Soul Stealer ~ (A Bucky Barnes Love Story)

The Long Road Home

My leg bounced nervously while I chewed on my thumbnail.  My thoughts were racing as fast as my heart, trying to process everything that happened in the last 12-hours. 

HYDRA had found us.

The Avengers had too.

HYDRA tried to kill us, almost succeeded.  No real surprise there but still.

Iron Man wasn't a robot after all.  There was a man inside the brightly colored suit.  Tony Stark to be exact.  Tony Stark was Iron Man.  The little boy I'd held for a few minutes a lifetime ago was an honest to god superhero.

My father was likely still in the country looking for me.  Well, looking for Bucky at least.  What their plans were if they found us was less clear.  I was pretty sure Captain America wouldn't let anyone kill his best friend, former assassin or not.  I wasn't as confident the asylum extended to me.

Bucky's heavy, boot clad steps pulled me out of my downward spiral and I looked up.  He was dressed in his Winter Soldier armor and I suppressed an involuntary shudder.  I had no idea he'd saved the garb, much less toted it with us across the world. 

He looked downright menacing in the outfit he'd worn as the fist of HYDRA.  The man before me wasn't the WWII hero turned POW remembered in the Smithsonian.  Right now he was the most elusive, dangerous, and ruthless assassin the world had ever seen. 

The only thing he wasn't wearing were the mask and goggles.  There was no point in covering his face to hide his identity, not anymore.  In fact, if we had any hope of surviving the next hour it would only be because of who he was.

"I'm not sure Kevlar and guns really say, I come in peace."  His eyes flicked to me briefly before he continued strapping guns and knives all over his body.  Glancing down at my black leggings and oversized gray hoodie I frowned.  "I really need a suit."

"You're fine."

Standing, I waved a hand at my mundane clothes.  "You look like you're about to liberate a small country.  I look like I'm late for an exercise class."

And not a very cool one either.

He slid a fierce looking knife into a sheath at his waist, turning to face me.  He looked amused at my dismay.  "That's kind of the point."

"What?"

"I want them worried about me."  He stepped into my personal space, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear.  "They may be The Avengers..."  His eye roll made me snort.  "But it doesn't mean they won't panic.  If someone starts shooting I want the bullets aimed at me."

"That doesn't make me feel better."  In fact, it made me feel a little bit sick.

The gentle smile on his face as he peered down at me was difficult to reconcile when he was dressed for mass murder.  On the outside he was a battle tested warrior.  The most feared man of the last century, but when he held me in his arms, chin resting on top of my head, he was just Bucky. 

He was safe.  He was my home, my everything. 

The smell of leather and gunpowder tickled my nose, a scent unique to him, and I snuggled against him. 

"Just remember the plan," he said softly, the two of us reluctant to let go.

"I don't think showing up at the airport and hoping they don't kill us qualifies as a plan."  I wasn't sure it was even a concept.  "Are you sure you want to do this?"

His arms tightened around me.  "We're out of options.  You've already been shot and blown off a bridge.  I'm not sure I can protect you, us, from them forever."