This Is Stella's Reality

March 11, 2015 PT. 2

I wanted to scream, but fear held me in a chokehold as my feet carried me faster than I had ever ran before. Steve followed me back to the quinjet, abandoning the Cleveland home we had come for.

The quinjet was still where we had left it. Eerie silence plagued the air around us. Steve's hand gripped my wrist a few meters before the entrance to the jet. He gave me a look of warning. I knew he was right to be cautious. My emotions had taken me this far, but we needed to analyze the situation.

Steve stepped in front of me, holding his shield at the ready. Gently, we tip-toed onto the metal grated flooring. I trembled with anticipation, and my fingers clutched Steve's elbow for support.

There was nobody here.

It was utterly empty.

My whole body froze like ice, and I do not remember thinking anything other than what horrors Bucky had faced in our absence.

Tears fell from my eyes, and I sobbed. Steve turned to me and held me in his strong arms. I collapsed against him. "He shouldn't have come," I said weakly. Steve's fingers brushed through my hair. He didn't say anything. He likely didn't know what to say.

I was afraid to touch his thoughts. Afraid of his anger and vengeful mind. His depression. His wrath. But this hands were soft as they smoothed my hair in an effort to calm me down. It would not work. I felt sick to my stomach. Acid burned my throat, and I hiccuped from my sobs.

A gunshot echoed in the nearby forest, and Steve and I flew to our feet. He dragged me out of the quinjet and into the trees. We crashed through branches, following the direction birds and squirrels ran from. Miraculously, my feet kept up with Steve and his super soldier speed.

I felt as if my heart would explode. Bucky stood over a slew of bodies. Blood matted his hair and caked his skin. I had never been so happy to see him.

"Buck?" Steve said carefully. I hesitated. My elation faltered for a moment.

He turned towards us, exhaustion heaved in his chest. He laughed, "Took you two long enough." I eased again and ran into his arm. He caught me easily and walked back towards Steve. The three of us embraced again, blood soaked through my clothing.

I pulled away, gasping, "Are you hurt?" He grinned and shook his head, pulling me back to his chest. Our hearts were hammering together like race horses, but my mind eased as my two boys held me close to the safety of their steady arms.

A familiar mechanical whirl echoed in the sky above us. Tony's Iron Man suit was gliding towards the ground followed by a quinjet with, presumably, the rest of the team inside. We should have known we would be followed.

His voice was loud over the speaker, "You guys threw a party and didn't invite us?" He was joking, but not entirely. There was something in his tone, an exhausted annoyance that plagued a lot of his words. But he had never used that tone with me. Uneasiness flooded through me again. Our short lived reprieve ended. We did not have Bucky's book, and SHIELD had sent the rest of the team to reprimand us.

Steve stepped forward, shielding Bucky and I. "What are you doing here, Tony?"

He laughed, "Well, you know." He waved his hand, "You stole a quinjet, kidnapped your boy-toy and his girlfriend, and killed a slew of SHIELD agents." Tony's helmet flew from his face, and he looked at us with grief in his eyes. "We have orders to bring you in or shoot on site. SHIELD put warrants out for your arrests, so you better start talking."

"Who gave those orders?" I questioned.

"Carter," Tony answered.

"SHIELD is compromised," Steve began. "We came here to get the Winter Soldier's book. To destroy it. But the man that had it is already dead. SHIELD or Hydra, of both, killed him before we arrived. The book is gone."