T H E first night in the safe house, Bucky made a surprisingly delicious fettuccine alfredo. In fact, Ivy thought it might have been the best pasta she'd ever had. But it also could've been the fact that she hadn't eaten all day after the grueling mission, Tony and Steve's lecture and the drive to their new temporary home.
The pair ate their meal mostly in silence that was only broken by a comment Ivy made after she had the first bite complimenting Bucky on his cooking. Bucky only grunted and shrugged in response.
Other than that, they ate quickly and Bucky disappeared to his room while Ivy did the dishes before scurrying into her own.
'He must've remembered how to cook from before his Hydra days,' she thought to herself, 'I didn't think men cooked in the 1940s.'
Ivy plopped down on her bed suddenly realizing how completely and utterly exhausted she was. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
~ ~ ~ ~
Ivy woke feeling cold and stiff. She was in a cell–a room she knew all too well–she could hear screams coming from the outside. Nasty, blood-curdling screams that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The one window Ivy had in her concrete cage was in the top right corner, it had no light flowing through it. It must be the middle of the night.
The screams came closer and closer until she could hear the frightened man speak, "Please, please! It was a mistake, take me! Do not hurt my sisters. Let them go! We just wanted to help... we just wanted to help."
The voice was panicked and filled with desperation, but Ivy knew it anywhere: Pietro.
She sprang up from her uncomfortable metal box that Hydra considered a bed and ran to the locked door.
Ivy began to pound on it and yell to her poor brother, "Pietro! Pietro, it will be okay I promise!"
"Ivy!" He yells back.
"No, no, no. Let him go!" She screamed through the large door that separated them, hoping that someone, anyone, would listen.
Ivy felt hot tears begin to fall from her sunken and tired eyes.
"Ivy," Pietro continued to plead with the agents who are no doubt strapping him to a table now to give him another round of treatments, "Ivy! Ivy! Ivy!"
Pietro's voice started to fade and so did the depressing scene around her. Her brother's voice was replaced with one that was quieter but still panicked and somehow also soft, "Ivy!"
Ivy's eyes fly open. She's breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. She looked around to find herself back in the room at the safe house with Bucky on top of her holding her down. His comforting blue eyes were ridden with worry, "Ivy?" He spoke softly as if he wasn't sure if she was all there yet.
Ivy felt sticky, there was a layer of sweat covering her. She was still breathing heavily and trying to process everything.
To her surprise, Bucky put her into a seated position, she was practically on top of him now, and pulled her into a tight hug.
He hadn't hugged anyone since... well he couldn't remember.
"I read somewhere that hugging someone tightly when they're having an anxiety attack makes them calm down. Supposed to feel like you're being swaddled or whatever." Bucky explained, "It probably works after a nightmare too, right?"
Ivy nodded into his shoulder, she felt safe in his strong arms.
"So this is why you're up so late?" he asks, she can sense that he's smiling a little.
Ivy nodded again.
"Here I thought you were doing all that for me," he chuckles lightly, "y'know the staying up late and researching nightmares."
"I guess I did it for both of us, Buck," she leaned back to look into his eyes, still breathing heavy but definitely feeling calmer.
Bucky gave her a sad smile and placed his thumb on her cheekbone softly, "Do you wanna talk about it?"
Ivy furrowed her brow, "The dream, I mean," he specified.
"Oh... um not really."
"Okay."
Suddenly, Ivy realized that she was basically sitting on Bucky's lap. She removed her arms from around his neck and slid to the side to sit on her bed.
Bucky oddly liked holding her so close to him. It was a foreign feeling for him but he enjoyed being a source of comfort instead of fear for a change.
"You kept yelling out the name 'Pietro,'" Bucky prodded, "Is Pietro–is he... is that your uh..."
"I don't want to talk about it, Barnes," Ivy snapped and shot him a cold look. Her eyes probably flashed purple. She didn't like to talk about her brother, especially with people who were practically strangers–like Bucky.
He nodded, pushed himself off Ivy's bed and walked to the door.
"Thank you for your help," she whispered, already feeling awful about her unnecessary coldness towards him.
