Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Bucky Barnes wasn't a selfish man. Sure, he may have been what many considered a ladies' man in his twenties before everything happened, but that didn't make him selfish. Besides, he wasn't that man anymore. He had spent more than half his life as someone else, but even when he got his mind and body back, he was always helping others over himself.

The whole reason he stayed in Wakanda was that he didn't want to hurt anyone else. It was only a bonus that they had the technology to help heal his mind. He was entirely grateful to them. But then the world, or really, the universe this time, came knocking and he was in the fight again.

He lost five years. Even if it wouldn't have been much of a life while half the world disappeared, he wished he hadn't turned to dust. It was the first selfish thought he'd had since he could remember: wishing that he'd been part of the grief-stricken world so he could have had more years with Steve.

Especially since Bucky had known what Steve was going to do when he took back the stones because of the look in his eyes. The one from when they were kids. Who was Bucky to take away from Steve's happiness, even if it took away from his own?

Steve had been put in the same predicament as him. A man out of his time. Both were frozen, though Bucky was in and out of it throughout several decades. Both were torn away from their lives and thrown into a different time with different people. It only made sense that Steve would want to go back to live the life he had missed. Bucky didn't have that choice. He didn’t have someone to go back to during that time.

And now, four years after the world had healed and the people were adjusting to living again, Bucky felt calm. Dare he even say normal. He'd always been thrown into fights, whether they found him or he found them. Sam had truly helped him get back on his feet. Made him realize he didn't need Steve's words or opinions of him to be who he was. Sam pushed him. Sam got on his nerves. But Sam also cared for him. And so did the young Air Force First Lieutenant who now followed Sam around like a puppy.

Joaquin Torres. He was a good kid. Not really a kid, but to Bucky—who was one hundred and ten years old—he was. Eager was the word that best described him. He always did what Sam asked and more. The kid had impressive computer skills, getting into places that he shouldn't have been able to. Bucky might've liked him more if he didn't talk so much. Torres always had something to say. Quick wit. Sassy jabs. But underneath that, Bucky knew he had a good heart.

Both Sam and Bucky had settled in DC. Sam had an office now, the perks of being Captain America. Sam had asked him here for something, but Bucky was too busy staring out the window. An army green Jeep pulled up to the side of the road in front of the building. Bucky caught a glance of a woman behind the wheel as Torres jumped out of the passenger's side.

He’d never had anyone drive him to work before. Did he have a girlfriend? A girlfriend who now dropped him off at work?

"Man, you listening to me or you gonna stare out the window all morning?"

Bucky turned, finding Sam leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. He had the slightest of smiles on his face.

"How long were you talking?"

Sam's grin widened. "Long enough that you should've responded to at least one of the things I asked you. What's out the window?"

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Torres got dropped off by a woman."

Sam laughed. "That's what has you spacing out? A woman? You need to go on more dates, Buck. Maybe just go out once in a while to see women out in the wild."

He grumbled some not-so-nice words just as Torres strode through the door.

"Sorry, Sam." He shrugged his bag off his shoulder and plopped down into the smaller desk space, which was effectively his most of the time. "I forgot my car was going to the shop this morning until my sister was outside honking at me to get my ass moving."

Bucky's eyes widened. "Sister?"

Sam's eyes pinged between him and Torres. "It's all good, man. I'm gonna have to repeat everything because good ol' Bucky here wasn't listening to me anyway."

"Doing that whole staring thing again?"

"Uh-huh. At your sister."

"No," Bucky corrected quickly. "I just happened to be looking out the window when the Jeep pulled up. Thought maybe you got a girlfriend or something."

Torres smiled. "Nope. No girlfriend. My sister and my mom are the only women in my life." 

Sam leaned forward and waggled his eyebrows. "Your sister single?"

Bucky cut him a glare.

"As far as I know, yes. She’s never been much for the male species because they can’t handle authoritative women. Why?" Joaquin logged into his computer. "Are you inquiring after her eligibility, Sam?"

"Not me, brother." Sam looked over Joaquin's shoulder at Bucky. "Not me."

