From Darkness

Forty-Two

Despite facing global destruction, it seemed easy for things to go back to normal. Or at least as normal as they could. We fell back into a pattern of working, though with more frequent intervals where we didn't leave the bed all day. Even though things felt normal again, something had definitely changed between us. Bucky had never really been outright affectionate before. At least not going so far as to plant kisses on my head whenever he passed by or giving me a gentle squeeze on my hip. He seemed to smile more, and I could see that he really believed he'd never be this happy.

He was, though. Or at least as happy as he could get. And it brought me joy just knowing I was capable of easing some of the pain inside him.

The only problem is that I knew it wouldn't last. We'd gotten comfortable in Romania, but Bucky didn't want it to become permanent. We eventually got a table and a small couch, but we didn't keep anything that couldn't be packed up in a backpack at a moment's notice. At least nothing of sentimental value. We kept all the important things in our backpacks just in case we had to run. He even talked about leaving our apartment and giving Vienna a shot. But I was just barely getting the hang of the language already.

And then, he cut back on language lessons and focused on teaching me how to blend in and defend myself. Whenever we did leave to explore the city, he stayed close by so that no one could get near me without his notice. He would whisper how to duck my head and avoid eye contact. How to appear small and stick to shadows. How to make it look like we weren't up to something.

The lessons were helpful once Elena started sending me out on errands. Sometimes just to buy food or cleaning supplies. But every so often, she'd send me out for lunch. I wasn't fluent, but I could get by enough to establish what I wanted, and I understood money enough to pay. She thought it was important for me to be shoved right into it instead of using a translator as a crutch. That way, I'd be forced to use my language skills.

She was probably right because I tended to go into a panic whenever I'd miss something or forget a word. I knew I was drawing attention to myself by not understanding, so I had to learn how to play it off like it was no big deal.

But Elena liked regularity. She rarely sent me to places I hadn't already been to. So after a while, the people in the market knew who I was and who I was there for. Every time I stopped at the bakery for bread, they usually knew what I wanted, and little was said in the process. I never wandered too far from the building. Every so often, I'd find Bucky working in the market, moving crates, and setting up stands for the sellers who were too old or couldn't do it themselves. He always noticed me first and would send me a smile if he couldn't pull me behind a stall to cover my face and neck with kisses.

I was happy. Despite everything we'd lost and suffered. I was happier than I ever thought I'd be. So it made sense that it wasn't meant to last. It would be stupid to pretend that it would.

I walked into Elena's favorite bakery and got in line to order her bread. The whole shop smelled like baking bread and sweets. The weather was warm, so I wasn't even wearing a sweater. I felt exposed without it, but Bucky never let me go anywhere without at least one knife for every arm (and an extra) hidden beneath my shirt.

I shared a few words with the baker, exchanged the money for Elena's order, and then turned to step back out onto the street.

He was sitting by the window, leaning casually against the wall, blue eyes staring directly into mine.

There was a split second where I thought he might not recognize me. Maybe I could get out without him noticing. But he was looking at me with a smirk. He knew exactly who I was, and I'd stood there too long to pretend I didn't know him either.

"Agent Hayes," he said when I stepped closer. I made sure to stay within reach of the door, so I could bolt, but I knew he'd block me if I tried to run too soon.

"Barton," I replied with a nod.

"Fancy meeting you here." I gulped and glanced at the street. There was a group of people walking by, but once they were gone, there would be a big enough gap for me to escape without knocking into anyone.

"Right," I said, glancing back at him. "Girl's gotta eat." I took a step closer to the door, and he didn't miss it. He motioned toward it with his hand.

"You know if you run, I'll just chase you, right?" I watched the gap get swallowed up by more pedestrians.

"Of course. But I bet I know this city better than you."

"I don't doubt it. But I bet I see better than you." He had me there. They didn't call him Hawkeye for nothing.

"What do you want?"

"Just a few words." I shook my head and swallowed against the lump in my throat.

"Look, I know they've been looking for me. I can't go back. It's not that I don't want to. It's that it'll put everyone in danger. It's better if they don't know where I am." His eyebrows rose.

"See, when you say things like that, it only makes me have more questions." He stood up and moved to the door, blocking it before I could make an escape. He held it open and motioned outside.

"C'mon. Let's find someplace quiet." I sighed and reluctantly passed him. I considered running, even though I was certain he'd find me, and I couldn't lead him back to the apartment. I couldn't imagine how Bucky would react. He'd be ready for us to bolt in a nanosecond. Barton gripped my elbow and guided me forward. "There's a coffee shop down the street."

"I know."

"Of course you do. Is it any good?"

"Well, it's no Starbucks." He sighed dramatically and pulled his sunglasses down to cover his eyes. Even though he had such a recognizable face, it definitely helped him blend in.

"What I wouldn't give for a Frappuccino right about now," he said.

"You and me both."

We stayed quiet until we reached the coffee shop. My heart was pounding, and my mind was whirring with a thousand different possibilities. What if Steve and Tony knew I was there? What if they were out looking for Bucky, and this was just a distraction? Just to keep me away from the market while they tore through it? He said they wouldn't take him alive. I'd have to trust that Steve would protect him. But not everyone else would.

