Chapter Text
Shots fill the air, I'm next to Daredevil crouching down behind some random beat up box.
“Cholera.” I curse in Polish, one of my favorite languages to curse in. I can sense Daredevil's irritation with the whole situation, trying to figure out what to do.
Daredevil gives me a look, I read it out to be a I'm going to do something, so cover me. Kind of look. I return him a look that means, Do what you want, which earns me a roll of eyes.
He raises his hand, one finger goes up, then the next and suddenly I lift myself off the ground and hoist up my gun, returning the favor to the men. In my peripheral vision I see Daredevil running towards a guy behind a pillar, hitting him in the head in one swift motion.
Focused on the shooting, I lose sight of Daredevil. Although I wouldn't really care much I hear a loud BANG followed by a shout, which makes my senses go wild.
I kneel down to regain my focus and look around me. I see Daredevil's legs laying flat on the dirty floor, blood pooling around him a bit too much for my comfort. The whole place is surrounded by these traffickers, making it impossible to get out of here without having a couple of holes in my body.
I look over at Daredevil again, and thankfully his hands twitch the slightest bit. A sign of life was all I needed to get up and shoot strategically at the men, taking down more than one but still leaving plenty.
Right before I was about to risk myself completely to hopefully get out of here with Daredevil, somebody dropped down from the roof.
Holy shit.
~An hour earlier~
“So you're good on the plan?” Daredevil asks me in a voice that is suspiciously similar to a way you talk to a child.
I give him a small grunt as a response, while I go over the plan 30 times to make sure there are no holes to it. Call it the only comfort mechanism Hydra let me use. I suppress a shudder from the thoughts of what they would do to me if I were to fiddle with my fingers.
We are currently sitting on a roof, a very dirty and wet one might I add. There is only a chair here, and a door, but other than that, nothing. It almost makes me sad to think about. I think back to my time in Hydra, when I was lonely in my dark and cold room.
Across from this building is the traffickers warehouse, which is the most important thing. Not thinking about a silly chair on this rooftop, comparing it to me. I am grateful for there to be a building right next to the traffickers place. It is not unusual for there to be a 20 minute walk to a building I have to complete a mission in.
At Least here we have a solid view of the people inside.
While thinking about it, it's been a while since I've had a proper fight. I almost miss it, which is a thought I immediately blur out of my mind. I do not miss anything from Hydra.
Daredevil sighs as the rain, which was already pouring pretty heavily, starts to pour down even more forceful than before. It's almost fitting that the day we are going to beat down this shit warehouse it's all rainy and gloomy. That must mean something good is going to come out of this, right?
I double check my firearms, my knives that are in my waistband, and where my backups are. This earns me a snort from Daredevil.
I look over at him hoping he gets my ‘What the fuck do you want?’ look.
Fortunately he does, “Didn't take you, Mr. Oh- So-Dark-And-Mysterious, to be paranoid.” The first thought I have when he says this is to punch him in the face, but the second is what if this guy isn't properly trained? Only fools wouldn't have the tiniest bit of anxiety in them before a fight. Even trained agents and assassins, like me, are taught to always check your equipment before a fight and to never be too cocky or else you've practically jinxed yourself. Being cocky is what gets you killed.
I would propose to train him but this is a one time thing; connection leads to death. Something the Men in Black always told me, with friendship you get vulnerable and easy to manipulate.
That is why Bucky left.
Instead of replying to his foolish comment I reach for my grappling hook to give to Daredevil and stand up. Enough time has been spent waiting.
I look at the window facing us; you could catch a small glimpse of a white powder, along with terrified women tied up and men looking at them in a way I never want to see again. This all brings back memories I'd rather forget.
I take a deep breath in and motion for Daredevil to get ready, and he immediately complies.
I steady myself and aim my wrists to the building, firing my webs that cause a small shwoop sound. I hold on tight and let myself get pulled toward the building, Daredevil right behind me. I am truly glad that I didn't need to teach him how to do that.
We land on the side of the building, only a few feet off the ground so that we could easily jump off.
I turn towards him and start to sign to him. I realize that he might not know sign language. I mentally cursed and looked at him, hoping that he understood what I meant.
It seems like he understood what I meant, because soon enough he moved his hands into a sentence.