Joaquin turned to look at Bucky, brow raised. "You—oh. The staring, right. Wait, you could see her from here?" He quickly stood to look out the window where Bucky was standing.

"Let's hop off this train before it derails," Bucky said, turning Torres around and guiding him back to his chair. "You were saying, Sam?"

Sam pursed his lips. "Fine, fine. But your sister is coming to the dinner tonight, right?"

Joaquin nodded, throwing a look over his shoulder at Bucky. "Yes, she is. I know you're only like forty years old physically, but shouldn't you be going after women of my mother's age? Maybe even my abuela?"

Bucky slapped him across the chest with a satisfying thwap.

It was a little after five in the evening when Sam's doorbell rang. Bucky was in the living room, talking with Sarah, Sam's sister, while her kids, AJ and Cass, were hanging off his metal arm. Ever since he did this the first time, it was pretty much a requirement; the boys would be nothing but mischief until he let them. Sarah had chided him for it, saying it was only making it worse, but Bucky didn't mind. They were good kids.

"Alright, boys. Let's get off Bucky's arm now, okay? We've got more guests." AJ grumbled, but they both dropped to the ground and ran into the kitchen. Sarah watched them go before turning back. "I hear Joaquin's bringing his sister. I didn't even know he had any siblings."

"I don't think he told anybody," Bucky said, fidgeting with the ring on his right middle finger. "Besides Sam, of course."

He'd wished Sam had never gotten him the ring, but it was a better habit than pulling at all of the threads of his clothing. Jackets, shirts, jeans. Nothing was safe before he got this ring.

Sarah looked down at his hand, and he stopped. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

"'Cause if something's on your mind, you can talk to me."

"Hey!" Sam called out. "You two get in here!"

Sarah spared one last look and started for the kitchen. Bucky followed.

He stopped hard, spinning the ring on his finger again.

Next to Torres was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Dark hair fell below her shoulders in ringlets, framing a tanned and olive-toned face. Full lips, sharp cheekbones, prominent nose bridge, freckles spattered along her cheeks and nose.

Fuck.

Her eyes were a much lighter shade of brown than Torres's, more caramel than milk chocolate. But the face shape, and the look they were both giving Bucky now…

Definitely related.

His heart sped up, and he swallowed around a lump in his throat.

What was wrong with him?

He spun his ring once more before forcing his hand into a fist.

"This is my sister, Sarah." Sam extended a hand to her.

She stepped forward and gave her hand to Joaquin's sister. "It's nice to meet you…"

"Viviana." Fuck. Her voice had to be sweet and honey-toned. It was deeper than most women. Rich, smooth. Fuck. "But please, call me Viv."

"Nice to meet you, Viv. I'm sure you already met my boys."

She laughed. "Yes, quite the rambunctious two."

Sarah stepped back and stood by her brother, who was now looking at Bucky standing awkwardly away from everyone.

"Viv, this is Bucky."

Viviana turned her caramel eyes to him. "Bucky Barnes. 107th Infantry. Howling Commando."

Bucky did a double-take. Of course, most people knew who he was. He was in a museum exhibit as Steve Rogers' best friend since childhood—the only man to give his life for the Commandos. But after everything, they saw the Winter Soldier. They saw Captain America's sidekick. This woman saw him.

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"He's not much of a talker," Joaquin said to his sister, stepping in to save him. "Like I told you." He turned to face Bucky. "She's not a stalker, I swear. She's in the Army. She studied everything about the Second World War. She was weirdly obsessed."

"Not obsessed." Viviana stepped forward and offered her hand. "First Sergeant. Joaquin had to go off and be different by going into the Air Force."

Bucky took her hand, hoping his wasn't as sweaty as he thought.

"You're the one who said my head was always in the clouds. Maybe I just took that comment to heart."

"Only you would take a backhand and turn it into inspiration." She pulled her hand from Bucky's, eyes locked with his. It was unnerving. He suddenly felt very warm, and his skin tingled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sergeant."

"Just Bucky," he finally said.

Her lips tilted. "Okay, Just Bucky."

