Chapter Text
Bucky didn’t scare easily. Years in the army and being on the very top of one of New York's most notorious organisations had burned that weakness out of him. But when he woke up to an empty house on the morning after your anniversary, the sheets of your bed cold and untouched, he felt fear creeping up on him.
His footsteps echoed in the silent house as he called your name. At first, he assumed you had gone for a walk. But when he pulled out his phone and dialled your number, his call went straight to voicemail. Something wasn’t right.
He checked the garage. Your car was gone. Then he checked the security feed. He saw you leaving late the previous night. You had your purse and keys with you. No suitcase, no overnight bag.
Still, he called Wanda and Nat to find out whether you had spent the night at one your friends’ houses. When they told him they hadn’t seen or heard from you either, he found it hard not to panic.
◌◌◌
For days, he and a handful of his most trusted men searched for you relentlessly. But your trail had run cold soon. You had turned off your phone when you were passing through Hartford. A couple of hours later, you had crossed the border to Canada. They found your car near the Montreal airport, but after that – no trace. It was like you’d vanished into thin air.
“You up for some tough love?” Sam asked Bucky one day when they were retracing your steps again, trying to find a new lead on your whereabouts. “This can’t have been a heat of the moment act. She must have planned her escape well in advance. Maybe you should just accept her decision and stop searching for her.”
Bucky opened his mouth but before he could utter a reply, Steve chimed in. “Sam, she left in the middle of the night. Without a word and without so much as a note! Does that sound to you like she made a rational choice? She could be in danger right now and we wouldn’t even know it.”
“She’s smart,” Sam shot back. “She’s got a law degree, after all. And she covered her tracks well. Do you know how much determination and guts it takes to pull something like that off? She’s not some damsel in distress.”
“She is in danger,” Steve insisted. “Every second she’s out there, she’s got a target on her back. You think Bucky’s enemies would refrain from hurting her if they found her before us?”
“She knew the risks, Steve. And she left anyway,” Sam replied before addressing Bucky again. “I’m sorry, man. But maybe you should think about why she felt like she had to run in the first place. She apparently thought taking off like this was the safest option.”
Bucky’s fists clenched at his sides. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh? She was safe with me, Sam.”
Sam put his hands up in defeat. “Just some food for thought.” He stood up and left Bucky’s office without being dismissed.
◌◌◌
Months passed without news from you and Bucky’s frustration only grew. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam’s words. What had he done to drive you away from him? Yes, you had had another row the night before. And yes, maybe he had been a little too rough with you. But overall, the night had made you both hopeful that blue skies were coming, hadn't it? His doubts and his anger were eating him up from the inside. He was always torn between self-hatred and rage aimed towards you. How could you leave him like this? How could you trust him so little that you had felt the need to run without saying goodbye? Would you come back once you realised that you couldn’t live without him?
Summer was in full swing when, during a business meeting with the Odinsons, Thor mentioned something in passing. “I saw a woman who looked just like your wife a couple of weeks ago. She was a redhead, though.”
Bucky had to force himself to keep a calm demeanour. He hadn’t told anyone but his closest circle that you were gone. “How strange,” Bucky replied in a nonchalant tone, “And where did you find that doppelgänger of hers?”
“In some one horse town in New Mexico. I was visiting Jane,” Thor said matter-of-factly.
“New Mexico, you say? I’ve got to ask her whether she has family there. How’s your girlfriend, by the way?”
After the meeting was finally over, Bucky didn’t waste a second. He called Steve. “We’ve got a lead on her.”
The two of them quickly set up a plan. Bucky sent some of his men – ones you didn’t know – to New Mexico to investigate. They needed confirmation first and foremost.
It didn’t take them long. His men found you in a small, unremarkable town. They observed you from afar, gathering every little detail of your new life. You had, in fact, dyed your hair red, taken on a new name, and were working at a small law firm. You commuted from your apartment to the office each day. Other than that your rarely went out, keeping mostly to yourself. It was far removed from the life you had shared with Bucky.
Your husband reacted to the reports with a mixture of anger and relief. You had chosen a life without him. If you could even call it life and not just existing. But you were safe. And maybe even more important – you had not run into another man's arms.
When he was satisfied with the amount of intel, he planned his next move.
A couple of days later, he, along with Steve, Sam and Clint, boarded his private jet to New Mexico. Steve had called the law firm and made an appointment for the next day under a fake name, requesting a meeting with you specifically. Should you suspect anything and make a run for it, Sam and Clint would follow you by car. Once the right occasion occurred, they would confront you and take you back to your apartment where Bucky would already be waiting for you.
“This is a bad idea, Buck,” Sam’s voice was firm. “Just call her and talk to her. She left because she needed space, not because she wanted to be hunted down like some fugitive.”
