Caught in Storms

A New (Rough) Start

-Emma-
The taxi drive from the airport to the address I was sent feels so damn long and quiet, despite the driver rattling on about the Jets. I've never been much of a sports type of girl, so I just smile politely and nod in all the right places so that he feels like I'm listening. He's the type of guy that doesn't really want someone else's opinion, just to make his known. I've known so many men like that in my life that I'm just used to dealing with it, especially in New York; everyone is really good at sharing opinions but not completely into listening sometimes.
The taxi passes into the Brooklyn area, making a wave of spotty memories come back of walking the streets with my mother, and not much else. There's the occasional memory of the park, which we pass by, but not much else.
While the guy is talking, I take a moment to look over my phone, journal, and the rest of the belongings I have in my backpack. I make sure for the hundredth time that the address Sam sent me is correct, and that I have all my papers and gear checked off that I will need for my new job. I've always been a little bit of a organizer when it comes to important things, except laundry, I HATE doing laundry.
I am sitting in this dirty, scary cab headed towards where I am supposed to meet my brother for this job, excited and anxious as hell at the same time. I feel like I can sense everything different around me from being so excited. I am looking through my text messages from Sam and Director Hill for the umpteenth time to make sure that I am really going to be doing this.
I never thought that this is something I would get the opportunity to do, and yet here I am. I'm in New York, getting ready to find my surrogate brother and his partner to team up for a very selective type of crime fighting team. It's a dream come true! I have been working my ass off since I first enlisted into the military after high school, and now it is finally happening.
I have no idea how things are going to go, all I know is that my brother is connected to one of the most well known groups of people in the world...well, universe now; the Avengers. I keep trying to remind myself of who I am and how I got to this point, feeling like I am dreaming still and I might just wake up back in some form of military barracks or mission hideout.
My name is Emma Wallace, I am a 26 year-old former lieutenant in the United States Army as a dangerous, long-range sniper, hand-to-hand specialist, and kind of a pain in the ass. I've been in firefights, stealth operations, helicopter drops, and much more, becoming highly decorated. There was always an insecurity though of pushing myself harder since I had something to prove. Repressing abusive memories will do that to you sometimes.
I was always getting in trouble too, usually for something connected to my anger and frustration, but never really fully understood why other than a shitty childhood. I guess that is enough though.
I don't remember much from growing up, only scary and large policemen saving me and taking away from something really bad. I have scars up and down my back from something I don't remember too.
It got me into so much trouble sometimes that they really had to keep me occupied with missions or volunteer work to keep me out of trouble.
I eventually met my surrogate brother Sam while on an operation, having to partner with some Air Force operatives in order to get the job done. Sam was one of those people that you just stick by and becomes one of those people you can turn to. After the operation he took me home to his sister and family and I became part of it. He's taken care of me in ways I didn't know was possible. Even after he left the service he was following my exploits and was sending me care packages.
I eventually got to volunteer to help out the people of Asgard settle in their new place, and was granted permission to train with them for awhile as one of their warriors. I even made a good friend, Valkyrie, while I was there that apparently knows my brother and told him about my time there for training, that's when I started getting more and more calls from him about my abilities.
For the last few months I have been receiving calls from my brother Sam to come and join him, seemingly pretty adamant that I was needed to fill this particular role. He said that I would be a perfect fit that that there is no one else he could think of for the job. He already has me lined up to partner with his teammate James, considering we both have similar interests and abilities.
I've been feeling pretty nervous about this whole move to New York, seeing as I am from here in Brooklyn, but do not remember a lot of my early childhood. That's what happens when you spend most of your life in the clutches of druggie parents and get no real concept of anything until you are rescued by police. I was determined not to be like them, so I jumped at the chance to enlist and stay the hell out of trouble. Well...serious trouble.
I finish my thought and the taxi comes to a stop outside of a large, beautiful building in the middle of a Brooklyn street. I step out of the taxi onto the curb in front of the address same sent to my phone, feeling anxious and confused. The building is beautiful and feels a little bit out of place as I look at it from the street. It is a nice large, gorgeous building that looks like it belongs in a different era.
"This doesn't look like any sort of crime fighting headquarters," I say softly to myself, chewing on the inside of my lip as I look up at the massive building and the door. Then again, I don't really know what would constitute as a crime fighting headquarters other than a police office, which this is definitely not going to be that.