Bucky felt like someone was squeezing his lungs. Taking all his oxygen. A fog clouded his mind. His sanity.

Someone cleared their throat.

"My sister's on leave, and our mother asked her to come stay with me."

"Forced. Against my will."

"You got shot and then jumped on a grenade. Were you forced to do that?" Joaquin sighed. "The grenade part, at least."

Bucky's eyes widened. He swept her figure, but she didn't look in the least bit injured unless she hid it well, like he always did.

Viviana spun around on her brother. "And what would you have done if there was enemy fire on your base? Against men and women who'd never seen combat until that point?"

"I would've—"

"Don't finish that, Joaquin," Sam cut in. "You went after a missile after I told you to fall back. Then it exploded, and you fell into the Indian Ocean."

Viviana smiled. She was actually beaming at the thought of someone putting her brother in his place. It was a look Bucky wouldn't mind seeing for the rest of his life.

Where the hell did that thought come from?

"I may have just met you, but you two are exactly alike." Sam clapped a hand on Joaquin's shoulder. "The Torres siblings. Self-sacrificing until the very end."

Said siblings burst out laughing. 

Bucky had a weird feeling in his chest right then. He had it that entire night. His heart kicked against his ribs when her caramel eyes found him several times during dinner. When she smiled several times with a smile that was even more obnoxious than Joaquin’s. And that feeling still hadn’t gone away in the two years Viviana Torres existed in his life.

Bucky had been lying in his bed since eleven PM, and his bedside alarm clock—yes, he still had one of those—read 2:14 AM. He'd settled on his back, shirt thrown haphazardly on the floor about an hour ago. It was just one of those nights where he was going to stare at the ceiling until it was dawn. He should really learn to fall asleep with his eyes open.

A quiet thump outside his door made it certain he was not sleeping. 

With a quiet groan, he threw the comforter off and sat on the edge of the bed. He slipped on a pair of cotton pants and padded into the living room. Nothing was amiss. He peered out of the balcony and didn’t see any dead or dying animals lying there. 

The doorknob rattled, followed by another loud thud. 

Was someone trying to break into his place? Into an apartment?

Cautiously, he approached the door. He should’ve grabbed a weapon just in case, but he had the arm. His reflexes were fast.

He was wrong. His reflexes were not fast enough when he opened the door, and Viviana Torres fell into him.

Bucky dropped to his knees to catch her, and his hands were suddenly sticky when he grabbed her midsection.

“Bucky,” she choked out. 

His heart nearly stopped. “Viv, are you okay?”

His hand framed her face, tilting her head back so he could look at her. 

“I—” She coughed, turning her face into her arms. When she looked back at him, there was blood on her bottom lip. “Don’t tell Joaquin. Please.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she went limp in his arms. 

Bucky was normally a calm man. Patient. Rational. Those were not words to describe him now. 

“Viv?” He shook her gently. “Viv, answer me.”

She didn’t. He knew she wouldn’t. 

“Fuck. What the fuck!”

Bucky stood, gathering her in his arms. He opened the door by pushing the handle down with his elbow and gently placed her on his bed. He didn’t care if his sheets became bloody. 

He ran into the bathroom and dug through all the supplies he had underneath his sink. Gauze, isopropyl alcohol, tape, bandages, wraps. He snatched a few hand towels on his way out, too. 

His bed had become a war zone. Half of it was occupied by an unconscious Viviana. The other half with everything he thought he might need to address her injuries. When he flicked the light on, he sucked in a sharp breath. 

In the thirty seconds she’d been conscious, he hadn’t gotten a good look at her in the dark. Now he did. 

There was dried blood everywhere he could see skin besides her face. Her pale face. It started just beneath her chin, ran down her neck and chest, and probably further, but he couldn’t see because of her shirt. Her knuckles were bruised and covered in blood.

She’d been in a fight of some sort. Fought back. 

He dug through his nightstand drawer until he found his switchblade. “Forgive me,” he muttered to no one in particular as he cut away her shirt. 

By the time he peeled the fabric from her skin, Bucky’s hands were shaking. The blood continued down her chest to just above her hip bone. Alongside the blood was definitely a knife wound, not terribly deep, but it would’ve been very painful. 

