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He spends the weekend doing nothing. It's supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

"No mini mission this week?" Steve asks him from across the couch.

They're supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It's not like he doesn't like space. It's just that he's had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

"No. Someone else is taking care of it."

"Didn't you volunteer for this?"

"I pulled myself out of the case."

"I thought you were having fun."

Bucky's head slowly turns to look at him. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," Steve shrugged. "Looked like you were."

Well, he wasn't. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was.

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She's always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

"Hey, Marie," Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. "What's wrong?"

"There's a hostage situation downtown," she informs them.

"Okay..." Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

"They've asked for Mr. Barnes by name." She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest.

"What?"

"They said, and I quote-" she looks down at her notepad. "'Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I'm waiting for him and that he's not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.' End quote. They've also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull."

Steve and he look at each other.

"Well?" Steve prods.

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he'd ever seen. He wasn't even sure he'd seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist.

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free.

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing.

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack.

"Hey, Barnes." Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There's a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel.

Harmless (Bucky Barnes)Where stories live. Discover now