"Anytime," Bucky started to close her door, "Good night, Maximoff."
"Hey! That's my line!" Even through the darkness Ivy could feel Bucky's smile.
Ivy was still supposed to hate him. She needed to understand why he tackled her that day. Why did he feel as though it was worth putting the lives of innocent people in danger? And why couldn't he tell her?
~ ~ ~ ~
Thankfully, Ivy slept a dreamless sleep after her little interlude with Bucky. She woke up the next morning at 6am–which was extremely early for her.
With some newfound energy she jumped out of bed and threw on her soft grey robe before heading down the hall to the kitchen.
It seemed like Bucky wasn't awake yet so she thought she'd make breakfast for the both of them. She may not be able to cook, but she can bake. So pancakes it was!
Luckily, all the ingredients were in the pantry already. Whoever made up the grocery list for their stay here did an amazing job, it was almost scarily accurate. She even found chocolate chips to add!
Ivy began mixing everything together and turning on the stove. She found a flat pan and poured some of the thick batter into it.
Just then, she heard something coming from outside the house–footsteps. The footsteps started to walk up to the front porch.
Ivy raced down the hall to grab her gun. She leaned against the wall from the hallway, pistol in hand ready to fire at the intruder.
She heard the door unlock and wondered if this person had a key to their house. The door creaked open and quickly slammed shut. Whoever this was wasn't trying to be discreet.
Ivy heard the intruder take off their shoes, she quickly turned the corner and pointed the gun in their direction.
"Holy fuck! Ivy!" Bucky put his hands up.
"Barnes! I thought you were asleep! You idiot! Where did you go?" Ivy let out the breath she was holding.
"Doll, you need to relax. I went on a run."
Doll? Ivy never thought Bucky was one for pet names, especially since she was pretty sure he didn't even like her.
"Can you put the gun down please so I can take off my other shoe?" Bucky gestured to the weapon Ivy was holding and then down to his half-untied left shoe.
"Oh! Um, yeah. Sorry," she smiled sheepishly and lowered the pistol.
"Why did you grab a gun? You have powers that are much more powerful than that thing," He pointed to the weapon in her hand.
"Exactly, they're too powerful. I'd end up blowing the whole front door off and then we'd be cold so... the gun was a little more discreet," Ivy looked down at the gun in her hand. She hated guns, they were almost always unnecessary and caused more damage than there needed to be. But then again, some could say the same thing about Ivy herself–she, too, was unnecessary and dangerous.
Bucky sniffed the air, "Is something burning?"
"Shit! You made me burn the pancakes!" Ivy yelled back at him as she ran to the kitchen to take her now burnt breakfast off the stove.
"You made pancakes?" Bucky called back, "What happened to Miss 'I-Don't-Cook?'"
Bucky sauntered into the old fashioned kitchen, "I can bake, not cook," she replied.
"Are you sure about that?" He gestured to the blackened pancake in the pan.
Ivy smirked, "Ha, ha, ha. That's on you, bud. You scared me. Besides, it was only one. I made more batter so it's fine."
"Good 'cause I'm starving." Bucky plopped down at one of the wooden chairs around the dining table and leaned back to rub his stomach, "So... do you bake other things? Like... oh I don't know... pie?" He smiled.
Ivy had to admit, Bucky looked a lot happier than he was when they found him in Bucharest. The therapy must be working.
She laughed, "Yes Buck, I can make pie."
"Alright well... just so you know... rhubarb is my favourite," Bucky grinned an adorable half smirk at Ivy, his eyes sparkling with the thought of his favourite dessert. She knew she must have been imagining the little wink he gave her.
"Well then, I'll keep that in mind."
~ ~ ~ ~
Alright this chapter was cute!!!
I really wish I could write an author's note like the ones I always see on fanfics that are so crazy and ridiculous. They're always like: "oh sorry for the slow updates! I got kidnapped then I got a cat who turned out to be evil and tried to kill me and then I broke all the bones in my body and now I'm married," but my life is literally so boring. Oh well.
Anywayyyyy, I hope everyone enjoyed! Make sure to vote/comment and all that jazz. :)
Until next time, S