Was someone torturing her?

He ran back into the bathroom and filled a random bucket he’d found in his kitchen with warm water. He got to work cleaning the blood from her torso, only to find her skin mottled with bruises.

Viviana had been beaten and cut up, and showed up on Bucky’s doorstep. Not her brother’s. Not even Sam’s. His. 

Which meant she trusted him more than he had any right to be trusted by someone like her. Or it meant she was in danger. She didn’t want her brother involved. It was the classic protective older-sibling move. Bucky would’ve done the same thing for his younger sisters at one point in time. 

Once he finally got most of the blood from Viviana’s torso off, he laid a towel over her breasts and cut the straps of her bra so he could remove it without jostling her. 

He gently swabbed around the knife wound with the isopropyl alcohol before grabbing the gauze and taping it down. Then came the more complicated part. The jagged line running from her neck to her waistline. 

It kept oozing, and Bucky wondered whether it would need stitches. He dug around his apartment for a while before he could find his sewing kit. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. 

It took him longer than he wanted to admit to stitch the full wound. Once that was done, he’d cut off her pants and checked for any other wounds, but they seemed limited to her upper half. As gingerly as possible, he got Viviana into one of his bigger tees, so it covered everything. 

She hadn’t stirred once.  He checked her pulse every fifteen minutes and then sat back against his bedroom door, staring at her. It was now after six AM. 

Bucky didn’t know what to do. Did he text Sam? Did he text Joaquin? 

He stood and placed two fingers on her pulse again. Still there. It wasn’t weaker, so at least that was good. He pulled the shirt up to see how the gauze was faring, and it wasn’t completely soaked through. Another small win.

Of all the times in his head he’d imagined Viv in his shirt, half naked in his bed, this was not one of the scenarios.

He needed a strong drink, but he wasn’t going to get one. That would be stupid of him. He just needed water. Maybe make breakfast while he decided what to do. 

Bucky must’ve been lost in his head, because he heard a soft groan. He blinked, looking through the doorway to the living room. Maybe Viviana had woken up, and he could finally ask her what the hell happened. Before he could even move from his spot at the kitchen island, she appeared, leaning heavily against the wall. Supporting her weight.

He was up and to her instantly. “Viv, what the hell? Why the fuck are you walking?”

“I’m—”

“You better not say you’re fine.”

She glared at him with a surprising amount of heat and anger for someone who’d been cut and beaten. “I’ve been shot at and blown up. This is nothing.”

“That doesn't take away from this. Because this is not nothing. And you’re gonna lay your ass back down and tell me who did this to you,” Bucky demanded. 

“Just a skirmish,” Viviana replied, but then she winced as she sucked in a breath. 

Bucky hummed. “A skirmish? Is that it?”

His blood was boiling.

“Yes.”

“Then why did you come to my door? In the middle of the night, not to mention.”

She swallowed. “A patch job.”

“Is that what I’m good for? A patch job?” He hated the tone of his voice but he needed answers.

He wasn't mad at her, per se. But he would be, actually, if she kept being stubborn. Bucky leaned down to pick her up. 

She tried to take a step back. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re not going to walk back to my room and lie the fuck down, you’re forcing my hands.”

“Don’t.”

Bucky stopped. Stood back up to his full height. “Okay, well then it looks like I’m gonna have to call your brother and—”

“No! Don’t just…” Viviana huffed, turning around and starting toward Bucky’s room. But he wasn’t stupid. He could see how painful each step was. He came up behind her and, as gently as possible, lifted her into his arms. “Bucky—”

“Shut up. You’re wincing with every step. You’re hurt.”

For maybe the first time ever, she didn’t talk back to him.

Once he got to his bedroom, he set her down and helped her swing her legs onto the bed. He sat down beside her feet and rested his hand on her ankle before he could think better of it. She didn’t push him away or swear at him, so he left it there. 

Viviana adjusted herself until she was comfortably leaning against his headboard, his pillows stashed behind her back. Bucky waited for her to start explaining, but she didn’t. 