I pay the driver, thank him, and he helps me get all of my stuff out of the car before I walk up to the door and knock, but as soon as I touch it, it creaks open slowly but loudly, allowing me to see in, and it sort of looks abandoned.
"Hello?! Sam?"
I walk in carefully and look around, finding a huge open area with a living room and dining space with decorative dark wood columns holding up the second floor and heavy duty dark wood flooring. In the back end is a massive, multicolored stained-glass window that sends colorful, pretty patterns all over the wood flooring as the sun seeps in. I set my duffle and backpack down and walk towards the window, tracing my fingertips along the glass lightly. Through the glass I see a small training area and gun range, and I smile as I peer out at it.
I suddenly feel the need to reach for my gun and I slowly go into the holster that hangs from inside my jacket, then quickly turn with it cocked and ready. The click of my gun and someone else's is really loud in the deadly silent room.
Standing behind me with a handgun pointed at me is a steel-blue-eyed, tall man with a severely angry look. The man has dark brown hair that is cut and shaved short, but it is a tad unkempt. He looks like I might have just woken him up or maybe he was in the middle of working on something when he heard me come in. I can't help but notice how handsome he is, even if he looks really angry with a serious case of resting bitch face. He has a nicely trimmed beard that looks soft and fits his face perfectly along his jaw that looks like it could cut glass.
"Who are you," he demands while glowering deeply at me, a disciplined and deep tone to his voice, his jaw clenching as we point at each other. He has trigger discipline, but he looks like he could squeeze the trigger at any moment if I make the wrong move in his eyes. But goddamn if he's not the most gorgeous man I have ever seen.
"I'm looking for Sam Wilson. You must Sergeant James Barnes, Sam has been telling me all about you since you guys met," I say as I re-holster my gun and put my hand out to him to shake. My hand is shaking a little, worried for about 2.5 seconds that he might have actually shot me if he didn't know at all who I was. Sam talks enough that I'm sure he would have been talking about me somehow, even before this arrangement was made.
Sergeant Barnes breathes out in relief softly and puts his gun away as he takes my hand in a firm grip and shakes it. I can't help but notice he's wearing gloves and I chew my lip as I wonder why. I already know about the vibranium arm, but maybe he feels self-conscious about it. I think it's the coolest thing ever honestly, but I can't tell him that, not yet at least, I have no idea how he would react to that. I don't want to offend my new partner before I've gotten to spend time with him.
"I shudder at that thought of what he has said, to be honest. And you must be Emma, Sam has been going on nonstop about you since we've met too," he says. There's a very stoic tone to his voice that I am not able to fully read, but I like it.
"I wasn't sure when you would be here. I must have forgotten to fully shut the door when I got back. I had to pick up a few things before you got here."
"Yes sir, my plane landed early this morning, and I didn't know Sam talked about me," I blush as the stern look on James' face softens into a warm smile.
"Don't uhh..worry about the 'sir' thing. We don't pull ranks here, you can just call me James or Bucky, so don't expect me to call you 'Lieutenant.' Or 'ma'am.' And Sam should be here any minute, he had a meeting with someone about a mission we are getting ready to handle in a few days," he says, and I notice him look me over curiously.
This man better not be judging me, it's sort of hard to tell from the look in his face as his eyes move up and down on me. I suddenly feel super self conscious as those icy blue eyes rake over me slowly, looking curious and wondering, with maybe a hint of interest. That cannot be right but it's a nice thought.
I'm not the ideal picture of physical prowess and when men look at me it is usually with lack of interest. I am 5'2" with platinum blonde hair, fit and healthy and agile, but am still on the curvy side in the chest and thigh area. I work out hard to try to shed the pounds and tone my body, and I'm not lacking for physical strength, but my body type betrays me.
Bucky seems to sense my anxiety and blushes as he looks at his shoes, "So, Sam tells me you kicked ass in the Army, marksmanship and incredible hand-to-hand. With axes?"
I blush badly and smile, "Uh yeah, one day I found these tactical-type axes in a storage container in the supply room and just decided to try it. I guess it worked for me since I'm smaller. I've been using them ever since and even got to brush up on my skills with them more with the Asgardians. I've done some extensive knife training as well."
"Well I can't wait to see it in action, especially with those axes, I like knives for blades myself. All of your gear was brought in yesterday, and we set up a special work area just for you in here," he says and opens a door to a large room for just our gear and work areas for missions. There are counters with tools hanging on pegboards on the walls, some drawers that look like are holding different types of hardware and gear that might be needed for tech and such.
