Lost + Found [Bucky Barnes] ✓

Chapter 43

The flight back to DC took longer than I would've liked. We didn't have the jet, since T'Challa returned with it to Wakanda, so we were forced to charter a private plane that would take us from the small airport near Patras to Washington D.C. It was a long flight, and I'm certain none of us got the sleep we needed - except Sam.

Bucky glued himself to my side, keeping his fingers interlaced with mine at all times, until finally I pretended to fall asleep so he could go talk to Steve. I knew they wanted to discuss options and strategy, but neither of them wanted to burden me with any more stress than what I was already under. I want to be grateful, but the stress of anticipation is eating at me no matter what.

They can't shelter me from the knowledge that my sister is a murderer.

Once we landed, T'Challa had an armored black SUV waiting for us upon arrival. The four of us climbed inside, Steve taking the wheel, and we drove into the city with silence falling upon us like a heavy blanket.

After what happened in Monastiraki Square, we knew that the likelihood was high that there was an ambush waiting for us. However, this video didn't include a directive for me to come alone, so we wouldn't be separated in the case of an attack. Steve and Sam were hopeful that this gave us a competitive edge, while I was nervous that this meant all of us would be captured instead of just me or Bucky.

We slowed to a stop on a familiar street, trees lining either side of the road, as my heartbeat began to hammer in my chest. Steve turned off the engine, and we all sat in silence for a second before Bucky cleared his throat.

"Whatever happens, it's going to be okay," he reassures me, squeezing my hand tightly.

I nod, unsure of what to say. I could be leading my friends into a trap, and that knowledge isn't sitting well with me. I've already seen enough death over the last month, some of it at my own hands, so I know I won't survive if I have to watch Bucky and the others die as well.

Then again, they don't want Bucky dead.

I shiver at the thought, especially since I know he would rather die than end up in someone else's control again. He's finally gained the freedom of his own mind, and even that is shaky at best, so the risk of losing it again...I can't even imagine how difficult that must be for him.

Taking a deep breath, I look both ways before crossing the street and head straight for the front door of my building. The front door buzzes open after I punch in my code, and I hesitate after grabbing the handle. Once I step inside this building, there's no telling what is waiting for me. What is waiting for the three men trailing behind me. I take a moment to glance over my shoulder at them, and Bucky gives me a reassuring smile.

We take the stairs, moving quietly to the fifth floor, before I stop outside of the door to the hallway. Steve nods at Sam, and he takes off up the stairwell - skipping two at a time - leaving me alone with two enhanced super soldiers. My palms are sweaty, nerves causing my fingers to quake uncontrollably, so I ball my hands into tight fists in an attempt to force stillness on my body.

Bucky and I follow Steve into the corridor, allowing him to guide us through the familiar halls of my apartment building until we arrive at my door. Everything around me screams home, but my muscles refuse to relax. I can barely think straight, let alone relax, as my pulse continues to race. I can hear it, slamming against my eardrums like a jackhammer, and I force my lungs to expand with fresh oxygen as Steve signals to Bucky before swinging the door open.

"Come in!" A familiar voice calls out, sending chills down my spine as Bucky sends a panicked look at Steve.

We trickle into the apartment, closing the door softly behind us, and I'm shocked by the sight in front of us. Bloodstains still cover most of the living room, whilst bullet holes riddle the walls and the furniture. My mind flashes back to the day I found Artemis' friends dead, and I resist the urge to vomit as I take another step into my old home.

"Hey sis," Artemis quips, her tone pleasant as we turn to see her in the kitchen waving a gun. "Welcome home."

Mara sits in front of her, hands cuffed behind her back with a sock stuffed in her mouth, and her blue eyes widen at the sight of me. Tear tracks stain her pale cheeks whilst a new onslaught threatens to erupt from the corners of her eyes at any given moment. Bruises speckle her skin, and a cut on her cheekbone is crusted with dark crimson blood.

"Artemis," I croak, overwhelmed by the sight of my best friend's beaten body huddled in front of my baby sister. "Ari, let Mara go."

She snorts, dragging the barrel of the gun down Mara's cheek, causing her to whimper in fear, "Do you really think that you're in the position to bargain with me? That's not how this works, Chlo."

"Then tell me how it works," I reply, stepping forward only to have Bucky grab my hand.

His blue eyes flash a warning, and I nod in recognition. Don't get too close. We don't know what she can do, and we don't know what she's hiding. Instead, I study my sister carefully. Her features look exactly the same, but her eyes reveal a darkness that I've never seen before on her face. I can't help but remember that we were standing in this kitchen together a month ago, probably arguing about which character we liked best on The Vampire Diaries, and now look at us.

"What happened, Ari?" I ask nervously. "What did they do to you?"

Her harsh laughter bites through me like a knife, "What happened? What happened? They made me better. They made me stronger. I'm not weak, like I used to be, and they gave me a gift. With it, I can help shape a generation."

"I've heard that lie before," Bucky says softly.

Artemis' eyes flash with anger, "I should be honored, I suppose, to be in the presence of the great Winter Soldier. Too bad he's gone, replaced by a little bitch with no balls. I thought you'd be more impressive when I saw you up close, but damn. Hydra really fucked up when they thought you were their greatest weapon."

"Artemis..." I draw her attention away from Bucky. "Let Mara go, and we can talk about this, okay?"

She blinks twice, "Let her go? You abandoned me, sis. I watched all of my friends die because of you, so I'm just here to repay the favor. After all, I forgot to tell you thank you."

"Ari," I begin.

Groaning, she rolls her eyes.

"This is getting boring," she interrupts, lifting her gun and firing a round into Mara's stomach. "You'll thank me later."

Steve jumps forward, grabbing Artemis' wrist and twisting it until the gun is pointed away from him. Her skin grows red, and she smiles wickedly as he drops her arm as his hand begins to burn. Pivoting away, she fires several rounds at him before he sends an elbow into her face and knocks the gun to the floor.

I take the opportunity to rush forward, pulling the gag out of Mara's mouth, and pressing my hands against the crimson stain blossoming across her midsection. Bucky breaks the cuffs holding her hands with a single tug, and he catches her as she slumps forward into my arms.

The door to the apartment bangs open just as he lifts Mara into his arms, and Sam rushes inside.

"We've got company," he says, meeting Bucky's gaze.

Meanwhile, Steve continues to battle against Artemis, who - even with her fire power - is no match for the blonde super soldier. He twists expertly, knocking her head into the cabinetry with such a force that I can't help but wince at the sight of her body crumpling to the floor.

"Chloe," Artemis sobs, struggling to push herself upright. Her brown eyes are glassy with tears as her whole body shakes, "Chloe, help me. Please....I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this."

Steve watches her carefully, taking a step backward when Artemis squeezes her eyes shut and bites back a scream as she struggles against her inner self. Her skin glows like an ember, and my eyes grow wide at the implication.

Before anything can happen, Steve grabs a wooden cutting board from the counter and swings it toward her. It collides with her head with a dull thud, echoing through the apartment, and she slumps to the ground, unconscious.

"Sorry," he mutters, lifting her carefully to sling her limp body over his shoulder before nodding at the rest of us. "Time to go."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

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