“Start talking, Viv.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Bucky’s thumb swiped back and forth across her ankle. “If there was nothing to talk about, you wouldn’t be here.”

Viviana crossed her arms over her chest, then winced, letting them drop back to her sides. “I got into some trouble. That’s it.”

“What kind of trouble?” 

Her eyes flicked over him. He was still shirtless, wearing nothing but the pants he’d pulled on when he’d investigated the noise. Hell, he probably still had her blood on him because he’d only washed his hands after he was done. 

All she said was, “It’s been dealt with.”

Bucky made a choked sound. “You’ve been MIA for two months. You told Joaquin you had to go off the grid for work. And then you show up here beaten half to death.” He clasped her ankle in his hand, squeezing lightly. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you right now.”

“What do you want to happen, Bucky?” she asked. “If I tell you anything, you’re gonna go off and be the good guy and get into a world you shouldn’t be a part of.”

His brow furrowed. “And you think you belong there?”

“It’s only gonna hurt people.” She shifted, looking around the room before her caramel eyes landed on him. They were dull, drained. “I shouldn’t have even come here. It was risky. I wasn’t… right in the mind.”

His hand traveled up her calf, kneading the muscle there. Her leg tensed, and she sucked in a breath, but she didn’t tell him to stop. “You can always come to me, Viviana. Always. But if you don’t tell me what happened, or who did this to you, I’m going to go hunt the bastards anyway. I’m sure your brother would be right behind me.”

Her eyes widened. “No! I don’t want Joaquin anywhere near this.”

“Then why don’t you start by telling me what ‘this’ is?”

Viviana was silent for a moment, but then finally nodded toward his hand. “Can you stop that? It’s distracting.”

Bucky pulled his hand off her leg. “Better?”

“And maybe put a shirt on.”

“Are you gonna tell me to put on socks and shoes, too?”

“Bucky, please.”

He was helpless when it came to Viviana Torres. Helpless and pathetic, and she didn’t know any of it. He ignored the shirt on the floor and went into his dresser to grab a clean shirt. It was a plain navy blue tee. A staple in his wardrobe.

He settled back onto the foot of the bed. “Better?” She nodded, avoiding his eyes. “Okay, now start talking.”

Viviana took a deep and seemingly painful breath. “I’ve been following a trafficking ring based out of an elite club.”

“Jesus, Viv—”

“Are you going to let me talk?”

Bucky forced his lips together. 

“I was off the grid because I started working there. I needed to get inside the building to gather evidence and witness everything firsthand.” She ran a hand through her tangled curls. “A girl disappears almost every week. Young. Most of them are freshly eighteen, looking for a way to make good money. There’s only one other woman who’s over thirty, and she’s been working there the longest.”

Bucky was instantly disgusted and outraged, but fought to keep his mouth shut until Viviana finished talking. She hadn’t gotten to the part where she’d gotten injured. 

“I can’t tell if she’s a part of it, but she has to at least think it’s strange that there’s a new girl hired every goddamn week. She acts like a mother to the rest of the girls, helping them with the lay of the land and the customers.”

“Okay. So they caught you snooping and beat you?”

She swallowed harshly. “Not exactly.”

Bucky stood and started pacing at the foot of his bed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “How did it happen?”

“There are certain clients that like to get… physical.”

His ears started ringing. His stomach threatened to bring up what breakfast he had been able to eat this morning. “Are you saying that this club has men who get off on beating women, and then go on to fuck them?”

He finally looked back at Viviana, finding her eyes welling with unshed tears. “Yes.”

“And—”

“No. They didn’t touch me. Not like that. I didn’t let them get that far.”

Bucky sighed in relief. Even though she was still injured, at least she wasn’t raped on top of everything. 

“I wasn’t even the one… I stepped in for one of the girls. I couldn’t watch it happen.” Her lip quivered, and she bit it to stop it.

Bucky stopped pacing. “Hey.” He walked over to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed again. “Hey, Viv. You’re okay. You’re here. You’re safe now.”

Before he knew what he was doing, his palm was against her cheek. He wiped away a tear that fell. 