I see a station that is obviously all of Sam's gear, wing applications and drone parts strewn across the counter. There is also a very clean and organized workstation that must be Bucky's, with different guns and knives carefully nestled on a pegboard on the wall. There are only a few items left on the table, and that's gun cleaning supplies that look like they were just being used. That must have been where he was when I got in. I look next to Bucky's station and see some of my own gear there, waiting to be unpacked and set up.
"Great, I'm excited and nervous to work with you guys. I have a lot to live up to now with the two of you," I smile as I see Sam walk in with his arms outstretched as I turn around.
"Hey, there she is," Sam hollers and he hugs me happily, listing me off the ground and spinning a little before setting me back down.
"Hey, Birdbrain, long time no see! Dude, Falcon becomes Captain America and he doesn't even call his sister to tell her the good news? Shame on you for making me see it on the news," I smile happily and punch him lightly in the arm as I tease him.
"Aaah it's nothin'. And I would have called but you were neck deep in Asgardian warrior training with Valkyrie, which I had to learn from her too by the way."
"Oh don't you give me shit. I'm just glad to hear back from you after 5 years of not hearing anything. At least when you were on the run I knew you were alive. It's great though, you're lucky! Hearing stories about the Howling Commandos I always wanted to be a part of that and fight beside Captain America and his best friend Bucky Barnes. And now I am, just that Captain America is my big brother and the White Wolf is my partner!"
I notice Bucky smile ever so slightly to himself as I get excited about my new job. He bites his bottom lip when I mention the Howling Commandos, a slight blush coming to his cheeks when I say his hero name. It is so weird to see the Winter Soldier blushing, he always seem like such a stoic and hardheaded man. Maybe now that he has had some time to adapt to the future in a healthy way, his more boyish and gentlemanly charms coming to the forefront again. Sam used to really describe him as being a pain in the ass and opinionated. While I'm sure that's still true, there are some things it seems that make this former assassin blush.
"Well that's great, Emma. I'm glad we could help you out. I'm actually going to be partnering you up with Bucky because you guys have similar training and fight styles. Plus the Army connection. Coordination won't be so tough on missions and you guys have the same sort of deadpan humor. Should be fun to listen to during missions."
"I like it," I smile and chew on the inside of my lip nervously, suddenly much more interested in this partnership. I get to partner with the former Winter Soldier, whoa! I'm going to keep saying that because it sometimes really is hard to believe. The only thing that really gives me pause is the odd look Bucky gives me as Sam speaks. I'm not sure if he's angry or flattered, he's so damn stoic sometimes. I find myself hoping really badly that he is checking me out, as the giddy school girl in me keeps blushing and biting her lip every time she looks at him or he looks at her. Smitten already, and it might get me in trouble...I hope.
"We are gonna kick some serious ass," Sam smiles. "Let's get you settled and we will go from there, shorty," he says as he and Bucky grab my bags for me and we head up the stairs. I'm not used to having guys carry my stuff for me. A lot of my squad mates didn't care about chivalry of any kind, so I got used to carrying my own things. Not that I'm complaining, it's just nice to have people actually want to help you. Luckily my teammates are gentlemen, as far as I know.
The guys lead me up the stairs and into a large room, already loaded with things that I had to ship over from the main barracks. The whole room looks like it was just remodeled, with new large empty bookshelves on one wall, a queen mattress up against another, and my own bathroom and closet area. I look in the closet and there is a special set up for my work gear that involves me needing to get changed for missions. There is a small balcony with a lounge chair and table that looks so comfy and inviting. Unfortunately, some of this might not get used since we are supposed to be going to the compound soon anyways.
"Wow, Sam did you have this all redone for me..?"
"Of course I helped, but this is actually Bucky's place. We wanted to make sure you felt comfortable and safe here with us. Especially with the line of work we are in, we all need a place. Now we don't know how long we are going to be here honestly, but because the compound is finally starting to get up and running. Either way, for as long as you're here, this is for you."
"Thanks you guys," I smile and Sam nods. He gives me a side hug but then his phone goes off in his pocket and he quickly leaves the room to answer it, looking a little serious. Bucky smiles and sets my duffel bag down on the bed for me.
"Thank you so much for being so accommodating, I'm sure that this is sort of new to you. Sam said you've been dealing with your mental health."
