Water trickles down my face and arms as I stand beneath the scalding stream of the garage apartment shower. Eyes closed, I take one last deep breath through my nose before the bubbles from my shampoo are all rinsed out of my hair. The stresses from the night before are gathered in my body in the form of tight knots in my shoulders and kinks in my spine. I feel the weight of what Bucky said to me on the drive home from the club last night resting heavily on my heart: I'm just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart. He'd been the one to appear bursting through the crowd at the sound of one of the bridesmaid's loud squeals. It'd been over something stupid—seeing an old friend from high school across the club dancefloor. But before I could think twice, I was seeing my boyfriend pop out of thin air into the once relaxing scene. The look on Bucky's face, the one of strict composure and somberness, was one I'd only ever seen a few times before: like when he'd rescued me out in that alley or when I'd seen his picture being played on war footage news clips. He managed to make his presence in the club secret from my friends but it'd been spoiled for me. I approached him at the bar a while later, knowing that there was a reason he was sticking around—spying on me—and wearing that grim look on his face. I was right, of course. Bucky told me everything then: all while I poured back a few shots and he kept making nervous glances over our shoulders. That's when he'd said it. "I'm just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart." I've had no doubts the past few months that he would, but seeing the expression of fear breaking through his face last night has me worried... pairing that with the facts he was giving me, including that man he shot dead at the wedding venue only the night before, I'm more afraid for my life now than I've ever been.

Peeking open an eye, I spot Bucky's body wash sitting on the shelf next to the razor cream. I reach out for it thoughtlessly. The stuff is maple syrup-colored but smells spicier than its sweet look-alike. I pop open the lid just to get a good sniff. The back of the bottle says "woodsy", but when all I can smell is James Buchanan Barnes and a rainy, cuddly Sunday afternoon, pillow forts and bubble baths after bad days, and snorting laughter on long car rides.

I squeeze a bit of the soap onto my own hand. I rub it around my arms and stomach until the remnants wash down the drain with my previous worries. Feeling slightly better I set the bottle back on the shelf. I shut off the water and hop out of the stall to wrap myself in a towel and then a robe. I run a brush through my hair while rubbing away the steam from the washroom mirror. I sigh to find I've got dark circles under my eyes. I'll need lots of concealer to hide these today. The wedding is in fifteen hours. I'll be standing up in front of hundreds of people. I can't possibly look as tired and afraid as I feel on the inside.

I'm careful to stay considerately quiet on my way out of the bathroom. When I'd hopped in a few minutes before, Bucky had been sleeping. Now, as I walk into the room, he looks like a normal tired boyfriend—wrapped up in quilts with his mouth hanging open to one side of the pillow and his empty arms opened in the same way. Bucky Barnes is anything but a normal boyfriend, though. If I look harder at the picture I can see it clearly: the gun sticking out from beneath his pillow, the knife he has sitting next to his alarm clock, and the glaring metal arm that twitches with his unsettling dreams.

I make my way to Bucky's side of the bed on quiet feet. I'm careful not to startle him as I lean over to brush my fingers through his shaggy hair. He makes an attempt at hiding his face into pillow in protest of morning's arrival.

"Wake up," I laugh softly. "It's time to wake up." I tug gently on Bucky's ear. He has a scar that runs along his lobe, almost as if he's had a piercing in the past, yet I know his past well enough to know that's probably not the case.

Bucky mumbles something sleepily before rolling over to look up at me. I tilt my head away from the sunlight from the window as his eyes blink rapidly to try and focus on my features. "G'morning, beautiful." His voice is hoarse and incredibly sexy.

I pick up his hand to kiss his soft skinned wrist. I run my thumb across his knuckles. "You ready for today?"

Bucky's big blue eyes framed with loose wrinkles of skin and long, luscious lashes momentarily squeeze closed as if it pains him to be reminded of what we have to do today. "No," he admits—voice still drugged with sleep. His eyes peep at me again. He says not a word more, but he doesn't have to. I know that it's not Laurie's wedding he's so caught up in. It's the thought of this mystery threat of mine knowing exactly where I'll be today, in a room full of people I love, where hundreds of strangers will all be around as possible victims and perpetrators.