“She was so young. I couldn’t let it continue, so I burst in there and pulled her out.” Viviana’s hand covered his own on her face. “The clients were mad, said I took away their fun, and demanded I take their place.”

Viviana blinked, and another tear fell onto the pad of his thumb. “I punched one of the men before the other ran to my boss. This.” She gestured to herself. “Is from him. Not from the clients.”

Bucky was feeling murderous the more Viviana kept talking. He was fighting the urge to go find this club’s owner and wring his fucking neck. “How long ago did this happen? Did you come to me right after? Did he let you go, or did you run?”

“I woke up in his office. The lights were off. I found my clothes and ended up here. I don’t exactly remember getting here.”

The red haze in his vision only got worse. Bucky stood from the bed and walked to his dresser, ready to pull on his jeans and go hunting. 

“What are you doing?”

Bucky didn’t answer her. He was so pissed off. He should be texting Joaquin, or maybe Sam. He couldn’t leave Viviana here alone. She wouldn’t stay put; he knew her too well.

“Bucky. You can’t leave.”

“The hell I can’t,” he snapped, not caring that he was undressing in front of her. “I’m not gonna sit here while that piece of shit that beat you is out there. He cut you. Scarred you on purpose.”

“Please, don’t leave. He doesn’t know who I am. What I do. I never gave myself up, just interfered.”

Bucky straightened, buttoning his jeans. “You can’t tell me you mean to go back there?”

Viviana was silent.

“Viv?”

“I can’t let them keep taking girls,” she whispered. 

“Then let me loop in Sam. We can figure out a plan to bust them and get everyone out. Start tracking the girls they sold. I’m not letting you walk back in that place.”

Viviana’s face hardened. “You don’t get to make that choice for me. Why do you care?”

“Why do I care?” Bucky laughed. “Because I—”

He stopped. Swallowed the words down. 

“Because you what?”

“Because I work with your brother. Torres would certainly kill me if I knowingly let you go back into that place.”

He couldn’t believe he almost said it. He couldn't say it. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

“He doesn’t know. He doesn’t have to know. I’ll stay here until I’m well enough, then go back.”

“Viv, you’re not listening to what I’m saying. I’m not hiding you from Joaquin. You’re not fucking leaving, either.”

Her chest heaved. She was mad. Pissed. But Bucky would rather her be pissed at him and alive than the alternative.

“I’m going to text Sam and Joaquin.”

“Bucky, please—”

“No. I’m sorry, but I have to tell them. They can help. Your brother has the resources to get what they need to take this ring down.”

“I’ll never forgive you if you do this,” Viviana declared. “I swear to God, Bucky.”

He nodded, more to himself than her, already knowing the consequences of his plan. “I can deal with you hating me. I can’t deal with you dying.”

Viviana didn’t talk to Bucky for the rest of the week unless she was yelling at him. The only victory was that she was still staying with him, where everyone knew she’d be safe. Another more personal victory was that she still let him tend to her injuries. 

Joaquin was deep in the dark web, getting any and all information he could on this man. He hadn’t been back since he first texted him, but he called Bucky every day. 

“How is she?”

“Refuses to talk to me. Glares at me. Stubborn as hell. The usual.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me. I can’t believe she was stupid enough to even think she was going back to that place. It would’ve been suicide.”

“Your sister isn’t stupid, Torres.” Bucky looked at his closed bedroom door. He wanted to open it and make sure she didn’t slip out his window, but she had had all week to do that and didn't. “None of us wants anything like this to happen. She still would’ve been there if she hadn’t tried to help one of the girls.”

“Yeah, I know. I'm trying not to think about that.” Joaquin let out a harsh breath. “Sam and I think we’re finally getting somewhere on this guy. He’s a real fucking scum bag.”

“Most men are.”

“Okay, now is not the time to get all existential on me.” There was a brief pause before he spoke again. “Just take care of my sister.”

Bucky swallowed, fingers tightening around the phone. “With my life.”

The hot water ran over his skin, but it didn’t wash away the dark stain on his soul. It’d been almost a month since Viviana showed up on his doorstep, beaten and bleeding. He honestly wasn’t even sure why she was still here. 