"Yeah, ever since the Battle of Earth ended and Steve left, I've been having to face some harsh realities, but Sam has been great in helping me. He says that this new chapter will be good for me," Bucky says softly and rubs the back of his head.
"Well I really do appreciate, I promise I'll make you both proud," I beam at him and hug him lightly. I feel him stiffen for a moment when I do; he must not really be used to that kind of affection.
"If you ever need anything, my room is just across the hall from yours. Like if you ever need to talk or anything like that," he says carefully. He stares at me a little then looks down quickly when he sees me look back up at him.
He's nervous. The former Winter Soldier is nervous around me...but why? I blush as he helps me put some things away and we talk, being careful about what he grabs and where I want it to go.
Bucky looks over each thing he picks up curiously, seemingly trying to figure me out without wanting to bombard me with questions too soon. I notice him pick up one of my 1911 handguns in its holster then set it down on the desk as he talks.
"This is some seriously good hardware. I remember having one a long time ago. Haven't been able to get my hands on one that I like yet," he says softly as he turns it over in his hand.
"Best sidearm ever made and really helps out in a pinch," I smile sweetly, and his nose crinkles as he smiles big, again with the charming.
Bucky talks to me a little bit about a previous set of missions that he and Sam had involving the Flag Smashers and that clown John Walker. I cringe so hard at the name, remembering the announcement of US Agent and that goofy-ass grin he had, and of course when he killed a guy with Captain Rogers' shield.
"I broke my TV when I saw that news footage, I couldn't believe he did that," I say, feeling anger rise in my throat.
"Believe me, I was doing everything I could to hold back from pummeling him into the ground," Bucky says, his jaw clenching hard enough to where I can hear his teeth grind. "Eventually both Sam and I did and broke his arm to get the shield back but..." Bucky trails off a little bit, looking very unsure and like he doesn't want to talk about any of that anymore.
"What do you think of Sam taking up the mantel," I ask, trying to change the direction a little bit as he looks uncomfortable.
"I think he's perfect. Much better Captain America than I am. Part of me is a little bit jealous though," he winks at me and I giggle.
"I think that is understandable, you are Steve Rogers' best friend, it would have been really cool to see," I smile softly at him.
"You think so?"
"Hell yeah, maybe I could have been your sidekick," I giggle softly. Bucky let's out a laugh and smiles at me. I love seeing and hearing him smile and laugh, something tells me that it's a rare occurrence.
"That would definitely be something to see, the two of us. So I was thinking maybe if you're up for it, we could do some training tomorrow. Get to know our fighting styles and how we want to coordinate," he says a little nervous, biting his lip that I involuntarily swoon at. What the hell is wrong with you, Emma?
"That actually sounds great, Bucky. I've been feeling a little rusty since I've been on this leave," I say just as Sam walks back in.
"Don't get too comfortable yet. Emma, I hope you're ready because we have a mission tonight," he says with a raised eyebrow.
"Wow, jumping right into it. Okay let's do this," I say smiling, now feeling anxious and unprepared. Now I really wish I had taken an extra day to train some before this. I didn't know how quick we would get our first mission.
"Alright then, gear up guys. Emma, the suit is on the bed," he says and they leave and shut the door.
I look at the bed and there is a black and silver case on it, locked with my name on it. I smile excitedly and open it.
Inside is a new, very body-hugging suit, but not to prohibit movement, in blacks grays and dark browns. The material is similar to those that SHIELD agents wore, but with special detailing of Norse design, and a mixture of Celtic knots in the edging and hems. There is a gray tactical vest with special strapping to where I can carry things but not have stuff in the way of my fighting style movements. The boots are included, black ankle-high lace up boots with my Asgardian family Norse shield emblem on the side.
As I pull it all out and gear up, I find new thigh holster straps for my guns, and then situated slightly behind are special hooks for my axes. I strap them on giddily and then put my hair up in a tight but messy-ish bun, a French braid leading from the nape of my neck to the bun to keep it secure.
I check myself out in the mirror and smile. I'm not happy with my physique all the time, but the new gear makes me feel a little better. They really went all out on some of the requests I made about the design. The feeling of the Celtic knots and weaves in certain places makes me feel safe and secure, and the way they are inlaid into the suit might help if I have any issues with anxiety. Compression in certain areas, I've discovered, have helped me immensely with my anxiety, and the knotting and weaves are actually indicative of protection and safety, so it all works out.
