Hell Bound

Twenty-One

I couldn't sleep. And not for the usual reasons. The problem was that I couldn't even fall asleep, even though I was already so tired. I heard the TV shut off later, and the sound of Graham clunking up the stairs and into the spare bedroom. I waited a little longer, hoping to give him enough time to fall asleep. Then I left my room and crept down the stairs.

Bucky was already pressed up against the back of the couch as if he anticipated me joining him. He looked like he was asleep, and I didn't want to bother him. I tried to lift the blanket and climb in next to him without waking him, but his arm instantly shifted to give me a place to rest my head. He pulled the blanket up over my shoulders.

"We need to talk," he said in a low, rumbly voice as I got comfortable against his chest.

"I know."

"You can't keep avoiding it." I sighed.

"I know. I just don't think it'll do any good." He rested his chin on the top of my head.

"Why won't you fight back?"

"Because my only options are to fight them head-on or hide behind my friends. I can't do either of those things."

"What makes you think you can't? You have powerful friends."

"Friends who would lock me up if it meant keeping me safe. Even if it made me miserable. Stark already crosses a line monitoring my house."

"They could teach you how to fight."

"And do what exactly? I have a military background. I was Special Forces and a combat medic. And now I can't shoot a gun without freezing. I can't even lift my arms up very far. I can't function most days without a gallon of coffee. I can barely use a knife. And I'd still be just one person against an entire organization that has existed since before I was born."

"You have powerful friends," he repeated. And this time, I got the feeling he was lumping himself into that category.

"The more people who get involved, the more people who can wind up hurt. I'm not going to risk anyone else just to keep myself safe. Least of all, my sister. The farther from her I am, the safer she is. I already feel bad enough bringing you and Graham into this."

"I was already involved. It's my fault."

"It isn't your fault."

"You know that's not true." I leaned on my elbow so I could look down at him.

"Buck, what exactly do they want me for?" I asked. He shut his eyes again. He looked like he wanted to rub them in frustration. But his only free hand was made of metal, so it stayed firmly on my hip.

"As far as I can remember–there have only been two instances where they've asked me to bring someone in alive. You and a biological research engineer in nineteen-eighty-four. She was involved with a Special Ops soldier, and it took me a full year to track them down. When I finally located her, she jumped off a bridge to escape. She knew what they wanted her for, and she chose to die instead. They never told me what it was. Not that I can remember anyway, but they wouldn't have had a reason to tell me. I did what they told me, and I didn't ask questions."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Because I have reason to believe that her partner was Daryl Russell." He opened his eyes again and looked up at me. I shook my head slowly before moving off the couch to sit on the coffee table. My living room was dark, only lit by the glowing stripes through the blinds.

"It's a common name," I tried.

"Which would make it a good name for an alias. I wouldn't have told you if I had reason to believe it was anyone else."