I reach up with my other hand to once again comb back Bucky's rustled hair. He watches me carefully as I speak. "It's all going to be okay," I promise emptily. "There's a chance nothing goes wrong and we get a lucky day today." I try my best to smile hopefully at him.

Bucky tries his best to smile back. He pulls himself to a seat on the edge of the low bed. He stretches both arms out to grab my waist and pull me between his parted legs. He curls his arms around my body and rests his face against the soft fabric of my robe—the bow at my stomach pressed against his cheek.

"I'm supposed to be the one comforting you," he chuckles lowly. His voice vibrates the air lowly. His laughter—even while so small and strained—is like the familiar bass line of a favorite song to my ears. I smile lazily to hear it.

I lightly scratch my fingernails up and down his back. He hums and nuzzles his face tighter against my lower belly. "You smell different," Bucky comments. He peers up at me with a comically raised brow.

"I may have borrowed your soap," I admit unashamedly.

"I'm happy to share," Bucky replies, "But I prefer it when you smell like you and not me." He closes his eyes again and hugs me tighter.

I giggle. "I'll keep that in mind."

We're both quiet for a moment longer as we simply share the peaceful pause in time. Then, I break the silence by asking aloud, "Are you as scared as I am?"

Bucky sighs heavily. He gently guides me down beside him onto the bed before picking up my legs and sliding me into his lap. He lays his head on my shoulder and kisses my cheek. "Honestly?" I nod and he adds, "I've never been more afraid of anything than I am to lose you." He waits as I let that sink in. Then, he says, "But that just means that I'm going to fight extra hard to keep you." He illustrates by squeezing his arms around my waist with extra fierceness. "I know how much today means to you, and you know how much you mean to me. So I'm going to make sure both you and what you want aren't bothered by a single thing today. That's what I'm gonna do." He smiles at me softly. "I promise."

I smile back. When he expects me to say something sweet, all that leaves my mouth is, "Your breath really stinks, Buck."

Bucky laughs—pushing me off of his lap until I land with a soft thud amongst the sheets. I squeal and he laughs harder as I try to roll myself back to a proper seat.

It rains later today. It's just turned noon when the first specks start to fall from the sky. I peek outside my passenger seat window at the daunting rainclouds as Bucky drives us to the venue. He's already dressed up in suit and tie beside me. His hand rests soft yet sternly on my knee. Wanda's in the backseat.

"Do you think they'll move the ceremony inside?" Wanda asks me. She worriedly glances at her hair and makeup in the pocket mirror she keeps in her beige clutch.

"Probably not." I shrug. Thankfully Laurie only sees the downpour as a newlywed's blessing, and we're lucky that the rain is only a sprinkle. It'll be fine enough to stay outside for the vows before rushing back inside for cake and partying.

"I hope my hair holds up," Wanda comments from the backseat. "It took us forever to curl it."

I smile back at her. "You'll look pretty either way." Her dress is slightly different than mine but the soft peach color is the same. Mine's got long, lacey sleeves to signify my maid of honor status where hers is strapless like the other bridesmaids. They both have long, flowy skirts and we wear a few white flower clips in our teased and curled hair.

Bucky pulls the car as close to the curb as he can to keep us from getting the trains of our dresses muddy and soiled on our way inside. Wanda grabs my hand when we make our way into the building alone. It's easy to see that Bucky's not the only one being protective and worrisome about my safety today.

The only ones that have arrived so far are the members of the wedding party. The wedding planner is trying to keep everyone on task and remembering where we're supposed to be and when. We're told the guests will arrive in an hour. Bucky helps me carry the huge, buttercream heavy cake to the pedestal at the center of the reception hall. The lights high above on the curved beams shine down perfectly on the tiers and their sunny colors.

While I'm standing back to double-check my own work, I feel Bucky's hand slide to the small of my back. He kisses the top of my head. "You're so talented," he mumbles into my hair.

I roll my eyes. Tilting my head towards him, I close my eyes. I can hear him scoff. "Aren't you worried about ruining your lipstick?"

