Finding You and Me: Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

Hating Love

Bucky and I have barely said a word to each other in two weeks. We continued our routine of waking up early, going to the Avengers Tower, leaving, and find a new place to sleep. I no longer have a concussion, so I guess that's good news.

Bucky and I are sitting on the rooftop of the building from before. Not a word has been said. I have just been organizing everything in a journal to help him remember. At this point, I don't care if he stays. I honestly would rather have him leave because I hate being with him and us hating each other.

A loud sigh leaves Bucky's lips and I can tell he's frustrated.

"What?" I groan back.

"I said I'm sorry. You still won't talk to me. I don't even know what I did," he says like we're some sort of high school couple.

"No I'm the one that's sorry," I mumble.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He asked confused.

"I'm sorry for taking advantage of you. I got caught up in the moment. It was a mistake," I reply, referring to the night we slept together.

He stands up in anger. I can tell I've upset him, but I honestly don't think I care. It's not like we're friends.

"It was a mistake?" Bucky shouts, "Red, sometimes I really - "

The soldier was cut off due to a light that struck down onto Avengers Tower. It was a bright beam that came from the sky and when it cleared, there was a man.

That man was wearing full armor and had a long red cape. He had long blonde hair and carried a large hammer.

You're kidding.

"Are you for real?!" I shout.

"Who the hell is that?" Bucky asks, astonished.

"That would be Thor. He's an Avenger with your buddy Captain America. He's from space," I exhale.

Bucky looks over at me in shock, but I keep my eyes forward. Thor walks into the building and is greeted by a couple of people. No one of great importance.

"We should probably head back. Nothing special is going to happen. It's probably just Thor bitching about something and needs their help," I say and start to walk away.

"Whatever you say, Red."

~~~~~~~

"Where are we going to stay tonight?" Bucky asks as we pack up our things.

"I'm not sure, but I will figure it out," I groan as I pick up a bag and slam it on the bed.

I hear Bucky mumble something under his breath, but I was unable to hear the exact words. I would've asked, but I stop myself.

No, you're supposed to hate him. You care too much. Stop it.

This is too hard.

I ignored his constant mumbling and make my way out of the hotel room. I look down at my clothes that have been worn over and over again over the past 2 weeks and I realize we need to make a quick stop.

I continue my walk after we check out of the hotel and ignore anyone who tries to talk to me.

When I make it outside, I make my way to the motorcycle and wait for Bucky. When he gets on behind me, I fire up the engine. The first turn I make is a left. I drive a couple more blocks and then turn right. I have walked this path so many times over my years I don't even have to think about it.

"Where are we going?" I hear Bucky shout over the sounds of the engines and New York traffic.

"My secret layer!" I shout back.

"You're what?" He asks, but I just laugh and ignore him.

A couple of minutes later, we pull up next to a small storage unit. It's practically empty. The last time I was here was about 3 months ago. I'm the only one who still has a locker. I honestly don't even know if it's still legal for me to be here.

Not that I suddenly care about the United States laws. This is actually the longest I've been in the U.S. in one trip. I wasn't expecting to stay this long. I usually end up in France. That's where I learned how to use my looks as an advantage. I have these lockers all over the globe, in fact. I have lots of missions in Paris, New York, Berlin, Moscow, Madrid, just the major cities, so I have my stuff scattered in those places.

I get off the bike and make my way to storage until 357. I insert the key and slide the large door up and close it again behind us when Bucky walks in with the bike. I walk over to the right side of the door, just inside of my locker. I flip on the light switch and all of my things are revealed.

I have a dresser full of clothes and another rack of weapons and supplies. I have a desk full of files and information I needed for past missions along with a better computer set up. On the farthest wall, I have a bed for long missions and emergencies. The room is also nicely furnished with empty bottles.

Just because I can't get drunk, doesn't mean I won't try.

I walk to the far left corner of the room and beckon Bucky to follow me. In the corner, there is somewhat of a, "I'm tired of having to go everywhere with you, please leave me alone," gift covered up with a sheet.

I'm very generous.

When he walks up next to me I rip the sheet off and his eyes go wide.

"You mean to tell me you have had another motorcycle this entire time and just didn't feel like telling me?" Bucky ask.

"Look, I didn't know if I could trust you. I can't just give one of my babies to a stranger!" I retort and walk to my dresser.

"I'm not a stranger though. You have known me as long as you can remember and I mean that literally!"

Ouch.

I grab a knife from my rack and throw it at Bucky. Unfortunately, he catches it right before it hits his eye.

"I hate you," I huff.

"You have no idea."

"Oh really? Did you have to deal with a partner who was so obsessed with a mission he nearly killed you?" I ask thinking back on our missions together.

"Did you have to deal with a partner that was so self-centered she actually thought I cared if she died or not?"

Bigger ouch.

I charge at him with another knife. I strike at him, but he blocks every time. I try to stab him in his left shoulder, but his hand grabs my wrist. I drop the knife and catch it with my other hand.

I spin around, turning my back to him and stab him in his right thigh. He screams in pain and releases my wrist. I put some space between us then turn back around to face him.

Bucky removes the knife from his leg and drops it on the ground. He runs at me and throws a couple of punches. I have 5 more years of training then he does though, so I am just slightly better.

Slightly.

I manage to block his throws, but he does manage to flip me over. He towers over me and places his metal hand around my throat. The look in his eyes is the look I'm used to seeing and it's not Bucky Barnes.

It's the Winter Soldier.

"B-Bucky, it's m-me, R-Red," I manage to get out.

"You're n-name is Bucky Barnes. You were a Hallowing Commando in World War 2. What about S-Steve? Do you remember him?"

A slight faltering in his eyes occurred, but I'm slowly blacking out. It wasn't enough. I know why. He was trained to fight a threat. I attacked him. I would be more surprised if he remained Bucky Barnes in such intimate combat. This is different from killing those business and HYDRA agents. This time, I personally attacked him.

I look over to my right and see an empty bottle of Vodka. I grab it and slam it into the side of Bucky's head and he releases my neck.

He looks a little disoriented, but like he is starting to be Bucky again. Just to be safe, I throw a very hard punch at the super soldier and he falls to the ground.

Wow, that felt good.