I try to fix the baby hairs on my hairline unsuccessfully and grab my weapons.
As I am leaving my room, Bucky is walking out of his, head-to-toe in navy blue and black, his jacket exposing his left metal arm. He looks like he's ready to kick some ass and I can't help but bite my lip when I see him geared up. Even in old pictures of him in his Howling Commandos gear I thought he was gorgeous, and he's standing in front of me.
"Wow," he says in a breathy tone aloud, almost like it was involuntary. Once again his eyes are raking over me and my cheeks are on fire as he does. There's a hungry look in his eyes and I definitely am not minding it.
"What..? Is it too much," I ask feeling anxious all over again, but kind of picking at him a little to see what he says about my gear.
"No! No, it's great, I just didn't expect it is all. These weavings...reminds me of something I saw in a book once," he says, and I realize he is blushing so bad. I notice him swallow hard as his eyes move slowly over me. I blush and swallow too, realizing that he might really and genuinely be checking me out.
He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "Umm, if you're good with it, Sam said you should take the bike with me so we keep the vehicle interference to a minimum. Since he will be in the air."
"Oh that's good with me," I say, my face feels like it's on engulfed in flames more now, biting my lip again.
"Guys, let's get going," Sam hollers up.
Bucky and I hurry downstairs and meet Sam in the conference room as he is bringing up a screen with the mission details. On one corner there are several mugshots, one of them looking too familiar for my liking, but I say nothing. The mugshot has a very angry looking bald man with face tattoos and a scar across his cheek, the name on the placard he is holding reads Benjamin Rafferty. Why does he look so familiar, I think to myself.
"This is essentially going to be a clean-up mission. Ever since the Snap, there have been several small-time crime rings popping up, some drugs, others stolen weapons from looting and more. This one, the Gunrunners, is one of the last big ones that we and the local police have been looking into. The Blip sort of started unearthing a lot of these sort of...problem areas that couldn't really be handled the same way they would have been when everyone was gone. Much like the FlagSmashers, this group seems to be trying to make a statement. This group is all in the business of weapons movement, mostly illegally gotten through looting and raiding police stations while half the world's population was dusted. They are showing up in this warehouse with some movements, but not enough to be holding any product at this time. Stealth is going to be our main course of action, melee only unless things get hairy. I want you two to go in fast and clean house once I get the outside perimeter secured, then locals will come in and take out the trash. There should not be many left, we took out a lot of their people on the last raid.
"How many," I ask looking over the files, trying to see if anything about that man pops up at me. All the rest just look like pain in the ass mob management, like they are underlings but don't know it. But Rafferty looks evil. There's something in his eyes that tells me he is not afraid to cross lines.
"Just these six heads here, these are the last of the Gunrunner management and for some reason they are all in one place. The rest are all just low level henchmen and cannon fodder."
"I'm ready," Bucky and I say at the same time. We blush at one another and smile. Sam gives us both a weird but intrigued look and motions his head towards the garage.
"Let's get it," Sam says and we head out to the loading area. He gives me a weird look again and I notice him do the same to Bucky as we head to the garage.
Sitting near the garage door is a beautiful black Ducati motorcycle waiting for Bucky and I.
I bite my lip as I see it and smile, "I love it."
Bucky smiles and hands me a helmet, "ladies first."
I climb on the back and get the helmet on and Bucky follows and starts her up. Sam flies off and we leave the garage, speeding off towards the mission destination.
"Whoa," I cry out loudly and giggle, grabbing onto Bucky's waist as the speeds get intense and I try to keep from flying off the bike. My adrenaline is going hard as he weaves through traffic, super aware of Bucky's breathing changes whenever I need to tighten my grip on him. Stay cool, Emma, all he is doing is driving. Let's just try to ignore the fact that you are somehow clinging to one of the most well-known and gorgeous superheroes ever on the back of his bike.
We enter into a very seedy part of Brooklyn that is all but abandoned and left behind by time, near the docking areas that lead into the Hudson. So much of it is warehouses and factory buildings that were never updated and bought to be turned into something else. The brickwork is falling apart on so many of the buildings, making the area look like forgotten ruins.
Bucky slows the bike a few blocks away from the warehouse that the Gunrunners are situated in and parks, allowing me to get off then he follows. He checks that all of the stuff he needs is still where he left it and smiles at me.
"You okay?"