“Ok, you go to the right, I'll be on the left, break in when I give you the sign alright?” He asks, I nod and start moving to the right side of the building, my hand already having a gun in it.
I wasn't expecting that right when we bust through those warehouse doors we would be caught up in an ambush, they knew Daredevil was coming. I don't think specifically with me but they knew someone was coming. Daredevil isn't entirely known to be working with other vigilantes.
And with that we got into this fucking chaos of gunshots.
Man, I missed this adrenaline so much.
~Back to the present~
Bucky.
I didn't even have to look at his face, I knew just from the stance that it was him.
My Brother
I freeze, what was he doing here? Will I have to fight him too or is he here to help? What if Hydra captured him and made him come after me, made me another mission for him to complete?
Bucky raises an Sa80 rifle which was all black and his preferred firearm, good for sniping and somewhat up close fighting when used properly. He immediately begins shooting down each of the men, with a loud thud each time.
Once he seemed satisfied with himself and his work, he turned around to scan the area. Which first lands on Daredevil's body, then me.
And for that split second you could see astonishment, pure amazement of my existence, then he got anxious. It was obvious that he was trying to hide it, but with my experience with him it was too easy to read his expression.
I lifted my small gun, aimed for right in between his two ribs covering his heart. Bucky followed the same movement, having it steady on me, watching me, ready to pull the trigger at any second.
While moving out from behind the torn up box, Bucky was looking me up and down still trying to piece together what the fuck was going on.
I yearn to just run to him and break down into a bunch of questions. Why did he leave me in Hydra? Why would he one day act like my brother and the next leave me without a word?
But I can't do that. No right now when he's pointing a gun back at me.
As I move closer to him, my hand not fully prepared to pull the trigger if needed,
I open my mouth to speak, but then close it again like a fish trying to get more water into its mouth.
Instead he speaks for me,
“Are you under control, Pyotr?” He asks in Russian.
“Are you?” I reply back to him.
And even with this, neither of the guns move down.
At some point both of them are an arms width away, both guns raised right next to each other. We stare at each other, neither of us wanting to back down.
So instead of backing down I reached out for his gun using my hand that didn't have the gun pointing at him, which seemed to be a bit too predictable for Bucky because he did the same thing, leading to the exact same position we were in just with switched guns.
Great.
Even though I could stand here waiting for him to make a move, I moved away my hand that had his gun in it and pulled my gun away from his hand, leading his body towards me, giving me the opportunity to kick him in the gut.
While I was hoping for the impossible, that he would just keel over and give up, he inevitably held onto my arms, twisting me the other way and smacking my head against the pillar that the guy Daredevil took down was hiding behind.
I sprinted backwards, smushing Bucky in between me and another pillar. How does that feel? I think in my head, knowing that if I were to say it out loud a lot more trouble would come from it rather than satisfactory.
Bucky released a grunt, almost making my lip tilt up.
I hope he feels the pain I felt when he left me.
From behind, Bucky strangles me and pushes my forward over the
torn up box which was a bit higher than my waist, and when I'm pushed into this dumbass box I remember about my knife hidden in between my belt.
Silently, I'm thankful for my beforehand thinking.
Like always Bucky figures out my next move before I even start doing it, so he quickly moves me on top of the uncomfortable box I yelp and suddenly I get pinned down with all his body weight on my shoulders.
“Stay down Soldat, stay down.” Bucky demands, I struggle beneath his grip, the torn up box with splinters not helping my case.
Instead of staying down, I do exactly the opposite. I've never been the one to easily follow someone's commands. (Which Hydra beat out of me, but fuck them.)
With my spider flexibility, I reach for the knife and smoothly but quickly pull it out and stab Bucky in the shoulder, not really caring about the pain it'll cause him because in Hydra, we've given each other much worse than some silly ol’ stab wounds.
With the knife's handle, I push him up and off of me, throwing him towards a pillar that makes a crunchy sound and crumbles quite a bit when Bucky's full body force gets hit into it.
Both of us slowly got up from where we were once laying, keeping our eyes locked onto each other's bodies, not wanting to be hit unexpectedly.
I slowly turn my body towards the discarded gun on the ground near the torturing box, still maintaining eye contact with him, he rather quickly catches on to what i'm about to do so he makes a dash for me.
