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CW: Discussions of death. No smut, gotta move this plot forward. We'll head back to Paris in the next chapter once everyone has calmed down.
Folks, PLEASE comment on fics. I feel so pathetic begging for this, but engagement is so bad. Comments keep authors motivated and when we don't get them, a lot of us just stop writing because we don't think anyone's reading or enjoying what we're putting out.
It's so quiet that Reilly feels like she could throw up.
It's so fucking tense in this apartment, and she's doing everything she can to keep herself upright.
She doesn't even know where they are, Reilly could barely see when Bucky kicked the door in and they raced up the stairs to get to safety. All she knows is that this apartment has real barricades in the form of massive steel rods that slide into some kind of locking mechanism.
Oh, and a fucking metal door. This apartment was not meant for someone to break into, or even break out of.
They're ten storeys up. Bucky lingers by the door, blocking it even further, while Steve sits on a ratty looking couch. Reilly, meanwhile, has been standing in the middle of the room for what feels like hours. He second Bucky put her down, she could barely muster the strength to look at him.
The sun has set, and the windows have been covered with layers upon layers of newspaper. As the sun was setting, it looked a bit like stained glass.
"How did you know about this place?" Steve asks.
"Old Hydra safe house," Bucky replies.
"Oh, so you decided to get a regular apartment to fucking stalk me?" Reilly snaps. Bucky flinches, as though he's surprised at the anger in her voice.
"Reilly—"
His eyes soften and she gestures to Mark's head that's still tied to his belt.
"Take that off."
"Reilly, sweetheart, please sit down," Steve rumbles.
She turns to him, her eyes narrowed.
"Don't you dare sweetheart me! I came here for fucking answers and I'll stand if I want to!"
Steve shifts in his seat.
"Well, you're makin' Buck nervous."
"I'm not—"
"You are," Steve bites back, his eyes fixed on Bucky. "You're twitching and tense. You look like you're gonna bolt. Just... put the zombie head down—"
"That's my husband's head!" Reilly hisses through clenched teeth and tears. "Show some fucking respect!"
Steve holds up his hands, bowing his head..
"I'm sorry."
Bucky sets Mark's head down on the floor and Reilly crumbles again, staring at the ceiling with tears in her eyes as she struggles for breath.