At first, medically, it made sense. But Bucky wasn’t her keeper. He wasn’t locking her here. He had a sense it was because of her brother. She’d do almost anything for her brother, including doing stupid and dangerous things to keep him away from trouble. 

Bucky rinsed the shampoo from his hair, wishing he had cut it again. It was becoming a hassle. He turned off the faucet, reaching for his towel and quickly drying his body off before going to his hair. The shower mat was plush under his feet as he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist. 

As he looked up into the mirror, a stranger stared back. His eyes were red, his face was pale, and there were bruises under his eyes the size of Texas. Even though he’d just gotten out of the shower, he splashed some cold water on his face and leaned against the counter with his hands. 

What was he doing? It didn’t feel like he was doing enough because the man responsible for hurting Viv was still out there. Bucky was about to walk into the damn place and take care of it his own way, damn the consequences. 

And Viviana was still pissed at him. More tolerable of him lately, but he was still the bad guy who blabbed to her brother and ruined her plans. Dumb plans, but the woman was stubborn, strong-willed, and might hit him if he said that to her face.

He reached down to throw his towel off and get dressed when the door slammed open against the wall, revealing a very pissed-off Viviana. 

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky was frozen. Either she didn’t care that he was practically naked, or she was so pissed off that it didn’t register.

“That’s my phone,” Bucky said.

“I know it’s your phone, smartass. It’s been going off constantly because you’ve been drowning in here for the last thirty minutes!”

Wow, thirty minutes?

“Okay, then, can I have my phone?”

“No,” Viviana replied, her eyes trailing down his abdomen and widening before jumping back up to his face. “What’s your password?”

Bucky tensed. “Why?”

She waved his phone in front of him. “I want you to tell me what your password is.”

He could see the home screen, which meant she’d already unlocked his phone. Guessed what his password was. Heat crawled under his skin. “You already unlocked it.”

Her caramel eyes were molten. The pink scar that ran from under her chin down to her chest made her look even more fierce. “Bucky. Tell me your damn password. I want to hear you say it.”

He crossed his arms over his damp chest. “It’s eight-four-eight-four.”

“And what are the letters associated with those numbers?”

“There isn’t any.” Lie. “I just liked the numbers.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Viviana was suddenly in his face, a finger pressed into his bare chest. 

“Okay. I like the year 1984.”

“Then why not make that your password?” she countered.

He shrugged. “Too easy.”

She blinked at him. He thought maybe she’d throttle him here in his own bathroom. In nothing but a towel.

What a way to go.

“Okay, fine. Van Halen released the song "1984". Eight four, eight four. Because, you know, it came out in '84.”

Her glare was murderous. Kind of hot. He was terribly attracted to it. And he was having terrible thoughts in which his towel would not hide the evidence pretty soon.

“I’m gonna punch out your perfect fucking teeth. I know that’s not the real reason, and I want to hear you say it.”

Perfect teeth, huh?

“You pay attention to my teeth?” he asked, knowing it would piss her off more. 

He was suddenly knocked back against the far wall.

“Goddamn it, Bucky! Why are you being so difficult?”

“Me?” Bucky grabbed and adjusted the towel so it didn’t fall off. “You’re the one who barged into the bathroom. I could’ve been naked.”

“Well…” Her eyes flicked down over his abdomen again, eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. “You weren't, so it's fine. So just answer the damn question.”

“Why do you care?”

“Why do I—” She slammed a fist down on the marble countertop. “Why is your password Vivi?”

A puff of air escaped him. He didn’t think she’d actually say it. “Who said it was?”

Viviana was in his face again. Too close. Too fucking close. He smelled her shampoo, jasmine and lavender. Sweet. Fucking intoxicating and invading his senses for a goddamn month. Driving him crazy. 

“I am. Because it is. Eight-four-eight-four. V-I-V-I. I'm not stupid. Why?”

Her breath was minty. He was searching for any reason to get out of this situation before he did something he might regret. “No one would ever guess it.”