His words fell on deaf ears, though. “You needn’t have come with us if you think it’s a bad idea, Sam,” Bucky countered.
Sam sighed and shook his head. “You’re making a mistake, man.”
But Bucky had made up his mind. He was going to bring you back home.
◌◌◌
Your apartment building was a far cry from your house in New York. It was modest, almost run-down. The paint on the walls was chipped, the elevator was out of order, and the staircase creaked with every step.
Bucky nervously ran a hand through his hair. You had indeed seen straight through the alias Steve had given your secretary and were currently on your way to the Mexican border. Clint and Sam were on your heels, though.
“I can’t believe she left you to live in this dump,” Steve said, his tone laced with bitterness. Sometimes Bucky had the feeling that your disappearance had hurt his second-in-command almost as much as himself.
“I want you to be civil, Steve,” Bucky warned. “I don’t need you to push her away even further. We’re just going to talk to her and convince her to come back with us. Understood?”
Steve made a grunting noise before finally nodding his head.
Bucky fumbled with the lock for a moment before opening the door and entering your apartment.
Bucky moved through your tenement, opening the cabinet doors in the kitchen and finding them nearly empty. A few mismatched dishes, a solitary mug, two glasses. The drawers revealed only a half-empty tin of coffee beans and a packet of oats. He made his way to the fridge, bursting it open to find a half-full carton of soy milk, a jar of pickles, and a couple of take-out containers. Next, he walked over to the small living area. The furniture was minimal, too—a couch that looked like it came with the apartment and a second-hand coffee table. No personal touches to speak of. Yet, everything was spotless. You had clearly taken care of the place but the emptiness of it all gnawed at him. This wasn’t a home. This was a transit station you were ready to leave behind without a second thought, always ready to take off again.
Steve’s phone rang and tore Bucky from his thoughts. “They’ve got her. They’ll be here in an hour.”
Bucky spent the next sixty minutes pacing back and forth in your small corridor, asking Steve for updates every five seconds. The wait was driving him insane.
When the door finally opened and you stood there, Bucky felt like all air had left his body. You looked so different. The red hair threw him off for a moment, your clothes were unfamiliar and you were weaing glasses now. But your demeanour was unmistakeable.
Bucky gestured for the other men to leave. Steve muttered something inaudible under his breath. Then he slipped out and closed the door behind him.
“Bucky,” you whispered. You were coming towards him and pulled him into your arms. Bucky pressed you close and buried his face in your hair. You clung to him as if the months apart had taken a toll on you, too. Bucky loosened his grip slightly. He wanted to give you the chance to step back if you wanted to, but you only pressed your face against his chest.
“I missed you so much,” you mumbled into his shirt.
Bucky felt like his heart racing from happiness. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t expected you to be so welcoming towards him. He cupped your cheek gently, tilting your head up so he could look into your eyes. “I missed you, too, doll. Nearly drove me crazy.”
Something in his words seemed to melt whatever restraints you had still been holding up. You leaned into his touch for a few moments before rising onto your tiptoes and pressing your lips onto his.
The kiss was soft and tentative like you were testing the waters. But when Bucky kissed you back, you pulled him even closer and deepened the kiss. Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging lightly. Bucky moaned against your lips. He let his hands settle on your waist. Bucky wanted to show you that you were holding the reins. Everything that happened tonight would be on your terms.
When you finally pulled back for air, your cheeks were flushed.
“I love you. Don’t leave me again,” Bucky pleaded. His voice was overcome with emotion.
You kissed him again. This kiss felt even more urgent. You were pulling at his shirt, leading him to your bedroom.
“Tell me something, doll. Am I the fist man you’ve brought here?” You froze and he immediately regretted asking.
Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally answered. “Yes.”
“Good girl,” he breathed. He took your hand and pressed a kiss on the back of it. And in the blink of an eye, you were on him again, your hands roaming his body.
○○○
When Bucky finally collapsed next to you on the twin bed, you were both breathing hard. Bucky was still coming down from his high. He felt like he could burst from being so overjoyed. He looked over at you, wanting to bask in your afterglow. But instead he saw you rolled over on your side, facing away from him. Your shoulders were shaking. It almost broke his heart.
“Hey,” he whispered as he reached out to pull you against him. “There’s no need to cry, doll. I forgive you. We’re okay.”
Your tears were wet against his chest as he held you close. He was rubbing circles on your back and stroking your hair, trying to sooth you. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’ve got you, doll. We’re good.”
You didn’t reply but your grip on him tightened. He kept whispering sweet nothings in your ear and after a while, your breathing evened out.
Bucky stayed awake until he was sure that you had fallen asleep. For the first time in months, he felt whole again. You were here in his arms, back where you belonged.