Ordinary (A Marvel Fanfiction)

Chapter Nine

I wasn't sure what had happened at first. I supposed you become disoriented a little after a flash grenade goes off right in front of you. I had a fleeting thought of Banjo before Bucky was pushing me to the ground and telling me to stay down.

When I looked up, there were three men facing off against Bucky, but I couldn't seem to hear any of them. I was so confused about everything.

"Bucky!" I yelled out as the third man came at him from behind.

"Stay down!" He yelled back, whirling to bash the guy across the face. I shrieked as the force threw the man across the room and into the bookshelf next to me.

I scrambled away, watching as the man fell to the ground, surrounded by pieces of my shelves.

"My books!" I exclaimed, half in shock.

A hand grabbed the back of my neck, lifting me off the ground. I screamed, thrashing in the man's grasp. He didn't seem bothered at all by my actions, instead turning to throw me into a wall.

I gasped for air, slumping on the ground. I scrambled to my feet as he approached me, still trying to suck air into my bruised lungs. Instinctually, I threw a fist out as the man came within reach.

I screamed in pain as a loud snap filled the air. The man stumbled back a few feet, and I crouched down low, holding my injured hand close to my chest.

The man shook off the shock of my punch and approached me again. He reached his arms out to grab me. I closed my eyes, waiting for his hands to grasp me, but they never came. I opened my eyes just in time to see Bucky snap the man's neck.

I screamed, tears flowing down my face. Bucky quickly finished off the other men and it was quiet again.

I stumbled to my feet, keeping my hand close to my chest. I looked around in a daze. My apartment was a wreck, three bodies were lying in my living room, and blood was soaking into my rug.

Bucky approached me, a wary look on his face. He had his hands held out in front of me, as if afraid to scare me off.

"Emma?" He asked, his voice gentle.

It was as if his voice released whatever spell was holding me. I instantly ran to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and shoving my face into his chest.

He didn't move for a second, shocked, but as my sobs registered in his ears, he slowly wrapped his arms around me. One of his hands reached up to cradle the back of my head and a feeling of safety flowed through my veins.

I'm not sure how long we stayed that way, but eventually he released me, slowly pushing me away until he could look me in the eyes.

"Emma? Are you hurt?" He asked, his eyes scanning over my body.

I cradled my hand to my chest, the pain causing it to throb. I opened my mouth to answer him, but was once again distracted by the state of my apartment.

"My rug is ruined." I mumbled, shaking my head.

"Your rug?!" He repeated incredulously.

"Where's Banjo?" I asked, ignoring him. I started moving around the room, looking for my cat.

"Emma!" Bucky called after me.

I bent over to set the side table upright, calling for Banjo as I did. I made it to the kitchen, pleased to see it barely touched.

"Emma!"

I didn't listen, focusing all my attention to the orange tabby that was asleep on the top of the fridge. I sighed in relief, pulling him down with my good hand to hug him close. He yowled in protest.

"You're the worst cat in the world." I told him, pressing my face into his fur.

"Emma, what happened to your hand?"

I turned to look at Bucky finally, setting Banjo down on the table. I looked down at the hand cradled next to my heart.

"I think I broke it." I said. I felt disconnected from this entire situation. I looked back up at Bucky, surprise coating my face. "It's definitely broken. I didn't think I punched that guy that hard."

Bucky looked at me worried. My eyes trailed to the bodies on the floor behind him and I flinched. That was four men who had died in my apartment now.

Not that I was keeping count.

"Bucky?"

He turned to look at me, a question on his face.

"I think I need to go to the hospital." I told him, the pain in my hand becoming more prominent now that the adrenaline was wearing off.

He nodded grimly.

***

"I can't believe you broke your hand."

I shrugged, climbing into the car, glad to get out of the rain. After Bucky dropped me off at the hospital, he disappeared, leaving me to call Nico for a ride.

"How'd you do it again?" Nico asked, reaching over the center console to inspect the bright pink cast wrapped around my hand.

"I tripped." I told him, lamely. Nico looked over in suspicion, but didn't argue.

He started the drive back to my apartment and I began to worry about how I'm going to clean everything up.

I couldn't help but wonder if Bucky was okay wherever he was. He had been so worried about me, but I could tell something bothered him about the whole scenario.

Nico pulled up beside my apartment building.

"Are you sure you don't want to spend the night at my place?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm sure."

I needed to clean up the blood before it started to smell. And the bodies. Oh god.

I said goodbye, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. I dashed out the car without another word and began to make my way to my door.

When I got into the apartment, I expected mass-carnage, but it was clean. I looked around in shock. It was as if nothing had happened. As if three men hadn't just been killed in this very room.

There was a strong scent of bleach in the air, but that was the only sign of something being out of place.

A small sunflower was sitting on the kitchen counter and I knew immediately who had cleaned up my apartment.

And so, despite everything that I had seen and despite my broken hand, I found myself smiling, my thoughts filled with a blue-eyed man with a metal arm.