Shadows and Secrets Book Three (A MCU FanFic)

Chapter 1: Prisoner

trigger warning: dark themes that may be offensive or upsetting to some readers

Bucky's POV

    Bucky nudged Clint awake. "Nat's having an Emergency Meeting," he signed. "It's about HAEIW."

    Clint sat up, pushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes. "What? Why didn't anyone tell me?" he signed rapidly.

    "JARVIS flashed the lights," informed Bucky impatiently, "but you were asleep and couldn't see him."

    Clint reluctantly stood up, leaving his cocoon of blankets. "Is it important?"

    Bucky nodded, and gave him an abbreviated version of the meeting.

    Clint frowned, signing, "I missed a lot."

    "You should really find your hearing aids."

    He scowled at the advice. "How did you get in my room, anyway?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You forget I'm a world-class assassin."

"More of a prototype for Natasha."

"Haven't heard that one before," he had to sign with grudging admiration. "But what does that make you? Her second-rate sidekick?"

"Actually, I'm—"

The lights flickered off, and Clint's hand's dropped to his side. It was pitch black... What had happened?

"JARVIS?" Bucky whispered, the spoken words jarring after their silent conversation.

There was no response.

Bucky nudged Clint—he couldn't see or hear in the dark, so physical contact was the only means of communication—and tapped on his shoulder in morse code. "JARVIS isn't responding. Can you see anything?"

"No," he tapped back. "You?"

"A little, but we can't wait for your eyes to adjust; we have to find the others."

"Yes." Bucky knew Clint understood that the power outage was likely sabotage and that the team was likely in danger.

Oh god, he needed to find Marjorie. If she was hurt... Bucky couldn't even think of the possibility; it was too painful to picture her injured. But when he got his hands on whoever even attempted to lay hands on her, their death would be anything but quick and painless.

He pulled Clint by the wrist to his door, feeling for the doorknob.

He managed to get the door open and them in the hallway, when Clint seemed to realize something and tugged his arm out of Bucky's grip. Clint fumbled for his pockets.

Bucky was confused until Clint turned on his phone flashlight. He facepalmed. He should have thought of that; this was one of the rare times Bucky actually felt his age.

"I need my hands free," signed Bucky, Clint shining the light at him. "Can you hold the light?"

Clint nodded, recognizing that he was the better fighter. Not that Clint was bad. Bucky was just one of the best.

~

They were almost to the room Marjorie had been last when Bucky heard footsteps he didn't recognize.

"Turn the light off," he silently ordered Clint.

Clint obeyed, and Bucky pressed himself to the wall and slid out a long knife in his right hand. He could hear Clint drawing a knife too.