Marvel One Shots

Gone - Bucky Barnes

There was a knock on the door and, thinking it was just a package you had ordered, you opened the door. But standing there on your doorstep was Steven Grant Rogers, one of your closest friends. You quickly tried to close the door, but he stuck his foot out to stop it, and made his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.

"I can't believe it's really you..." he said, seemingly out of breath.

"I can't believe you found me..." you told him in response. "I figured it's been five years now, so you'd have given up already."

"I could never give up on finding you, you should have known that." He gave you a half smile. "And to think, all this time you've been right across town..."

"To be fair to you, I've only been here for a month." Steve looked up at you questioningly. "I've been all over the world, Steve. You just get a bit homesick sometimes." You shrug. "Hungry? I just made pasta." You ask him, turning around and making your way to the kitchen.

"Sure. But Y/N-" you turn around sharply, cutting him off.

"Steve. Let's talk about this after we eat, okay? I'd like to get something in my stomach before we ruin my appetite."

"Fine..." he stands there crossing his arms.

"Well, don't be a stranger, come serve yourself. You know how pasta night works." You finish making your bowl of pasta and head over to the table. Setting your plate down, you make your way back to the kitchen. "I was going to have wine, but, I don't think that's smart considering the conversation we'll be having. Do you want a soda?" You ask as you look into your fridge.

"I'll just have water." He says, plating his own pasta.

"Alright, the cups are in the left-most cabinet" you reach into the fridge and pull out a can of (soda of your choice).

You make your way back to the table, Steve joining you slightly after. You both eat in awkward silence, neither wanting to break the ice. You finish eating, and you return to the kitchen to clean the dishes and put the rest of the food away.

"Can I be of any assistance?" Steve asks, bringing his bowl and cup to the sink with him.

"Um... If you want to clean the dishes while I put away the food, that'd be great." You say, giving him the sponge and soap.

He takes them from your hands, wordlessly, and you both return to that state of awkward silence. The only sound that can be heard is the sound of the dishware, and the running water. Once the two of you have finished, you reach your hand out, referencing the couch.

"Shall we?" You ask, grabbing your soda can and starting to walk.

You both walk over to the couch, and sit down. Again, silence.

"Steve. You sought me out, you obviously have things you want to talk to me about. You know me better than anyone alive. You should know I'm not just gonna give you information you haven't asked for. If I did, then all of my training has gone to waste." You say crossing your arms.

"Where have you been?" He crosses him arms in response.

"I told you. I've been around the world Stevey-boy." You smirk. "You're gonna have to give me better questions" your sass hiding all of the anxiety building in your stomach.

"Why did you run?"

"Aha. Better." You take a deep breath. "I couldn't stand being in the compound. Too empty now." You take a sip of your soda.

"Why didn't you tell anyone that you were leaving, or where you were going?"

"Didn't want to be followed. Basic spy procedure, you should know that. And even if you didn't Natasha definitely should have."