Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Scavenger Hunt

Warnings - wound descriptions, kidnapping, ransom notes, topics of abuse, Steve being a dick, major angst
*LONG CHAPTER*

Steve tries to push open the door, the snow inside the crease sticking, and his partially numb fingers having a slightly hard time trying to wrap themselves around the frozen over knob to even twist it. He groans as he shoves his shoulder into the door, the brightness from outside blinding him from how dark it is inside the room the two of you are sharing at the moment.

But that didn't mean he didn't recognize how quiet it was. He groans in annoyance when he realizes you're in the bathroom, probably wasting all the hot water. Again.

The mission has ran on too long because of the storm. The blizzard that has hit has caused everything to close, and the jet won't be in condition to fly back for thirteen hours since the weather is only getting worse.

Steve doesn't know how he got stuck with you for three days, but it has been the worst three days in his life. Your comments have been straight to him being an asshole, how he takes up too much space, and if he even takes a step, he's too loud. He knows he can't saying to you, because you don't have much of a luggage in the first place, it being much smaller than what he had thought you would pack.

Compared to him, you're tiny. He can pick you up with one hand and toss you across the room if he wanted to. He has before, just to show his power over you. But he gets annoyed by just your voice, how you talk to him with nothing but venom when he walks into a room. You give him the cold shoulder, and he reciprocates it.

He moves more into the room with slugging attempts to close the door against the wind, immediately locking it and sliding the towel underneath the door. He doesn't see the blood stained on the carpet due to his eyes not being adjusted yet.

"Y/N," he groans as he peels his jacket off, revealing the heavy sweater beneath. The bag full of food is placed on the table, his eyes slowly growing accustomed to the dimly lit room he is staying in with you. "Get the hell out of the shower before I throw you outside." The threat is easily slipping off his lips as he toes his shoes off, walking over to the heater. It's off. "Damn it, Y/N, you turned the heat off," he mutters.

Minutes go by, and he is growing more and more angered the longer you take to get out of the bathroom, his legs moving to keep the blood flowing. And then he realizes it. It's too quiet, the bed is made, and your things are gone.

"Y/N?" Steve wasn't one to panic quickly, but he finds himself walking to the bathroom door, turning the cold knob and pushing it open. Empty. "Y/N?" He shouts, now moving around the hotel room to look for anything out of place. The table.

Your weapons are scattered on the floor underneath the table, with a pile of blood he had accidentally stepped in. He hadn't thought to look down, or check why it was so fucking quiet, but he moves again, slipping on his boots and racing out to the jet to make sure you hadn't gone there for cover.

The wind hits his head harshly as he waits for the door to open, hands immediately touching his body to warm himself. When he finally gets on, he doesn't find you or any of your things. Only more blood, and a note. He grabs the communication device off the dashboard and closes the doors, breathing heavily as he tries to get back to the tower. No signal.

Steve curses under his breath and looks down at the puddle of blood, realizing how much it was, added to the one in the hotel. You put up a fight, broke the communicator, and was still taken all while he was gone. This was planned.

Once back inside, he has all the lights turned on, not even realizing how dark it was until he is back inside. He finally sees the blood stain on the floor, droplets leading to the bathroom and in the sink. Another note.