Where Are We...?

Chapter Twelve

ignore the spacing on the russian wattpad can't handle the fact that it's russian???

-Bucky Barnes-

"Hey! Open up!" Drax was yelling. He was muffled by the door, but he's still loud.

Bucky rubbed his eyes. The thick, lazy sunlight was shining through the dirty window.

He was only partly upset that he was being woken up, because the other part was upset that Peter wasn't in bed.

"Quill, wake up," Bucky shoved Quill off of the bed. "Quill, Peter's outside. I remember him coming in."

Drax pushes open the door. He had a scratch down the side of his face.

"Drax?" Quill sat up.

"The kid and the wizard. They're gone."

"What?!" Bucky threw the blankets off and stormed out. "Who the hell took him? Where?"

He had Mantis backed up to the wall.

"He had very dark skin and no face," Mantis said. "You are very strong. Like Thor, only... not."

He stared at her for a few seconds before pushing off the wall.

"Bucky, we can't just run out there. He took the wizard, he's gotta be strong."

"Shut up." Bucky turned around. "I've already lost so much, and I am not, I repeat, am not going to lose that kid."

And with that, Bucky was off, and Quill, Drax, and Mantis staring after him hopelessly.

The sounds of his footprints were hardly recognizable; he felt like a ghost in his own body. Where was he going?

A scream sounded in the distance.

"Дом. Мой дом."

Bucky snapped to attention. The voice was in his head, but it wasn't. It was like when HYDRA used to use the machine on him.

His body shook slightly, but he trudged on.

"Buck—" A voice was cut off by a scream and sobs. It sounded terrible and it sounded like he was in pain and He's been through that before, that pain, that awful pain.

The memories hurt his head. He wanted to kneel down and cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted to pull his hair out. But he didn't.

He stayed calm for the sake of Peter.

"Дом. Мой дом."

Bucky shook his head. Peter.

Peter screamed again. The voice in his head was quieter.

"Peter!" Bucky yelled. He'd found his words again.

"Help!" Peter sounded choked.

Bucky ran. His vision was coming back, and he could see the outline of Peter lying on the ground.

"Hey!" Quill screamed, running out from behind the shrubbery. "Demon guy! Let go of the kid."

"Дом."

"What the hell is he saying?" Quill exclaimed.

"We're in his house." Bucky mumbled, and threw a hard punch at the blob.

Drax grabbed Peter and dragged him away from the scene. Peter was struggling to stand.

"Bucky!" Peter screamed. His voice was hoarse. Bucky could hardly hear him.

There was white hot anger rushing through his veins. Once again, he felt like a spectator in his own body, throwing punches and kicking and pushing and ignoring Peter, who was screaming for him to stop, to back away.

He'd never changed so quickly. How he could go from angry to okay to angry again, he didn't know, but the exhaustion hurt his brain and he just wanted to go home.

But he couldn't stop. He was out of control. His movements weren't his; they were jerky and confused where his would be smooth and experienced, they were short and sharp where his would be longer and dull.

Then Quill interrupted and pushed the demon into a tree, where it disappeared.

Bucky heard breathing, and then he realized it was him. His breath was ragged and uneven, he was dizzy and sick.

Peter wrapped his hand into his, and his hand was small and soft and Bucky sobbed.

"What did he do to you?" Bucky asked.

"Everything." Peter whispered.

Bucky's heart skipped a beat. Peter was a kid. Bucky was the adult. Peter was something that needed protection.

Internally, he swore an oath to himself.

He would protect Peter, even if that meant death.