"Kiss me, idiot," I whisper. I peek open an eye in enough time to see him smiling at me softly. Carefully, as if he's trying his hardest to remain gentle, Bucky's metal hand cups my cheek. He draws me in for a soft, smooth kiss with the taste of peppermint being shared between our mouths.

"I love you," he says when he pulls away. I see lots of strange things flittering around the color of his deep blue eyes. He's on edge today, and I am too.

"And I love you," I reply. I squeeze his biceps (or what I can fit my fingers around) and turn back towards the cake. "And everything's going to be okay."

Bucky sighs. "I hope you're right."

Laurie shows up in her dress a half an hour later than she's meant to be. I laugh as she runs into the reception hall with two or three frantic bridesmaids behind her. They're trying to straighten out her veil and pluck fluffs of fuzz from the static fabric of her beautiful white gown. Her long blonde hair is braided and curled with living flowers in all shades and peach and pink tucked between the tresses. Bucky gives her a hug, telling her she looks beautiful, and I do the same—lingering longer on my hug because I love her just that much. I feel my eyes start to well up with tears and she's already crying when I pull her to arm's length.

"This is it, girly." I fix a smudge of lipstick on the side of her mouth. "I was right all along to say you were going to be the first of us to get hitched."

"Duh," Laurie laughs. "You were always too damn picky." She glances behind us to where Bucky stands—watching quietly, but appearing as if he's looking out the window. "Looks like it paid off for you in the end though. He is a snack," Laurie hisses the last part discreetly. She's right though: my boyfriend is the most attractive person here. If someone wasn't paying enough attention they may actually mistake him for a piece of art hanging there against the wall with his swoopy dark hair and sharp jaw. His piercing blue eyes are only made more striking with the dark navy blue of his velvet suit.

"Calm down," I laugh through a heavy blush. I loop my arm through hers and take her to where the cake is set up. "I wanna show you something..."

By the time the guests arrive the wedding party has been crammed into a waiting room in order of procession for when we walk down the aisle. As maid of honor I'll go right before the flower girl. I can see that it's still drizzling outside. Some people hold umbrellas over their heads but most people just endure the slightly soggy weather. It's almost romantic. The sun is still shining, that's all that really matters.

There are hundreds of people out there. I can't see any of their faces. Their backs are all turned to me. I can see backs of heads of varying sizes and styles and the sheer vastness of the sea of strangers overwhelms me. Even without the threat against my life I'd be worried about stepping out in front of so many people.

"You ready?"

I look up to the face of the man who's come beside me. He's a friend of Nathan's assigned to be my aisle-buddy. He's the best man—a tall fellow with too much gel in his ginger hair.

I nod despite the feeling of unsureness radiating through me. I don't want to ruin this for Laurie. She's my best friend in the whole world... if she knew about the danger I'm putting everyone in today simply by being here, she'd have called the whole thing off. I can't do that to her. I have to go on like nothing's wrong, despite the fact that I've got a potential murderer waiting for me out in that crowd of partygoers.

It's then that I hear Bucky's voice in my ear.

"I got my eye on you, sugar. You're okay."

Then I hear Steve.

"Nothing to raise any eyebrows yet. We're in the clear."

Sam Wilson comes next.

"Are you guys sure I can't leave my post to grab a snack? The dessert bar is killing me right now."

No, I'm not imagining things. I've been fitted with a very discreet, very high-tech earpiece to last me the duration of the wedding. Bucky told Steve and Sam that I wasn't going to skip out on the wedding and they took that as their cue to fly across the country to be back-up for Bucky.

Sam's back again. "I see crème brulee!"

It takes everything in me not to let out a soft giggle.

"I'm ready," I say aloud. The best man beside me assumes it's for him. "I think."

"Don't be nervous," he replies with a wide smile. "What's the worst that could happen?" he tries to squeeze our entwined arms reassuringly.

"Umm, we could all die," Sam mutters.

"Sam!" Steve scolds.

"Everyone shut the hell up," Bucky gripes. "Ignore them, Sadie. Just listen to me: I'm two rows back on your side of the stage. If anything happens, I'll be right here. The whole building is secured. Nothing's getting past us."

Wanda glances back at me with a subtle nod. She's positioned a few paces ahead with her assigned aisle-buddy. They're the first to be let out into the rain. The door opens and she steps out in time with her groomsman.

