood between them and the rest of his team. He slowly moved his head to look at each of them before nodding to his team and they disappeared into the shadows. —
— “Go, I got this.” —
— Ржавый Rusted —
Bucky blinked, an ache forming at the back of his head.
The figure jumped between a civilian and a robot. It took most of the blow and turned on the robot almost immediately, downing it in seconds.
— Семнадцать Seventeen —
— “What do they call it?” —
— “Привидение.” Ghost —
— Рассвет Daybreak —
Bucky stifled a groan, his eyes fluttering slightly as he lost focus for a moment.
“After careful research, traces of this Vanishing Vigilante can also be found in the Battle of New York,” the reporter continued as more blurry images and videos of a person fighting aliens on the rooftops of New York flashed across the screen.
— Печь Furnace —
— The sniper stood silhouetted against the compound’s bright lights before he seemingly disappeared, like a ghost, into the pandemonium. —
— Девять Nine —
A figure sprinted against the sea of people that were surging away from the destruction caused by attacking aliens. It was a blur against the crowd, only pausing a moment to fire on advancing aliens and even then it moved too fast to make out a face.
— Доброкачественный Benign —
“Even after extensive interviews with Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark, both refuse to name this Phantom Hero…”
Bucky shook his head, flexing his fingers as they became numb.
— Возвращение на родину Homecoming —
— “I want it, you’re going to get it for me.” —
— Один One —
His eyes were just about to roll to the back of his head when a warm hand landed on his and it launched him out of his mind. (F/N)’s fingers gripped his as if her life depended on it. Her face was gaunt with wide eyes that stared into the screen with a murderous glare.
“All we can really say to this Anonymous Avenger is, thank you, whoever you are.”
Bucky took a deep breath, squeezing her hand lightly as her face softened. (F/N) scoffed, her usual laidback composure returning to her body.
“Well…” she forced a chuckle, “That’s not good.”
The half-assed smile she had plastered on her face disappeared and her brows furrowed as she chewed on her cheek.
He sighed, changing his grip from her hand to her wrist, he tugged her into him.
“Definitely, not what I wanted to start my day with,” she murmured, still trying to keep her cool, “That’s just...just…”
She trailed off. He pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Not...good,” she sighed, slumping, defeated, against him.
You’d panicked, to say the least. You had tried so hard, for so long, to stay under the radar and now...now images of you were being flashed across national news.
The instant you had seen yourself burst across the screen your blood ran cold and a nauseous feeling ate at your stomach. Your hands were trembling and your breathing began to stutter.
- “Listen to me, and listen to me good, Lieutenant,” Weston said, glaring up at you from his leather chair, “Nobody sees you. Nobody knows you. You don’t exist. You’re no good to me if anyone knows who you are, are we clear?” -
— "Yes, sir.” —
— “And what do we call anyone that gets close you?” —
— “A security risk, sir.” —
— “And what do we do with security risks?” —
— “Eliminate them, sir.” —
— “And if we don’t?” —
— “Then I’m the security risk, sir.” —
— “And what do we do with security risks, Lieutenant?” —
— “Eliminate them, sir.” —
You had tried to hide your emotions, but worry was smeared across your face.
“Take a deep breath, doll,” Bucky said calmly, tucking you into his side, “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”
You wondered if this is how he felt when his face was plastered across the news.
“Stark and Rogers will keep ‘em off your back,” he soothed, reaching over to click off the TV, “And if they fuck up, then you got me. And I won’t let anybody hurt you, I promise.”
You laughed lightly, the anxiety biting at the back of your mind easing off for the time being. Bucky mirrored the grin that was growing on your face as you looked up to him.
“We can run away together,” he said, wagging a brow at you.
“That sounds lovely,” you smiled, relaxing against him and the couch, “Where would we go?”
“Anywhere,” he whispered.
“We can run away together,” he said, wagging a brow at her which earned himself another laugh.
— “Come with me,” she said, barely above a whisper as another blast echoed and she took his hand. —
— “Нет.” No —
— “Ты моя миссия.” You’re my mission —
— “Пожалуйста?” she stuttered, taking another step away from him. Please? —
Bucky frowned, resting his chin on (F/N)’s head as he pulled her tighter.
“That sounds lovely,” she smiled, “Where would we go?”
— “I want the Ghost, do you understand me, солдат?” the white-haired man hissed. Neon lights flashed behind him as he looked out the window into the busy streets below, “And I want it now.” —
“Anywhere,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to rid himself of the images that were swirling through his head.
— The sniper stood silhouetted against the compound’s bright lights before he seemingly disappeared, like a ghost, into the pandemonium. —
— The Ghost threw himself through the window and to the streets below, taking off into traffic. —
— She took off down the hall, trying to get away from him. Before she was out of reach, he managed to grab a fistful of her hair. He pulled her backward. —
— “I want it now. Bring it to me.” —
— Товарный вагон Freight Car —