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Unexpectedly, fingers wrapped around my calf.

"The fu–Shit!"

Throwing glass at the guy was not... of any help. Nor was my head bouncing off the floorboards. With my world spinning, it probably was only a matter of time before he made my good ankle match the bum one with all the yanking.

Instinctively, my hand groped blindly at the floor for anything I could use to whack him with or something to stop my body from being dragged. When I finally managed to find my crutch, I swung only to have it caught in the wall. Slammed right through the drywall and got caught on a stud.

"Oh, bloody hell."

Before I could free the stupid metal support of mine, fat fingers wrapped around my neck. Fingers with the full weight of a man screaming down at me.

There wasn't much sense to the garbling, but blood sure got all over me.

'You better not fucking have AIDS!!!' Or anything contagious.

"Val...? Your oxygen levels have plummeted. Your stress levels have spiked...."

I couldn't reply. I couldn't find my voice. Not with it being squeezed out of me.

"...What is that blabbering? What the hell's happening in there!?!"

No matter how I squirmed around struggling with everything I had, he just wouldn't budge. His knee planted right up against my ribs. Only a matter of time before my bones caved to this fat bastard!

"If you need your taser, you usually keep it in one of your back pockets."

I had to fight my instincts to continue with the struggling. Knew I had to let go. Free up a hand to grab the taser and send electricity flooding into the body above mine.

The muscles in my neck twitched from where his hands clenched down. A punch to the side of his head helped guide him away from landing on my face.

Gasping for breath, I pulled my legs out from under his. Be it temper or paranoia, I unleashed the taser on him a couple more times.

"Enough. I thought you wanted to save him."

"Please... don't hurt him," a weak voice begged. The woman. The wife. The mother.

I fought for every breath, scrambling across the floor for distance. "Shit. He's got me all over him."

My skin was more than likely under those jagged nails of his.

'Ah shit, forgot to ask Bucky if he was scratched....'

Then again, his D.N.A. could be in the wounds on the fat bastard's face. Maybe even between his teeth. Not good. Not good at all.

Checking through the drawers, I found a mechanical pencil. In a pinch, it'd do for getting rid of nail scrapings of both the parents.

'...His hair wasn't tied up. Shit....'

My eyes searched the floor for any strands of medium length brown hair.

"We need a cleaner. I can't do all this in time," I half panicked and almost lost my cool completely when I spotted a familiar cap. One that usually sat on the dresser in Bucky's room.

'Just what else did he leave here?'

"I need a vacuum. Oh, I fucking need a bloody vacuum cleaner."

"We'll take care of everything. Get to the back alley. You need to be gone before people arrive."

"Huh? O-okay...?"

That didn't sit quite right with me, much like this room. So clean except for the blood and upturned furniture. No pictures in the room. Nothing on the walls. Couldn't even find toys for what was clearly the kid's room.

But we were out of time.

With a shrug, I grabbed the cap, checking that there weren't any strands of Bucky's hair left behind. Yanked my crutch out of the wall on my way down to the back door, and in my rush, almost bowled the kid over.

"Hey kid. Everything will be alright. Help's here. Your mum's under my care so long as you forget me and the man who was here. We were never here. Got it?"

The little boy gave a tense nod and scurried around me with an arm full of frozen goods.

As the front door opened, I quickly slipped out the back. I pulled on Bucky's cap so the bill would hide more of me, and froze in the alleyway.

'....'

There was an idling car just a house over.

'...So much for an unnoticed getaway.' I looked suspicious as fuck with the scary weirdly wrapped all about my head.

"Climb in."

I made sure my face was covered. The less anybody knew about me at this point, the better.

With a deep breath in, I opened the door and dropped myself into the backseat. The driver and I never exchanged a word. Didn't even glance at each other. I had no idea who she was, and knowing Eve, this driver hasn't a clue as to who I could be.

Nor the next car I hopped into.

Nor the next.