Was this going to be the end of everything we'd built? What if they took us back to New York, and I hurt everyone? What if Bucky got hurt or killed, or I killed Barton in my fear?

He ordered us two cups, and then we sat down at a table in the back. We both had an equal view of the door and window, but somehow I still felt exposed. As if it was all over and Tony would come marching through that door any second. My heart was pounding in my ears. My chest felt tight and warm. He's not a threat. He's not going to hurt us, I repeated. As if it could somehow stop the thing inside me from lashing out in my defense. Please don't kill him? I clutched the bag with Elena's groceries and didn't set it down until he nodded toward it.

"People notice when you look uncomfortable," he said.

"I am uncomfortable," I remarked. But I set it down anyway.

A waiter brought us our cups of coffee, and we stayed silent until he disappeared again. Then Barton leaned on his elbows and pushed his sunglasses back up on his head.

"What the hell are you doing here, Hayes?"

"Hiding."

"From who?"

"Hydra. Stark. Rogers. Take your pick."

"Why?" I sighed and leaned forward, trying to keep my voice low and even. There was a slim chance no one knew I was there. And if that were true, there was a possibility I could get him to reason with me. Barton had a tendency to bend the rules when he thought it was justified. I had to play him carefully.

"Do they know I'm here?" I asked. He studied me for a moment before taking a sip of his coffee. Then he grimaced.

"God, I'd kill for Starbucks." He set the mug back down and looked like he had no intention of ever taking another sip. "To be honest, I didn't even know you were here."

"Then how'd you find me?"

"Actually wasn't even looking for you. I was investigating an incident. I'm here alone." Then I sighed in relief. His eyebrows rose. "Spotted you by accident in the market. Thought I was seeing things. You know they've been looking for you."

"I know."

"So what the hell happened?"

"I was in Sokovia for a time. Escaped when they were transferring me. Before the Ultron thing."

"Belarus?"

"You know?"

"Of course I do. Soon as Stark got the call that your uh—commanding officer—was there, he headed right out."

"My commanding officer, you mean my father." He nodded slowly.

"Wasn't sure if you knew that." I sipped my coffee.

"Of course I knew. I was in Belarus for a time too. When he died, we agreed to get him to Stark so my family could bury him. I left."

"Made your way here."

"I was in Vienna first," I lied.

"You're getting really good at living on the run, you know?"

"It's one of my many hidden talents." Barton and I had never met before now, but I knew of him when I worked with SHIELD, and since he worked with Steve and Tony, it made sense that he knew me too.

"So why have you been on the run?" he asked, getting to the point. I decided to be honest. If he knew what kind of danger I posed, he might be more willing to let me go. But then again, it might completely backfire. I had to trust my instincts. And right now, they were telling me to trust him.

"Hydra did something to me. I don't know how to control it yet. But it was meant to destroy you. I thought it would be best to keep my distance."

"Me?"

"The Avengers. All of you." He nodded again.

"And you don't think Stark can help?"

"It's hard to say. But they wanted me to end up in New York. If I go where they want me, who knows what could happen?"

"You know your sister's gotten pretty...." He motioned to his stomach and puffed up his cheeks. I glared.

"I figured," I said.

"Just making sure."

"What are you here for?"

"There's been an increase in enhanced individuals in the past few years. Now that we've gotten Hydra taken care of, we've been looking into incidents that might be a bit out of the ordinary. Trying to determine if they're potential threats we should keep tabs on or isolated incidents."

"What happened?"

"A guy had a cerebral aneurysm on a bus." He studied me again, obviously noticing the momentary flash of alarm.

"People have aneurysms all the time," I pointed out, sipping my coffee.

"Right. The newspapers called it an aneurysm. The eyewitness accounts are where it gets weird. All accounts are consistent. All witnesses claim the man was accosted right before seizing. Said the blood that came out of his nose and eyes was black. Every single one of them."

"Odd."

"Mm." I said nothing. I looked out the window and sipped my coffee. "You hear about that?"

"The aneurysm, yes."

"Don't know anything about that, do you?" I took a deep breath and let it go.

"I didn't mean to kill him," I admitted. His eyebrows rose.

"It was you?"

"It was an accident. But that's what we're dealing with, yes. That's what will happen if you take me back to New York. Everyone in that building. Including Stark and you and Romanoff and all your friends. All of them. Hydra was even convinced it could take down the green one." He picked at a napkin.

"I can see how that would keep you on the run." I set my mug back down.

"I know I'm dangerous. And I know it's your job to take me back to protect the people in this city. I've only slipped up once. And in my defense, the guy was trying to feel me up. I didn't do it on purpose, but it's activated by threat. Please—please don't make me go back to New York. Please don't tell them I'm here. I can't do that to them. I can't do it to Clara. Please—just trust me."

"I don't," he decided very quickly. "But I won't say anything."

"You won't?"

"I read the reports on the guy. You turned his brain to liquid. If what you're saying is true and that they intended to use that on us, it's probably best for you to stay hidden. You've only slipped once. You're doing a pretty good job of keeping yourself hidden. Why would I take you back?"

