Friends with Fire // Bucky x Oc (Discontinued For Now)

• 5 •

I step out of the car but before I can even look at the building I’ve been brought to my head gets whacked and everything goes black. The throb of my temples wakes me up and I squint as I slowly open my eyes.

I tense, realizing I’m in a closed room, and swiftly look around. One of the walls is glass, and the others are made of concrete. Unpopular to what one might expect, I don’t go to the glass wall first, I walk to one of the concrete walls and run my hand along every inch of it. This takes about five minutes and I move on to the next concrete wall, then the next one, before stopping at the glass wall.

I can already tell that there are a handful of very thick layers of glass and that I can’t easily get through any of them. I still haven’t found the door into this cell but the single air vent on the ceiling is hard to miss. I know I can’t remove it, or fit my way through the thin spaces but there’s still room for ideas.

“Hello, Ms. Brantley.”

I slowly turn, my eyes landing on Tony Stark, standing on the other side of the glass wall. “Hello,” I respond politely, walking over to stand on the other side of the glass wall.

“Are you in the mood to be cooperative now?” he asks, his tone patronizing.

I give him a deadpan stare. “Not with that attitude,” I reply in disdain.

Stark clenches his hands into fists and steps right against the glass, his breath fogging it slightly. “Where is Jackson?” he asks, his tone steely.

I stare at him for a long time before deciding to answer. “You won’t like what I have to say.”

“Tell me,” he snaps.

“Why?” I snap back.

“Because I need to know. I don’t care if I dislike what you say, just tell me!” he exclaims, starting to reveal how desperate he is.

“Why is it so important?” I ask, my voice dropping.

Stark tenses and watches me, seeming to struggle with whether he wants to answer or not. “He meant a lot to me.”

“Not just you though, right?” I ask, trying to get more out of him.

He looks away, his jaw clenching. “No. He meant a lot to all of us.”

Well crap. I let out a breath. “My boss told me he was my next target… He’s dead,” I say softly.

“He... he’s dead?” Stark asks, his face slack with grief.

“I was told to kill him, not who he was,” I say, confused about why I’m trying to defend myself.

“Who do you work for?” a different voice asks.

I glance over and watch as the famed Mr. Stars and Stripes himself walks into view. “Why would I tell you that?”

He glances somewhere I can’t see and motions someone over. “Hello Reese,” George sneers, walking up to the glass.

I tense and my eyes narrow. “What did you tell them?” I ask, my voice even.

“Oh, you know. This and that,” George says vaguely, waving a hand.

I notice that both of the Avengers seem uncomfortable with George. “That’s not awfully specific, George,” I murmur, aware that if I tempt him enough he’ll tell me.

“Well…” he murmurs slowly. I have to hide a smile, knowing he’s about to spill. “I told them a little about Olivia, a little about you, and a little about why I decided to help them,” he says with a shrug, glancing at the two Avengers.

“Can’t you be a little more specific?” I ask, willing my good luck to last.

George lets out an exasperated sigh but I can tell he’s enjoying himself. “They know some about the orphanage, some about the organization, and some about the fact that you’re dangerous,” he says, giving me an innocent smile.

“Dangerous in what sense?” I ask, starting to get nervous.

“Oh, the assassin stuff mostly. And that you’re quite flammable.”

I tense and take a deep breath to steady myself. “Is that all?” I ask.

“Enough,” Stark snaps, cutting George off. 

George gives him a disgusted look. “I wasn’t finished,” he snaps, turning sharply to face him.

“Yes. You are finished,” Stark responds sharply.

My eyebrows rise slightly. No one’s ever put him in his place like that before. I suppress a snort at the incredulous look on George’s face. “I haven’t finished talking to her!” George exclaims.

“Well, I’m in charge here, and I say that you’re done talking to her,” Stark snaps. He motions to someone and two people with lightweight combat gear walk over and stand on either side of George.

“I will not be escorted out of here!” George exclaims.

“It’s either you walk, or I have them carry you,” Stark says seriously.

George, still with an offended look on his face, glances at me. I smirk and wave tauntingly as the guards grab his upper arms and steer him away. “What was the point of bringing him down here?” I ask, turning to Stark.

“Stark,” Rogers murmurs, his tone a warning.

I give him a slow look. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you were trying to get more information out of me,” I say, glancing between the two.

“You’re dangerous and we don’t know much, if anything, about you,” Rogers responds with a shrug.

“Then you better start figuring things out. The less you know the more dangerous it makes me,” I murmur with a smirk.