a lion among wolves, bucky barnes (hiatus)

fifteen.

WASHINGTON D.C.
2014

THE next morning, June received her official letter of termination from the FBI.

Her unauthorized pursuit of the Winter Soldier had been the last straw. June had almost forgotten she had ever worked for the agency, and when her narrowed eyes darted over the bold black letters that informed her with little sensitivity that she was out of the job, June felt a terrible sadness fall over her. She had seen carrying around her badge as a small victory that proved she was capable of moving past Hydra and its abuses. It seemed, however, that Hydra was not eager to let her go.

With shaking hands, June ripped the piece of paper in half and stuffed it into the garbage.

"What was that?" a voice said from behind.

June spun around and saw Bucky standing there, his hair slightly untidy from sleep, eyes lingering curiously on the waste bin.

"Oh," she mumbled. "Um, it was a letter from my agency. They fired me."

"Oh," said Bucky, his brow furrowing. "Did it say why?"

"No," June lied, not wanting to hear Bucky blame himself for yet another thing. The look on his face, however, suggested he had already figured it out.

"It doesn't really matter," June insisted promptly, feeling like she was assuring a flighty child. "I'll just be a superhero full-time. I hear the pay is good."

For a moment, Bucky looked as if he might smile, but the light in his face flickered out almost as quickly as it had come and his eyes again became like ice. June shifted her weight from foot to foot, unsure what to say next, seeing as Bucky was uneager to carry on the conversation.

"Erm . . . did you sleep all right?" she asked at last, wincing at the awkwardness of the question.

Bucky half-shrugged. "Fine, I suppose. I mean, aside from—" he broke off, looking at June like she had attempted to steal something from him. "Nothing."

June blinked a few times. "O-Okay. Uh, listen . . . the Smithsonian opens in a half-hour. The earlier we get there, the less people we have to worry about, so we should leave now, I think—"

Her phone buzzed suddenly, and she paused. Though June did not enjoy answering phone calls very much, she slid it out of her pocket. When she realized who was calling, her panic only swelled.

"H-Hello?" June stammered.

"Hey," Steve answered, his voice significantly lighter than when they spoke last. "Just making sure you're okay. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right," June replied, guilt eating up her insides. "Things are normal . . . what about you?"

"Not bad," said Steve, and June could picture his dismissive shrug. "Sam and I have got a few leads on Bucky, hoping they don't fall through."

She swallowed hard. "Well that's . . . really good. Where, uh . . . where do you think he might be?"

"Our most reliable source says he was spotted near Kyiv, Ukraine," Steve said tiredly, "so we're gonna check it out, see what we find. Might be gone a few more weeks."

"Don't worry about it. I can manage fine."

"You're sure?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," June tried to push confidence into her voice, meanwhile hating herself for lying to him like this. "It's just me here, isn't it?"

"Well, if I'm being honest, that's what bothers me," Steve said.

June bit her lip, her chest heavy with shame. "Really, I'm fine. Just take your time."