a lion among wolves, bucky barnes (hiatus)

twenty-one.

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK
2014

JUNE was frozen where she stood, her heart hammering a frantic tune against her chest. The realization of just who had arrived came crashing down on her like ash and rubble, and it made the guilt begin to howl again.

"Sam?" she whispered, mostly to herself, but Tony's head snapped in her direction anyway.

"You know the guy?" he asked.

"He's a friend," June replied, though she privately doubted their relationship would be the same. Surely Steve had already told him everything.

Tony watched her, his face scrunched with suspicion. "All right then. Send him up, Jay."

"Yes, sir."

They lapsed into an awkward silence for many moments until Tony clasped his hands together, brought them to his mouth, and threw June a very pointed look. "Something's been bothering you this whole time."

"What?"

"Yup," Tony darted circles around her. "Didn't wanna embarrass you, so I decided not to say anything, but to be fair I don't really make a lot of permanent decisions: Happy told me you were crying on the way over. Wanna tell me why?"

"I wasn't crying," June muttered.

Tony shook his head. "For a spy, you're a real shitty liar—"

"I'm not a spy!"

"—because in fancy town cars, there are neat little things called rearview mirrors," Tony leaned forward on the last two words, emphasizing them with a twitch of his head. "Happy saw you."

Frustrated to the brink of anger, June let her face fall into the nastiest glare she could produce. It was a tactic she learned back in Moscow—if you were scared, upset, or confused, mask it by looking as pissed-off as possible.

Tony seemed to know the technique as well.

"Pepper makes that same face, Junebug," he sang. "Try again."

June blew a breath through her teeth. "Fine," she hissed. "Yes, something has been bothering me. But it's my own fault . . . so it doesn't matter."

"Hey, look," Tony raised his palms. "I don't know you that well. I'm in no position to judge. But if you're gonna tell me, you've got max thirty seconds."

A cold feeling of desperation crawled through June like a parasite. She wanted to tell Tony all of her problems, just as she had wanted to spill everything to Steve that day they had taken refuge at Sam's house. But her window was closing.

"Steve and I got into a fight," she announced, a bit louder than she had meant to. "I . . . I kept something hidden from him. And he found out."

"What did you keep hidden from him?"

"We're not there yet." June shook her head. As if on cue, the elevator dinged. The doors parted, and there stood Sam, a cardboard box held in his arms. His dark eyes met June's from across the room.

"Goddamnit, Ivanski," Sam sighed. He rushed forward, dropped the box, and wrapped her in a hug.

June gripped him as tightly as she could. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry. What are you doing here? It's almost a four-hour drive back to D.C.—"

"Hey, hey," Sam rubbed her arm. "Don't worry about that right now."

June pulled away. "No. Why did Steve . . . he hates me. He hates me."

To her shock, Sam chuckled. "No, June. No, he most definitely doesn't. Listen, uh . . . he'd been thinking about you a lot while we were gone. I just don't think he thought he would come back to you . . . like that." Sam glanced behind June and seemed to notice Tony for the first time. He lifted his chin in greeting. "Hey, Stark."