And with every car I got into, the more it sunk in. This was not how I imagined parting ways with Bucky. The little house was now far too dangerous for either of us. We both had to get out of D.C. now. It was semi safe when everyone thought we'd have booked it out of the city. That's no longer the case. Not with the kid and his parents.

'...What am I doing back –?!?'

I practically raced into the house I've been trapped in for the last few weeks.

"What the fuck am I doing back here?!" I demanded, slamming the back door shut behind me and storming my way to the kitchen sink to clean the blood off me. "Eve!!"

I shouldn't be here. I couldn't be back here. Not after that. This location's likely compromised or about to be.

"I can't move you," Eve replied, using the speakers now.

"Just what the hell is going on!?!"

"Valeriy?" Bucky called out, coming into the house through the basement door at the crack of dawn.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?!"

He stumbled back a step and almost right down the steps. Fear so clear in those bright blue eyes. "I-I can explain –"

"I can't – Shit. Just go sit on the couch, Bucky. I'll be right there," I said, scrambling to turn all the bloodied parts of the scarf inwards.

A frown pulled at the corner of his lips, but yet he still turned on a heel and walked into the living room.

If Eve brought Bucky back here as well, something was very wrong.

Whatever's happening, she still had plans that involved him. She would have jumped at the chance to squirrel him away. Far away from wherever we were until she was sure that he wouldn't hurt any of us because he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

'Just what kind of fucked up trouble am I in...?'

"They're alive," I told him, hoping to lift the tension that hung in the air.

It helped buy some time too. To grab the roll of paper towels and fill a bowl with water. To quickly adjust the scarf to cover any bruising. To hide all the blood on me. At least my shirt was black. A white one would have looked horrifying.

"The mom's alive?" With how small his voice was, it's almost painful to listen to. As if he couldn't dare to hope.

"Yup," I chirped, sitting down next to him. A smile slapped on my face.

Bucky yanked his hand back when I grabbed onto it. Practically flinched at the contact.

"Hey, it's okay. They're both alive. The kid's safe. Now, let me get that blood off you."

He didn't move away this time. Just sat there frowning. "...I wasn't the one who.... I didn't stab her."

I couldn't help the laugh, which I quickly muffled at his massive frown. "Already figured that wasn't you, Bucky."

I carefully tucked this hair behind his ears so he knew exactly what I was ding and not mistaken it for a slap. I wanted to wipe away the droplets of blood splattered across his cheeks and nose preferably before he got a clear look at it in a mirror. I could only hope that the windows he passed by weren't cleaned for a few years. He didn't need to see this.

There's only so much I could do with paper towels. He'd probably need a shower. Some blood got in his hair. Definitely got more than some in mine as well.

"Not too surprised about what happened," I continued. "Seems to be what you naturally do. Saving people."

Bucky's brow furrowed even more at the last bit. Rather tempted to try and push them part. Or to poke the corners of his mouth into some semblance of his norm. Maybe even a small smile.

I liked his smile. It's pretty. And might never happen again. Unless he forgot himself... maybe.

Wiping the last little splatter off his cheek, I quirked a brow at him. "What? She's covered in bruises and his hands are all banged up. It's not hard to give you the benefit of the doubt either. Especially since I'm one of the people you saved, Bucky."

He let me move onto his hand, instead of yanking it away again. His knuckles weren't even marred after what happened. Pretty sure that was the hand he was using. His metal arm would have struggled with him and probably would have left the man dead.

I guess his skin's been enhanced for durability. 'But it's still so soft and smooth. What the fuck? So not fair.'

I highly doubt he bothered with a blood skincare routine. Naturally flawless. Or maybe it had something to do with being super healthy. Or the sped up healing.

"The father... he saw my face," he admitted in a small voice, panic seeping into the syllables. "Valeriy, the kid. They both saw –"

"It's been taken care of."

"What the hell did you do?"

"Bit of advice I learned from sticking my nose where I shouldn't have. Can't un-know things, so be careful what you ask."

'Oh, now he thinks we're like Hydra.' At least that's what it felt like with how he looked at me, backing away.

