Knife Edge: A Stucky Fancfiction

Chapter 8

By the time they arrived at Clint's house, it was 12:30, just in time for Laura's home-made soup. After lunch, Steve sat with Nathaniel playing with his Lego. He smiled as Nathaniel threw a piece across the room in anger that it wouldn't fit on top of another, Steve chuckled as Clint bent down to comfort him.

He noticed Bucky looking longingly at him and Nathaniel. He had never known if Bucky had wanted children, but the way he looked at Nathaniel made him wonder if they could settle, if they would make good parents.

"Captain Rogers, um... would you mind helping Clint chop the wood? It's just, he pulled his back at the gym." Laura said, having finally plucked up the courage to ask him.

"Please, call me Steve." He replied with a broad, friendly smile "And, of course I could, I'll go now." Steve said, opening the door into the bright yet frosty day. He noticed the beauty in the place around them, surrounded by trees, open fields and farmland.

If there was ever a place Steve and Bucky could settle, he would want it to be somewhere like this, somewhere safe and tranquil. But he knew he could never have a 'normal' life with Bucky at his side.

"Steve! Steve!" He heard Bucky scream from inside the house. He heard gunshots and the screams of Laura and the children. He spun round to face the house and saw Clint running towards him.

Steve was frozen to the spot. He saw Bucky run into the distance, past the trees. He hoped he would be safe, but Steve had to try and help Clint and his family. He saw a CIA agent raise his gun in Clint's direction and the whole world seemed to run in slow motion. As soon as Steve noticed the gunman, he ran towards him, shouting to him not to shoot, that Clint was innocent.

The gunman raised his pistol, nonetheless, and fired two shots. One hit Clint in the centre of the back and the other grazed his bicep. He screamed in agony as he hit the floor with a loud thump, groaning as his wounds bled, gushing like fast-flowing rivers.

Steve stopped and stared at the young gunman. He looked only 19 or 20 years old. His hands were shaking as he dropped his gun, his hands moving slowly up to his mouth in shock of what he had just done. Steve looked him straight in the eye and shook his head.

He turned his attention to Clint, pulling off the shirt he had borrowed from Clint's wardrobe and tore it into two pieces. He pressed them to his back and arm. Clint groaned as Steve pressed harder on his bullet wounds.

"I'm sorry, Clint this will hurt but it'll help. I promise." He said, trying to calm Clint and stop the blood flow.

"Steve..." He rasped "Laura... a... and the... kids." He strained for breath "Help... them, please... leave me." Steve looked at his fallen comrade, he momentarily saw Gabriel Jones, one of the Howling Commandos he had served with in the Second World War.

He marched over to the gunman and grabbed his shoulders, "Where are the children? And Laura? Where are they?!" He shouted, his temper flaring at the man who had hurt his friend.

"I... I don't know. I'm... I'm so sorry, I-" The gunman stammered

"Save it. You've done enough already." Steve snapped.

"The house is secure, repeat the house is secure." Steve heard over the walkie-talkie "The family have been taken, no casualties. Morgan, report. Repeat, Morgan, report." The commanding officer ordered.

"Take me in, and call an ambulance for Clint. It's the least you can do. Now!" Steve shouted as he put his hands behind his head.