"I'm great, that was fun! I haven't been on a bike in years."
He flashes me a soft smile, his nose crinkled a bit. Oh my God, does this man know how cute he is or is he oblivious? Probably a little oblivious, like he knew it once but doesn't really know it anymore. This man had to have been a major flirt back in the 40s.
"We better get going," he says as he grabs his stuff, looking a little embarrassed.
"Lead the way, sir."
We make our way quietly towards the back of the warehouse, ducking into the alley to the back entrance. As we hit the edge of the entrance, I check the blades on my axes, flipping them out and back into the straps on my thighs.
"Remind me never to sneak up on you in a dark alley," Bucky says softly, watching me with a look of impression.
"If you're fool enough, you won't have time for a reminder," I giggle softly.
* "Alright, you two. Comms are live and the perimeter is now secure. Go in hard and fast, but as quiet as possible. Emma focus on the henchmen for now since you're feeling a little rusty, Bucky find the management and local PD will get them captured quickly. I'll join you in a few." *
"I'm on it, Sam," I say and start to make my way further into the building, making sure to stay as stealth as possible.
Bucky is slightly behind me for a few moments as we quietly make our way through the warehouse, stealthily taking out all the low-level henchmen that we can before splitting up to our separate assignments within the warehouse. The entire time it is really hard for me to tear my eyes away from Bucky fighting, feeling slightly inadequate as he just demolishes guys without so much as breaking a sweat.
There are quite a few of these assholes, and I didn't anticipate that they would be more hardcore than other people I've had to take out.
I find myself wishing again that I had had more training and prep time, getting my fair share of punches, cuts, and bruises almost as much as I'm dishing out. There's one henchman that slams me with the butt of his gun upwards, making my teeth crash together and I fall backwards. I sweep his legs out from under him and punch him in the gut. I catch my breath after knocking the guy out with the hilt of my axe. My lip is busted and bleeding but I shrug it off, having had worse. Still wish I had been able to train up a little bit before this though.
* "Emma, you good?"*
"I'm fine, just make sure the ice packs and orange slices are ready. Maybe some Red Vines."
I hear the boys laugh over the comms as I get further into the main building. I find a long hallway with doors all along either side and I start kicking them in and making sure they are clear, leaving the doors closed after clearing and checking corners. This place makes me feel super uneasy and I don't know why. There is a sick, familiar feeling as I go through each room, but I can't seem to place why I feel like I've been here before.
As I get to the end of the walkway and around a corner, there is a large, metal paint-chipped double door that makes a memory flash through my head too quickly for me to grasp.
I take out one of my 1911s and breathe slowly as I push the doors open slowly, my aim up and as ready as I can be.
As I walk in, flashes of memories in my head keep going off and I realize I'm panicking. There is someone talking over the comms but I don't hear them as sounds play and lights flash in my head. I turn the light on to the room and I feel my heart practically stop in my chest for a second.
The room illuminates as if on queue to me walking in, to reveal a very dank and scary looking handmade torture room. There is a metal folding hair in the middle, scratched and stained from years of being used. Around it are tables covered in blood and water and tools of all kinds, each with their own scarlet coating. There are car batteries, jumper cables, and all manner of other metal items that can be used to torture someone for fun or information. This place is starting to really scare the hell out of me and I don't know what do to but leave. It's like pictures I've seen of prisoners being treated badly at Guantanamo Bay.
I feel someone watching me, but before I can do anything, I am grabbed and slammed against a wall hard, my head bouncing against the wall and back as I look at my attacker.
"Long time, no see Emma," a familiar and panic-inducing voice barks loudly as he walks towards me. It's the man from the mugshots, the bald, tattooed one from the mission briefing. He is stalking menacingly towards me, looking like murder is going to be the first thing on his mind. I don't understand why he looks and sounds so familiar though and it is throwing me off.
I groan and get up quickly, ready for a fight but my guns were knocked out of my hands and my axes across the room from when I was knocked to the wall.
"Nice to meet you, Rafferty, how do you know my name," I demand, still having flashes as he stands there. He gives a dark chuckle as he gets closer and closer to me, his voice dripping with something nasty as he does. He can tell by now that I am freaking out a little bit, and I know he is going to start using that against me.
"Don't you remember me, Emma? We used to spend so much time together here in this very room," he says smiling evilly. I flinch and breathe slowly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the position I am in and not even fully sure why I am here having this talk. Rafferty is almost lovingly moving his hands over some of the things on the tables, like he is recovering a long lost, fond memory.