And I guess he made a new add-on to his costume because he pulls out what seems to be a baton.
I sigh in annoyance, and pull up the gun, aiming it at Bucky. But before I could get a shot in, he raised his baton and smacked my wrist, making a loud pop sound crack into the air. My gun hits the ground with a smack.
I dont scream, nor do I cry, I instead reach out with my other non-dislocated hand and pull the baton towards me, twisting it so that Bucky's arm is forced to twist along with it, making him fall to the ground.
He got hold of my ankle and pulled me to the ground with him, forcing us to fight on the ground that was cold and damp with blood.
Man, what an ass.
Before I could spout any insults at him he kicked me in the ribs, so instead all I could do was groan in pain. I know from experience that having bruised ribs is not a good time.
I scan around the area, looking for anything that I could use for leverage. I see a long piece of cloth, somewhat similar to the shape of a curtain. I try to reach for it but it rewards me another punch in the ribs, making the already aching pain a lot worse.
Rather than giving him the satisfaction of a reaction, I bring up both of my legs and kick off his chest, pushing me towards the curtain that I can now easily reach.
Swiftly, I pull myself up, wincing from the unexpected pain it would cause me. My hands slowly wrapped themselves around the long curtain, giving me more control over it. I groan from the pain of my dislocated hand, I have to fix that.
I quickly pull on the opposite hand, forcing the other one to pop right back into place.
I shiver, the feeling of popping back my bones never sat quite right with me. It was sort of like when you crack your neck without meaning to, not a pleasant feeling.
Bucky seems to notice what I'm doing, so he raises himself off of the floor and prepares himself to fight.
Surprising myself, I run straight towards him, and when he realizes that I wont stop, he turns to shield himself, which is exactly what I want.
I jump up onto his shoulders, wrapping my legs around him and squeezing before covering his neck with the curtain, pulling as hard as I can to hopefully make this guy pass out.
But all I receive is a hard fall on the ass when Bucky just falls backwards, however I don't let this bring me down. My feet try to go on his shoulders but Bucky just pulls them forward, making me be in front of him on the floor, my back facing him.
Shit, this is not the position I want to be in if I want to be alive.
I turn, meeting Bucky's pained face in front of me. It's been a while since I've actually seen his face, I see two new scars on his face. One on his eyebrow, causing the illusion of an eyebrow slit, and one on his cheekbone.
I wonder what happened, is he alright? Did he properly treat his wounds? Maybe he was going through a rough time as well? Maybe- No.
No, nope, I will not think about his betrayal right now. Not the time.
So rather than having a heart to heart with Bucky, I close the curtain around his neck, putting my feet up on his chest for an extra pull.
Bucky chokes out a breath, and I can see true fear in his eyes.
This makes me both hesitant and happy.
Fortunately though, Bucky taps out.
I let go, flopping myself onto the ground in a starfish position, my chest going up and down rapidly. I don't have to look over to know that that's exactly what Bucky is doing too.
After a solid two minutes, Bucky speaks up,
“You've grown.” He comments in Bulgarian.
“No shit.” I reply back, getting to my feet again and heading towards Daredevil, almost completely forgetting about him.
And Bucky must've forgotten that I had super hearing because he just said some very crude comments under his breath. I almost made a comment about it but just then I saw Daredevil's body.
There was a large pool of blood underneath his body, and some short wheezes coming out each time he exhaled.
I wince and go to pick him up, but Bucky of course protests.
“You can't take him.” Bucky argued, but I rolled my eyes and picked up Daredevil anyway. A small groan came from the body but I didn't think much of it. Daredevil is definitely used to this kind of pain, judging by the scars I saw on his back.
Bucky senses that I don't care about what he has to say so instead he helps me carry Daredevil out, silently i'm thankful about that.
After a very long and painful silence with only our grunts from the weight of Daredevil's body filling the void, Bucky breaks it because he always does.
“So are we going to talk like adults?” He asks, and I almost go for the ‘What? Sorry I didn't hear you.’ way out of this because if we're being honest with ourselves, neither of us really wanna talk about it.
“Is that what we are?” Ah yes, the tedious question as an answer reply.
Bucky stays quiet which makes me want to believe that he'll let everything go and we could just go on with carrying Daredevil in peace.
