CHAPTER 8

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"What were you thinking?!" Mason hollered, the shadows of the lantern cascading beneath his eyes.

You were scrambling away from the young man, struggling to keep a safe distance from his— insanity. "I told you, I didn't know what I was getting myself into!"

"I sent you to set things right with him and you electrocuted him? Did you think your sadistic tactics were going to convince him to recruit?" The Ambassador paused briefly, eye fuming with sparks of rage. He seized you by the shoulders and shoved you roughly against your aired mattress.

"Ugh, let me go!" You struggled against his grasp to perch to your feet once again, but the young man held you firmly. "Jesus fücking Christ, Mason! I said I was sorry!"

"Listen to me," he lowered his voice threateningly. You convulsed in his clutch in which he immediately snatched your chin. "Listen to me damn it!" Eventually you stopped fighting, and stared at him half-heartedly. "What's gotten into you? People are starting notice you've been off in the past few missions. Are you... well?"

"I'm perfectly fine," you garbled, whisking his hands away from your face.

"Look at me." You were hesitant, but your eyes locked onto his unyielding orbs, "Are you unhappy here? With the Ambassadors?"

The question had erupted a wave of shock through your limbs. No one, even if they wanted to, would say yes. The fools who did were never seen again, despite Mason Kehthan's charming and ceremonious farewell. Lower classed Ambassadors had taken up the mission months before to check upon those who left.

No one was found.

There was obviously mystery behind the truth. And everyone was clearly scared shîtless to prove their concerns wrong. "How can I be unhappy when you're here?" You asked in a state of daze.

The wheels in your clouded mind were beginning to work. The answer was clearly better than what Mason expected. He was leisure and patient with you now. His hands were tender as they rested on your knees, "Then what's the matter, doll?

"I'm in the process of figuring that out."

"Figure it out quickly then," his voice sharpened. "I'm making you responsible for bringing the Winter Soldier to us. Till then, you stripped of access to any other documents or missions." You rolled your eyes. Mason picked up on what you were saying in your mind. "Right. You don't mind being trapped in a tent night and day, correct? Then what would be the perfect restriction to your leeway to ensure you won't be screwing around?"

It was almost too obvious but it took him a minute or two before his eyes finally fell on the hockey bag stashed beneath the desk. A cunning grin rolled over the young man's face.

✮✮✮

He fondled with his fork, scoring goals with his meal. He was listless and weary, Rogers noticed. Not like what he was merely a few days ago when he lunged at Stark. There was an evident shadow beneath his eyes, probably from the sleepless nights he complained about. Steve did everything in his capability to keep his friend fit and valuable but the dark mentality was restricting any attempt from Bucky. "Do you want another rib?"

The Winter Soldier was startled, before he responded with a stammered voice, "No— no thank you, I'm okay."
Steve nodded leisurely but hesitantly. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Just tired," he answered bluntly.

The man nodded again to his companion's response, "Natasha's been gathering a few remedies to help with the sleep. But for now, you should grab warm tea or milk before you hit the hay."

This time, Barnes nodded. His eyes drilled into the leftovers on his plate. Silence fell over the two, finally letting the man's mind wander in peace. The previous few days had left him listless and dazed. With Steve, Sam and other family members barging in on his alone time, it was impossible to feel tranquil.

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