"Sam, Bucky, where the fuck are—"
Rafferty punches me hard and I hit the ground again, feeling him grab onto my hair and pull me up to him by it. I scream out and try to release myself from him, but if I fight too hard, all of my hair and probably my scalp goes with him.
"You keep fighting and then backing off, why is that Emma? Are you remembering how special you are to me," he hissed at me, the tone in his voice dark and dripping with something disgusting I don't even want to think about.
"No, I don't know you, I just like having hair," I yell and throw a left hook at him and he drops me briefly.
Just then, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, and Rafferty grabs me hard and gets me in a headlock with a gun to my head. His arm is squeezing my neck, but it doesn't hurt as much as I thought it would, maybe his age is showing here.
"Let her go, now Rafferty," I hear Bucky yell angrily. The name rings through my head loudly and I start to see memories of being strapped to that chair, beaten, tortured, strangled, electrocuted, and more, all at the hands of the man holding me now. I start to panic but try to breathe through it, and I remember the knife I stashed in my boot.
"Now why would I want to do that? I have my favorite toy back," Rafferty says and he goes to grab my thigh. Before I realize what's happening, there is a struggle and I am able to get the knife out and jam it into Rafferty's arm, allowing me to get free. He and I start hand-to-hand, trading blows and then the guys joining in to help when I get knocked back.
Rafferty knees me hard in the stomach and knocks the air out of me, but I am able to sweep his legs out from under him and bring the heel of my boot down hard on his chest. He yells loudly in pain and I kick him hard in the side as he goes to move. I kick him back so he's on his back and I find myself on top of him, punching him as I yell in anger from him getting the upper hand on me.
All the years of pain and torture come through in fury as I lay into his face with every punch. There are harsh and heavy flashbacks that are coming in droves into my head as I throw each punch into Rafferty's face. I stare down at him angrily and pick up the pace as each flashback hits me. Finally I feel three real arms and one metal arm pulling me off of Rafferty roughly and I try to fight them off to get back at him. Rafferty goes to say something but both Bucky and Sam punch him hard and he goes unconscious.
"No more, Emma. We got him honey," Sam says as he holds me back as SWAT guys storm the building and take over. As they cuff and take Rafferty away, I feel myself lose the anger and start to disassociate from things around me, but not enough to not function where I am. The world around me feels hazy and void of real sound other than muffling as people move around me. People are trying to talk to me but I hear almost nothing.
One of the SWAT leaders comes over and thanks us, "we appreciate the assist, we've been looking for these guys for a long time," he says. Bucky and Sam talk with him to report what went down, and apparently the officer was talking to me but I didn't hear him.
"Hey, are you ok," I hear from Bucky as I phase back into reality. He takes my chin carefully and tilts it to look at my busted and split lip and blackened eye, and I feel a bruise forming on my cheek from where I got slammed. I see something different in his eyes as he wipes blood off my lip softly. He starts checking the cuts on my face too and looks around me to see if there are any other injuries.
"What the hell did he mean when he called her his favorite toy," Bucky asks Sam, who is looking over the man I was just trying to beat into a pulp. I look down at my hands, which are bloody from Rafferty and hurt some from pummeling the guy.
"Bucky get her home, now. I didn't realize what this place was. I'm so sorry Emma," Sam says, looking around at the room and getting angry as an officer is talking to him. He knows something more about where we were and now I feel even more lost. Sam will tell me more later I hope, because I don't know what the hell is happening anymore.
Bucky takes my arm, draping it over his shoulder and leads me carefully back to the bike as quickly as he can. I stay quiet and unresponsive as he gets me on the bike and puts the helmet on me. He holds the sides of my head so that he knows I'm paying attention and hearing him.
"Emma, I'm going to need you to hold onto me, okay? I mean it, don't let go."
I look up at Bucky and nod silently. He gets on the bike and starts it up as I grab his waist and he takes off, holding onto my hands clasped in front of him so I don't let go and fly off.
The ride feels like it lasts forever while I am in my trance. My mind is racing and I feel like a little kid again, lost and confused and not much knowledge as to what is going on around me completely. I don't really remember much of why Rafferty was calling me a toy, where I was, but I know it had something to do with my childhood. Honestly now that I know a little more about it, I'm not sure if I want to know more. There's so much going on in my head that I feel like I might explode.