"Because Steve and Tony want me back, and they wouldn't let me stay hidden even if it meant putting everyone in danger." He shrugged.

"I'm not Steve and Tony."

"I gathered that."

"Look," he said, finally looking somewhat serious. "I'll go back to New York, and I'll tell them that it was just an aneurysm. A dead lead. Nothing here. No reason to come back. But only on one condition." I winced but nodded for him to carry on. "It doesn't happen again. Because if I begin to suspect you're a threat to these people, I'll come after you. And you won't be able to hide from me. You understand?"

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Good." He leaned back in his chair. "This coffee is awful." I shrugged.

"Strong though. That's all I care about." He crossed his arms over his chest and watched me drain my cup. My heart was starting to slow again. The tension was lifting. I trusted Barton to keep his word. So long as I kept mine. I just wasn't sure how long I could do that.

"You have any questions for me?" he asked.

"Where'd they bury him?"

"Ohio. Family plot. I didn't go. They kept it small and private."

"How's Clara?"

"Miserable and fat."

"Besides that." He leaned on the table again and slid his cup forward, so it wasn't directly under his nose.

"She misses you. Was a wreck for a while. Still is, but I think she's starting to accept it now that she knows Hydra doesn't have you. After the Ultron thing—we found nothing."

"She's coming to grips with the fact that I'm not coming back."

"No, I don't think that's it. She's not giving up hope. But she's trying to live her life. They've got a kid coming. She's already under enough stress. She and Stark hardly communicate. Every time I see her, Friday has to remind her that her blood pressure is too high."

"Friday?"

"Right, you don't know. Tony's AI. No more Jarvis."

"What happened to him?"

"Got turned into a purple dude." He noticed the puzzled look on my face and smiled. I decided to move on.

"How's the rest of my family? Do you know?" He chewed on his lip and shook his head.

"Haven't heard anything to suggest they're not still kicking. But I'm not as tight with them. Can't say how they're dealing."

"That's good, I guess. How're Steve and Sam?"

"Looking for you and your boyfriend."

"My boyfriend?"

"Or is it your husband now?" He motioned toward my hand, where Beata's ring had made a comfortable home on my finger once my body weight went back to normal. I shook my head.

"Just keeps people from bothering me. For the most part. It was my mother's." I looked down at my mug and wished I hadn't drunk it all.

"I meant Barnes," he said.

"Any luck on that front?" I asked.

"Nothing but cold trails." He was lying. He said he saw me by accident at the market, where I'd run into Bucky while he was working. He'd pulled me to his chest and covered my lips with kisses and promises of all the things he'd do to me at home. Barton probably saw it.

"That's unfortunate." He studied me for a moment longer as if waiting for me to come right out with it. I didn't. So he looked at his watch.

"Well, since this trail is cold, I guess I better get back. I've been thinking about retiring. Maybe I'll buy a farm." He stood up, and I did the same.

"What happened to the kid?" I asked.

"What kid?"

"Graham." He smiled.

"Works for your sister. Got a mouth on him. Stark thinks he's annoying, but I kinda like him." I smiled with relief.

"I'm really glad to hear that. I was worried about him."

"Nothing to worry about. Stark covered all his medical bills. Now he's helping him see about a replacement for that knee. Kid's got enough money to keep his own place."

"Oh, thank God."

"Misses you too, you know?"

"I know. I wish I could tell him I'm okay, but I can't risk it."

"I don't blame you." We headed toward the door, and I had another question.

"The kid that died—in Sokovia. I knew him. And his sister." He nodded solemnly.

"They weren't bad kids. Got mixed up in some bad things. He died a hero."

"She got in my head."

"Well, you're not alone. And yeah, she told us. Regrets it. Feels awful about it."

"I'm sorry to hear about her brother. He never did anything to me. In fact, I think he was more vocal about his disapproval of the way they treated me."

"I didn't know him well, but I believe it. And Wanda—she means well. They just didn't have their heads in the right place."

"She tortured me. Repeatedly." He sighed and pinched his lips in a thin straight line.

"Well, if you ever find yourself back in New York, I'm sure she'll be ready to make it up to you."

"Something to look forward to, I guess," I replied sarcastically. He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder.

"You need to take care of yourself, Hayes. You're not looking so good these days," he told me. "Stark can find a way. He always does. If you need to come back, we can make sure you don't hurt anyone. I can help." I shook my head.

"I think I'm happy here. Which is strange, you know? I never thought I'd be happy again."

"I know you are. I saw you with him."

"You won't say anything?"

"Look—I know Barnes has a past but—we all do. I didn't find anything here. Just a dead lead." Then he headed outside. By the time I reached the sidewalk, he'd already disappeared around a corner.

________________

"I'd far rather be happy than right any day." ~ Douglas Adams

I have a soft spot for Clint because as far as the comics go, he's one of my all-time #1 fave Avengers. Jeremy Renner is great but I feel like the MCU didn't really do him justice. Also, he had a much larger role in the first version of Hell Bound (that got scrapped) and I always thought that was a tragedy. So I still wanted to include him in some small way and I felt like he would 100% be the most likely Avenger (at this point in time) to allow Jo and Bucky some peace.