As we walk a bit further I see a perfect little rock just to the right of me, it looks a bit too peaceful so I kick it away from me, giving myself a small nod when it rolls frantically away from me.
“How did you get out?” The integration starts.
“They slipped up, made some kind of explosion that left me with a hole in my cell. Decided it was my chance and so I took it. I was preparing to escape after they…” I drift off, not knowing if I should tell Bucky or not, I decide not too.
“I had to fight a couple of the Men in Black but they were mostly preoccupied with the lab explosions and figuring out what was happening. Eventually I found a hole that led to the outside, I ran for days. I hit a highway at some point with a truck that was heading to the city, so I took it.” I shrug to indicate the ending of my story.
“Do they know where you are?”
“Nah, if they did they would have already taken me back.” Or killed me, is what I didn't say, but we both knew it was implied.
“Where are you staying?”
“Some alleyway up on North.”
“Hmm…” Was the very informative answer I got back. I knew he was thinking of taking me into the tower, even though we both know that that would lead to catastrophe.
Rather than trying to make conversation, both of us decide to let it be and help Daredevil as soon as possible.
As we walk down the stairs I hear a knocking at a door maybe 4 levels beneath us, obviously Bucky and Daredevil didn't hear this (courtesy of my super hearing) so when I put my hand up in a ‘Stop’ sign me and Bucky made for our previous missions, he listened.
I continue to listen, only hearing a small “Hi.”. After a couple minutes of not hearing anything else, I decide it's clear.
Still, I pay attention to my surroundings a bit more than before.
We leave through the back door of the building, leading us into a dark alleyway. Looking into this alleyway made me realize just how much time has passed, it's almost completely dark out and there's a couple rats huddled around a garbage container.
“What are we going to do with him?” Bucky asks. Usually we patch ourselves up, never actually been taken out before. In this case, Daredevil is completely out of it, leading us to no choice but to fix him up ourselves.
“Let's put him on the ground, I have a small aid kit with me, so that'll have to do.” I mumble the last part out, preoccupied with finding the kit.
The only reply was a short hum, Bucky goes to kneel down by Daredevil, attending as many wounds as he can without the aid kit. I came down on my knees right beside Daredevil's stomach, he got a pretty bad shot in the gut. Luckily, it did not hit any organs, so the work will be much quicker and simpler than originally thought.
The shot didn't go through, meaning I have to dig it out.
Great.
Hopefully Daredevil won't wake up halfway.
I grab the pair of long tweezers and stretch open the wound a bit with my index and middle finger. A small gushing sound comes out when I first insert the tweezers, moving so steadily and focused that the only noise you could hear is the squelching of blood.
After lightly digging around, I found the bullet. I let out a sigh of relief, now all I have to do is take it out and show him up which is smooth sailing to me.
After I finish with attending to his gunshot wound, I look over at Bucky. Unexpectedly he was looking at me with something in his eyes that I can't quite put my finger on.
“What?” I ask, being too tired to play a guessing game.
Bucky shakes himself out of it, “Nothing.” He mutters quietly, like he wasn't actually saying that and it was just automatic.
I lean back, hoping a wall will catch my back. It did, letting me rest for just a minute before Bucky, of course, had to interrupt the peace.
“What are you doing, Pyotr?” He asks in Russian, showing that he really does mean it, that it's not one of those light conversation starters but more of a ‘Open up to me’ type question. He's looking at me with those sympathetic eyes.
“I do not need your pity nor your help.” I reply back, my Russian accent finally being let free. With Bucky I don't have to worry about who I am, I don't have to act all tough or all nice. I miss it.
A sigh, “You know asking for help isn't wrong. Don't you remember what I taught you?”
I scoff, “Yeah because when you left me all alone in that fucking cage you were helping me oh so much.” I roll my eyes, what right does he have to say he can help me when he leaves me? What about the help I needed when they were torturing me because of their mistakes, because he left.
“Come on Pyotr, you know I had to leave. I couldn't just-”
“Whatever, it doesn't matter.” I shake my head, a silent warning not to get into this in a random alleyway.
I stand up, dusting my knees off.
“I can carry him to his apartment, you go back to your friends.” I say, not entirely a command but there wasn't much of a choice.