Bucky finally pulls us into the garage and parks the bike and helps me off carefully. I take a moment to look at myself, seeing bruises where there is skin showing, and no weapons. My stuff is missing and I have no idea where they were after Rafferty attacked me.
"I left my stuff behind somewhere, Bucky," I say softly.
"Sam will find them and bring them back, Emma," Bucky says and leads me inside and up the stairs to my bedroom. He opens the door and has me sit on the bed and he steps away to start the shower in my bathroom.
As I am sitting there, I start to feel the panic and anxiety wash over me like the largest waterfall in existence, feeling vulnerable and busted. I start to shake and pace a little, losing the air in my lungs quickly, like something is squeezing me. Everything feels tight on me, my suit, the room, the pressure from my suit is not helping in this situation.
As I am pacing and starting to cry, Bucky comes back and finds me starting to claw at my suit to find the clips and zippers and straps. I want it off and I can't breathe, everything feeling way too tight and constricting.
"Bucky, I can't breathe," I say hyperventilating hard and shaking like I'm in a freezer. "Bucky please help me," I beg as I cry. I am trying desperately to get out of my uniform to release some of the tightness around me. My fingers and hands refuse to work as I shake and panic. The look on his face is scared and concerned but then he starts to realize what's happening to me.
"I'm going to undress you, I won't do anything else I promise," Bucky says with his brow tensed up and worried. It eases me that he is talking to me about what he is going to do so that I feel comfortable.
Bucky starts releasing me from the vest and harness, tossing my holsters and straps on the ground as I panic. I am a gross, sweaty, crying mess as we get it all off, but Bucky doesn't seem to care. He focuses on getting it all off me, a concerned look on his face as he gets it off, seeing the darkening bruises from Rafferty beating me, and then picks me up and carries me to the bathroom, only in my bra and panties at this point. I start taking desperate breaths when I am finally out of my uniform, and I think it scares Bucky. I feel like my lungs won't expand as I am trying to pull air in.
Bucky had gotten the shower running and by now the water was hot and steam was fogging all the glass up. He stands me in the shower carefully and puts me in the water.
"Hang tight there, Emma."
I stand there sobbing hard as he gets out of his shoes and jacket and then steps into the shower with me, fully dressed still. He turns me to face him as I am still hyperventilating and crying heavily, and he holds onto my arms tight, like he is trying to keep me grounded in where I am.
"Emma I want you to focus on my breathing and try to match me," Bucky says and he starts to breathe in and out in a set pattern. Into his nose for four counts, out of his mouth for four counts.
I watch him carefully and start fighting my lungs to match his cadence. I look into his eyes as I clutch his forearms, trying desperately not to collapse and stay as strong as I can. He's already seen me in my most vulnerable state, and I hadn't had a real panic attack in years, but it doesn't change that my first mission here might have ruined my chances for several things.
"That's it, Emma, just a little longer."
I moan softly as my chest stops hurting and I feel relief in my lungs. Hearing the two of us breathing at the same time becomes soothing and the hot water on me feels so cleansing. The shaking slows and my knees feel weak as embarrassment sinks in and I become fully lucid.
Sam and Bucky might be second guessing this arrangement now, I'm almost sure Bucky is. He's not the type of person to want to put up with shit, and this is the definition of shit not to put up with.
"I'm so sorry, Bucky," I say in tears and I cover my face. All of my anxiety and fears come to the surface as I feel him watching me.
"You have nothing to apologize for. I don't know what the hell that guy was talking about, but I promise we will figure it out, Emma," Bucky says softly and wipes my face gently.
"He called me a toy...I feel like I'm missing a huge chunk of my life and memories, Bucky."
"I know Emma, I'm so sorry," he says gently.
I feel Bucky wrap his arms around me and pull me close against his wet t-shirt. I ball harder than I have in a long time, in the arms of a man I barely know, basically naked in a shower, but I don't care anymore. The way he squeezes me makes me feel safe and I let him surround me, hearing his skipping heartbeat in my ears.
Bucky turns the water off and lowers us into the still hot tub as he holds me. I feel him wrap me in towels as I continue to sob, slowly remembering all of the pain and torture and trauma that I was put through as a kid.
I am finally no longer able to stay awake, and the last thing I remember before crashing is Bucky squeezing me and kissing my forehead as he rocks me softly back and forth.