Not Quite a Soldat

13

Nick had managed to get Chanel a year that might be in association with Project X so she pulled all her journals and documents that were two years before and after that year. Based on the limited information Nick knew, Chanel knew this was going to be a decoding situation. There was absolutely no way this Project X would be written so plainly— unless it was in some secret notebook that wasn't in her possession. Nat knocked on her open door, Chanel rarely closed it during the day and told everyone they were free to come in whenever.

"You busy?"

"With this, I'll stay busy. Did you need something?"

"Red Room, 1979. Looking for an instructor that worked around that time, he might be linked to something I've got now. About to head to the quinjet but was hoping you had anything for me."

Chanel set down the physical book she was looking at and left her room. Nat followed her to her office on the lower floors, near Tony and Bruce's lab. Once Chanel finished working on a document, she tended to move it from her laptop to the large drives on the computer in the office. Nat snorted as she read the file name Chanel pulled up.

"IKEA furniture?"

"What? They all needed code names."

"No one's dumb enough to steal from the girl with her thumb over the large red button."

"No, but they might try to steal each other's secrets through me."

Nat nodded and watched Chanel click on the file. She watched actual IKEA furniture pictures pop up as the thumbnail. Chanel clicked on a clock picture labeled Burgundy Time— the words rhyming with '79. Nat watched her type in a password once the picture opened and the scrambled document looked normal. Chanel printed out the papers, paper clipped them, and handed them to Nat.

"Thank you," Nat said as she took the papers.

"Is that all?"

"Yep, this is perfect. See you when I see you." Knowing Natasha, it would probably be less than a week.

Now that Nat had dragged Chanel out of her room, she sat on the balcony to finish her work even after the lamps turned on. Sam had to drop off dinner otherwise she wouldn't have eaten. Chanel tried her best to keep regular office hours— starting when Sam, Steve, and Bucky went on their runs and ending when the lowest level agents left the main compound for the day. If a journal was almost done or a country needed the document urgently, she would work a little longer but Chanel tried not to consume herself in it. This night was not one of those nights, Romania wanted something sent as soon as possible.

She stared at the words. Chanel had translated as best as she could but there were some complicated words that she didn't know and even in context couldn't figure out. Looking at the time, Chanel sighed and got up. Waking Bucky up wasn't something she wanted to do but she kind of had to. Between her and him, Chanel ditched all the Romanian dictionaries and it was quicker to just use him anyway. F.R.I.D.A.Y. let her off at Bucky and Steve's floor.

The lights were off from what Chanel could see underneath the door but she heard noises from Bucky's room anyway. Chanel hoped he was watching something and was already up so she wouldn't feel bad for waking him. She knocked but got no response so Chanel just entered. Bucky wasn't awake but constantly moving his head from side to side. His face was contorted in pain, mumbles incoherent to where she wasn't even sure if it was English. Chanel rushed to the tangle of sheets. She shook his shoulder but got no response. Bucky was deep in the nightmare.

"Bucky! Buck," Chanel called out his name.

The sting to her cheek was unexpected. Chanel had little time to process the sharpness of the slap before Bucky had her pinned to the bed, his metal pressed against her throat with all his weight backed against it. Clawing at his hand, Chanel was gasping where she could for air. If Nat and Sharon took some time to throw off a super-soldier, she would take forever— and forever was time Chanel didn't have.