"Who forgot to invite me?" Nat's voice comes into the mix.

"Nat?! What the hell are you doing here," Sam squeaks.

"Stark told me where you fuckers would be. Honestly, I'm offended you didn't invite me."

"You guys are distracting me," I close my eyes and mutter. It's coming up on my turn to walk down the aisle but I'm nearly unaware.

"What?" The man beside me asks. The poor bloke looks so confused.

"Sorry, sorry." I shake my head up at him. "I was just—just thinking out loud."

Unconvinced, the ginger quickly looks away. He must think I'm crazy.

"Don't think about it, doll. Just do your thing." I can almost hear the smile in Bucky's voice as he says, "And you so fuckin' pretty."

His attempt to get me settled away from my fears nearly works as I step out into the rain. The dew drops hit my cheeks and my feet the soft floor and I'm focusing on controlling my breathing and my walking speed. Keep in time with the song; keep in time with the beat... I keep repeating it to myself until it's all I can hear. I try to keep a soft smile on my face as I look around the crowd. My family's here somewhere, but the first face I spot through them all is Bucky's. He's got a smug grin on his lips despite it all. And when I look at him, the rest all just... disappears. Maybe it's because I'm so deeply in love with him that nothing else seems to matter anymore, or maybe it's because he's casted some sort of spell on me with those gorgeous blue eyes: I can never be totally sure. But when I look out at him now, all I see his Bucky.

I share a smile with him before being forced to look away. I watch where I step as I climb the few steps to my waiting spot on the small gazebo stage. Here I'm safe from the rain and get to comfortably wait as the petite four year old flower girl makes her way down the aisle—tossing petals into the air and making the audience giggle. I search out the familiar faces in the crowd: my mom and sister being two of them. I spot my brother quickly after, having to force myself not to wave giddily, and see that Bucky's only a few rows ahead. He winks at me, almost causing me to roll my eyes, and I have to look away to keep from blushing. And in this moment it feels as normal, fancy-free, and relaxed as I'd imagined it to be before this whole messy thing with my life began...

The moment ends only when my eyes settle upon a familiar face in the crowd. It's not anyone I can actively remember seeing before, yet I know I've stumbled across him at least once in my life. It's not until I realize that his eyes are trained on me specifically and not just the wedding party as a whole do I get that creepy-crawling sensation in the pit of my gut.

That's when I recognize him fully. The moment I'd first seen his bearded face floods to the forefront of my mind just as the shuffling of feet sounds and the audience all stands to signify the entrance of the bride.

Peering out of my bedroom window, I notice that there's someone standing there across the street. Amongst the bustling, sparse crowd he stands erect with his body unmoving. Beyond that, his eyes seem to be trained up at me. I don't recognize his face nor his big burly beard or tinted sunglasses. I don't know this man. I wonder if it's just coincidence that he's chosen to stare up at me. People look at this tower all the time: it is the Avenger's home, after all. But something tells me that this man's fascination is something less sincere in this moment as I find him staring up at me. To test the theory I raise a hand. My almost-wave leaves no visible change on the man's face. The only thing to be altered is the movement of his fingers. What once hung unused down his sides now move upwards. The gesture that overtakes the spidery filaments is that of a "come hither" dexterously creepy notion. I watch as the action continues on in this silent stranger's beckoning of me. Before I can think twice I've cowardly ducked out of view: hiding myself behind the curtain that had once been closed.

Breathing deeply I close my eyes. Hand over my heart I take a quick pause to collect myself. Then, with all the courage I have, I pull back a corner of the drawers to peek back down to the street.

The rain, along with the man, are both gone.

But now he's back. Here: in Oregon, at my best friend's wedding.

He smirks at me through the beard and I can feel my heart lodge into my throat. I turn my face away, pretending as though I haven't seen him, and look to my best friend as she gracefully floats down the aisle.

I've never been more afraid in my entire life. I can only hold my breath and pray that everything will be okay. That we'll make it through today without ruining everything Laurie's wanted her whole life. That this man in the crowd won't get to me before Bucky can to him. And that above all else, I make it out of this wedding alive.