Lost + Found [Bucky Barnes] ✓

Chapter 38

It turns out Sam came to Greece the day after everything happened, and he joined Steve and T'Challa in hiding in the outskirts of Athens. They stayed there for a few days, monitoring the news reports and reaching out to connections in the hopes of learning more about Magnus and his organization, until T'Challa had to return to Wakanda. He left with the promise to aid Steve and Sam from afar, and - after a week and a half of waiting - they finally picked up on the digital paper trail Bucky left for Steve to find.

Luckily, no one else seemed to discover the same information, so it's just the four of us crowded in Bucky's tiny one bedroom safehouse while we figure out what to do next.

After I slip my hand away from Bucky, I stare at the wood grain of the tiny table and run my fingers across the worn surface. Three pairs of eyes are trained on me as the three men wait for my response, and it's quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Next to me, Bucky is frozen like a statue - only the warmth of his leg pressed against my own reminds me that he's still living and breathing next to me.

"So...do we have anything else to go with?" I mumble. "Any other options?"

Steve shakes his head, "Tony's our best chance. Barton and Banner were there after the fact, but they're both lying low."

"Vision?" Bucky asks, his voice low.

Sam sighs, "He's definitely an asset, but given the Sokovia Accords...I think he's the hardest one to convince to help us. After everything that happened, he's worried about international fallout and what happened in Athens won't exactly help our case."

"What do you mean?" I ask. "They attacked us."

The two men across the table fall silent again, and Bucky takes a deep breath next to me. I haven't been out of the safe house for two weeks, and the shitty TV in the bedroom doesn't have great reception. The only news channel is in Greek, and I haven't really been interested in watching it.

"They're saying that what happened in Monastiraki Square was a coordinated terrorist attack," Steve admits.

My eyes grow wide, and I turn to Bucky. He averts his gaze, his blue eyes staring holes into the table in front of us, before he opens his mouth to speak.

"After we left, there was some...collateral damage," Bucky admits. "Security footage and civilian accounts captured me at the scene, and they're blaming it on me. On us."

Wait.

"Us?" I ask incredulously. "What do you mean us?"

Steve grimaces, "There's video of you stopping them from taking Bucky, of your escape. You've been labeled as an accomplice to the deaths of thirteen civilians, and there's a warrant out for your arrest."

Pushing back my chair, I stand abruptly. It feels like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, and my lungs are struggling to expand as panic surges through my veins. Steve and Sam watch, concern etched over their features, as I head straight toward the bedroom only to be followed by Bucky. Ignoring his calls, I step out onto the balcony - gulping down the fresh air - as I force back the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"Chloe," Bucky repeats, his hand brushing against the bare skin of my forearm.

He pulls his hand away as I turn, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent the onslaught of tears from cascading down my face. Blue eyes meet mine, and I glance away from them to catch his right hand hanging limp by his side. The flesh on his fingertips is a grotesque blackened color, the spot where his skin connected with mine shriveled and rotted. He follows my gaze, tucking his hand into a fist, before he takes another step forward.

"Don't," I warn him, holding out a hand. "I, um...I just need a minute."

Bucky frowns, "I should've told you, but I didn't want to worry you. After everything that has happened with your sister, I didn't want to add to that burden."

"So you decided to carry it by yourself?" I snap at him.

Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair before admitting, "I'm used to it. I didn't want you to feel like a fugitive. I knew it would be tough..."

"Do you think that's why I'm upset?" I interrupt, gritting my teeth out of anger. "Bucky, this is my fault. All of this. The reason my sister was kidnapped. The reason you're awake. The reason they nearly took you. The reason everyone thinks you're a murderer again."

He sucks in a breath, reaching out to grab my arm, but I pull away.

"I don't want to hurt you," I mumble, wiping my eyes to prevent the tears from falling.

Stepping forward, Bucky's metal arm wraps around my wrist and tugs me toward him. The space between us is reduced to nothing, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as his tall frame invades my space. Everything about him overwhelms me - his height, his smell, his very existence - as he runs his cold metal hand up my arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"This isn't your fault," he whispers, cupping my cheek carefully, before wrapping his other arm around my waist.

I suck in a breath, waiting for him to pull away from the physical contact, but it doesn't happen. Instead, he tugs me closer until my body is pressed flush against his, my heartbeat pounding like a jackhammer against my chest.

"Ja--"

His lips collide with mine, cutting off my words, and I gasp as he kisses me. Leaning into him, the kiss is surprisingly gentle, and my hands snake around his neck as my eyelids flutter closed. After my fingers slide into his hair, he groans softly, and I use the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

We move in tandem, two bodies perfectly in sync with one another, as my heartbeat continues to race. Tugging at his lower lip with my teeth, his mouth slants against mine and his tongue traces my lips - the sensation sending a ripple of electricity through my body - and everything stops. In that moment, I forget how to breathe, how to think, how to speak.

The only thing that exists is the sensation of Bucky Barnes' lips pressing firmly against mine.

*****
AUTHOR'S NOTE

Oh hey, I'm back.

And you're welcome. I expect infinite comments + votes!

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