Grabbing onto Daredevil I put my wrist up, ready to swing when Bucky interrupts me.
“Pyotr, you know I'll always be here for you.” And with just that, I know that he still cares. It took a bit more than a year for Bucky to just say ‘fine i'll take care of you.’, this is a lot. I need to leave. I need to leave right now.
I look back at him, trying not to let my emotions get the best of me.
“I know.” I swing off into the distance, balancing Daredevil in my arms. I followed him home when we met at the bar, making sure he wasn't secretly a Hydra agent. He seemed like a normal enough person, besides the obvious trauma he has. I really have to ask him about the mobility cane too.
~Bucky~
What the fuck.
That was my first thought when Pyotr left with Daredevil in his arms, effortlessly flying through the air.
I shake my head for what seems like a thousand time today, trying to understand what happened today.
After a couple minutes of just standing there, I turn on the balls of my feet and start walking back to the tower, they're going to have so many questions. Internally I facepalm, thinking of things to say to the team without sounding like a lying jerk.
I know that the majority of the team wouldn't know if i'm lying or not but Natasha and Steve? They're going to figure it out immediately.
After maybe a 15-20 minute walk I reach the doors of the tower.
Do I really wanna go in?
Standing there. Just thinking about what im going to do. Right in front of the tower doors. And then I realize how crazy I must look to people just walking by, so I walk into the tower.
You would think that there's a lot of security in this Avengers Tower, but no. I can just walk straight in without any complications.
Inside the elevator there's some stupid music, Tony insists on it because ‘There's never any elevator music anymore.” and for that reason, and that reason only, we have it. Which in some cases is nice but when having a mental breakdown and you just really wanna get away from everyone, it isn't.
The elevator dings, signaling that it's my stop.
Oh God.
Immediately after the doors open I'm surrounded by everyone, questions coming at me left and right.
The only questions I can actually hear is “Why did you take so long?” “It was meant to be a quick thing.” “Is that blood on you?” so I decided to answer those first.
“So funny thing, I actually just had to stop a robbery. I went and then it was these idiots in masks that resembled you guys and so I obviously stepped in, they were just the classic robbers. Anyway one of them accidentally shot the other when I dodged the bullet and so I carried him to the hospital doors before I left, felt bad.” I stand there waiting for their reaction to this amazing story I just came up with.
Clint seemed to have accepted it, turning his back slowly to move away, Tony really didn't care but he acted like it so that Steve wouldn't be annoyed at him, Bruce started looking across my body, trying to see if i have any injuries, Steve seemed like he was on the edge of ‘is this the truth or a lie?’, and of course Natasha had a deadpan face that said ‘I know you're a liar and I'm going to get it out of you because it does not take that long to stop a robbery.’, and I can see Harley just sitting on the couch, knowing he'll get the information later on.
I break through the small wall they made, going straight to the kitchen. God did that wear me out.
It's been so long since I've had a mission that was like that, that reminded me of Hydra. Even with Nat it's different, and while the Red Room did work with Hydra at times, it was still a completely different experience.
Steve catches up to me, “Are you ok?” he whispers.
“Yeah, why ask?” I ask, feeling insanely guilty about the lie but he can't know yet. I need to figure out what to do about Pyotr and then tell the team. They wouldn't understand.
Steve shakes his head, “You just seemed a bit shaken up.” He passes me one of the protein bars in our pantry.
“Thanks.” I whispered, the truth is that I am shaken up. Even if Pyotr thinks that I don't care about him anymore, I do. I've missed him, and I can't help but feel guilty for leaving him.
I tried, I really did. When I realized everything about Hydra I promptly went to the base me and Pyotr were staying at, only to find the whole place cleaned out.
I also can't help but think about what Pyotr said, something about what was about to happen right before he escaped. Knowing what they did to me, and what they were going to do could have been anything. What if Pyotr went through things even I haven't been through? I know he got the spider bite but did he get anything else? Did he get the words putten into him?
Steve had a concerned look on his face, shit I definitely did not mask my emotions, I need to go to my room.
Pushing past Steve, I beeline to my room.
Once I close the door my back immediately falls back onto it, letting me slide down to the floor. I hold my face in my hands, grabbing my hair and lightly tugging just to make sure I don't dissociate.
What am I going to do?