"They're not dead. Isn't that good enough? We're making sure they stay alive. The father will be kept away from the kid. It's what the kid wants," I explained to him.

"...And the kid? What's going to happen to him?"

I shrugged. "Eve's keeping an eye on him. He'll have someone to look after him."

'Don't ask how I'm shutting the kid up. Don't ask about the mother. Please don't ask about the mother.'

I won't lie to him, and I doubt he'd be alright with how we're going to keep her in a coma for who knows how long. How I threatened a kid with his mother's life. He might put the blame for my actions on himself. I couldn't have that.

"If the two of you don't mind spending most of your time upstairs quietly, then I can put the anthropophobic author in play. I can't completely trust the soundproofing of this house."

"How about we clean up? And then we'll get cracking on that arm of yours."

Whatever the fuck's going on, it's better for him to have use of both his arms. As soon as possible.

Bucky didn't respond. Not entirely sure he processed what I said. He merely stared at the scarf around my neck, the guilt pouring out of him enough to choke a person.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his right hand reaching out towards me.

The moment I spotted him hesitating, I tilted my head into his hand. He backed away so fast as if I was on fire. Shock and horror so clear in those blue eyes.

I flashed him a toothy grin. Easily. Naturally. Nothing forced to it. "You didn't hurt me, Bucky."

"Then what's that bruise you're covering...?"

"Uhhh... Not caused by you? The fat bastard was rather... umm energetic? To which, before I forget to ask, do you want us to fix his face? We're going to keep him alive either way."

It's rather amusing watching Bucky's thoughts morph the features of his face. The doubt. The anger. The utter confusion as to what the hell was coming out of my mouth.

"Why ask me?" were the words he decided on.

"You're probably the only one who'd care? Eve and I don't give a fuck. Though I do have half the mind to wire his jaw shut. The fat bastard could rot alive and the kid probably wouldn't bat an eye?"

'The wife might care, for some reason beyond me.'

"So the decision's yours. You can think about it over a shower. You'll feel better... probably. I need one too."

I did not expect Bucky to grab the end of the scarf when I headed for the stairs. Would have choked if he didn't let go as fast as he did.

I quickly unravelled the thin piece of cloth and grabbed his right hand, fitting it around my neck. "None of the bruises match, yeah?" Hoping to hell that was true.

Some sort of struggle could be seen on his face as his eyes flicked from my neck to my face. Almost questioning me about something I couldn't piece together. Like he couldn't believe that he wasn't the one to mar the skin... maybe? But judging by how his fingers kept moving, he couldn't find anything that matched his hand.

"This needs to be iced," he said after some time.

"Probably. But I want to shower first. I can still feel his grubby paws on me."

At that, Bucky's knees bent, and his shoulder knocked right where a knee had been before he hoisted me up. A quick push with my hands moved my weight off that sore spot.

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he murmured.

"Eh, I came out in one piece. Pretty used to things going sideways. Besides, I wanted you far away from that mess. Somewhere safe."

I could hear a little huff from him. Though I felt most of it from the small shift of his shoulder I was draped over.

"Val, your parents are asking if you want those chocolate mints from Harrods'. How many boxes?"

That came out of the blue. I haven't been expecting anything. Especially with how I'm basically out of commission to them.

"Thre – Bucky? You like chocolate mints?"

The shoulder under me raised in what I assumed to be a shrug.

"It's yummy. And crunchy. And melty. Five boxes please and thank you!"

"I shall pass that on and cut it down to three. You're going to get sick of it by box two."

To which I pouted like the child I am when I wanted to shove a bunch of sugar in my face.

As Bucky lowered me onto my feet in my bathroom, he mumbled into the top of my head. "Thank you... for stopping me."

"What are friends for?" I shot back.

"...Fix his face. It doesn't have to be perfect." With that, he closed the door behind him on his way out, and I beamed a smirk at the camera.

"...Honestly wasn't expecting that answer. I'm off my game."

"Get on the bloody doctors already."

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Author's Note:

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