Lost + Found [Bucky Barnes] ✓

Chapter 8

After we speak to the police, Steve and Natasha usher me out of my apartment. A news crew is already waiting outside, a camera flashing into our faces in the darkness. In one swift motion, Natasha steps up to the photographer and twists the camera out of his hand before removing the SD card and returning the device.

"We weren't here," she warns them with a low voice that gives me shivers. I would not want to be on her bad side.

Steve guides me toward a sleek black SUV parked a block up the street, and I slide into the backseat while my mind replays the scene inside my apartment over and over again. I can still smell it, the metallic tang of blood hitting my nostrils, even once it's gone. My stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought, but it's - thankfully - already empty.

"How are you holding up?" Steve asks me, careful to avoid asking me whether or not I'm okay.

I shrug, unwilling to voice how I feel. If I open my mouth, part of me thinks I'll start screaming bloody murder and the other part knows couldn't speak even if I tried. I can hardly breathe, let alone function, so coherent speech is far beyond me. I think he knows where I'm at mentally because he doesn't push it, and I'm grateful for that.

Natasha is silent behind the wheel of the car as she expertly navigates the streets of DC, taking us who-knows-where. I think we're heading north, toward the suburbs, but I can't focus on anything except the sound of my own breathing.

Oh shit, I realize. The suburbs.

"Mom..." I whisper, dropping my head into my hands.

Steve glances back at me from the front seat, "What's that?"

"My mother," I croak. "What do I tell her? Someone might recognize my apartment from the news..."

"Do you need to call her?" Natasha asks, keeping her eyes on the road.

"What do I even say?" I reply frantically. "I lost my baby sister? I can't--"

I can't even finish my sentence, so I don't think a phone call is going to work. Either way, Steve shakes his head and glares at Natasha before reaching a hand back to pat my knee gently. I lift my head out of my hands to meet his blue eyes.

"Are your parents in DC?" He asks me.

I nod, "Bethesda. My mom lives in Bethesda."

"Then we go to Bethesda," he tells Natasha, giving me one last look before turning around to face the front.

Natasha gives him an exasperated look, but he shrugs. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right," he tells her. "You can't tell a mother that her child has been kidnapped over the phone."

She sighs, gripping the steering wheel tight, and tosses up a hand in resignation.

"Fine, let's go to Bethesda," she says. "But call Sharon and give her an update."

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I'm calm by the time we reach Bethesda, but as soon as we arrive at my mother's house I start to panic all over again. My hands and knees are shaking, and I'm forced to stuff my fists into my jacket pockets to keep the convulsions at a minimum. The twenty minute drive went by in the blink of an eye, and now I'm standing outside my mother's house quaking with fear.

Steve stands beside me, and he gives me a weak smile before I step up to ring the doorbell. He called Sharon in the car like Natasha suggested, and I'm pretty sure they're a 'thing'. If I wasn't freaking out, I'd probably be disappointed, but right now...I just don't care. Sorry, Steve. Sharon can have you.