Her nose was almost touching his. “Guess what? I did.”

“Do you wanna let me get clothes on before you start ripping me a new asshole?”

She leaned back on her heels, actually considering. “You know what? No. You can’t get dressed. How long has this been your password?”

Bucky tried not to look into her eyes, but it was almost impossible when she was still in his face. Not to mention, they were utterly captivating. It was hard not to look at her eyes in general. He was always looking at her eyes. 

Bucky opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “And don’t fucking lie because I’ll know.”

“Two years.”

“See? How hard was—” She blanched. “Did you say two years?”

He nodded, the tip of his nose brushing hers. His eyes flicked down to her mouth as she licked her bottom lip. Then bit it. 

Fuck.

“You… you barely—"

“Knew you?” Bucky finished for her. “Yeah. I know.”

She took a step back. “Why?”

Bucky followed, feeling emboldened by his honesty. “Why are you here?”

Viviana’s hands were balled into fists. Well, one was currently crushing his phone. “To get some answers.”

“No,” Bucky said. “Why are you still here? It’s been a month. You could’ve left. Stayed with your brother.”

“Right. Because that’s what every woman in her thirties wants: to live with her younger brother.”

“Don’t deflect. I answered honestly," Bucky admitted. 

“You would’ve dragged me back.” Another step.

“I wouldn’t have. You’re your own woman. I’m not your keeper.” He followed.

“Damn right you’re not. You don’t get to turn this around on me.” She hit the doorframe and stopped. 

“I’m not. You asked how long I had had the password, and I told you. Two. Years. Now it’s your turn. Why haven’t you left?”

Bucky watched as she steeled her spine. “I don’t know.”

He tsked. “Now I know that’s a lie. But that’s okay. I’ll give you another chance. Why haven’t you left my place yet, Vivi?”

She inhaled audibly. Her eyes moved all around his face, searching for something. He didn’t know what she’d find. He felt out of his mind right now, and since he’d come back into his own self over the years, she was the only person who had been capable of doing this to him. 

Her eyes haunted his sleep. Her laugh was the soundtrack of his dreams. Her pain was his worst nightmare. And she knew none of it. Nothing. In fact, now that he was thinking about it, how the hell did she remember where his apartment was, let alone the number?

She’d only been here twice, a few months after they were introduced. She had a better memory than most.

Viviana still hadn’t said anything. Maybe she truly didn’t know why she was still here. And that was okay. It meant he got to see her. Made sure she was breathing. She was all his here, but not in the way that he wished.

It was a terribly selfish thought.

His eyes followed the path down her throat, the healing scar catching his attention. As much as he hated how it got there, it was beautiful. She was beautiful. Not a single fucking part of her wasn’t. And he wished he could tell her that every fucking day.

She survived. She fought like hell. She was saving others and putting them above her own safety. 

Bucky wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but everything erupted because she pushed forward. Her lips were on his. 

Oh fucking god. Viviana was fucking kissing him. 

He was frozen in place. He couldn’t make himself move. Then her heat was gone as soon as it arrived. 

When she pulled back and looked at him, her cheeks were flushed. Had he ever seen her flushed like this? 

Oh God.

She licked her lips, and he wanted to sink his teeth into her plump bottom lip. He’d beg. He’d fucking roll over like a dog if she commanded him to. He was reduced to the most basic and primal functions of a man around her. She fucking kissed him, and he was losing his goddamn mind.

Why didn't he kiss her back?

“I shouldn’t have done that," Viviana whispered. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do it again.”

Shit. Did he just say that?

She blinked and tilted her head up at him. “What?”

Fuck it.

He closed the minute distance between them. “Do it again.”

“Bucky, I don’t think—”

He kissed her. He was kissing her. And she melted, kissing him back almost immediately. 

Bucky let out a sound he didn’t know he could make. One hand came up and framed her face while the other wrapped around the back of her neck, tilting her head to the side so he could kiss her deeper. 

Fuck. He was fucked. Utterly fucked. But he couldn’t care less right now. 

Viviana’s hands came to rest on his bare chest, and he shuddered. His body had a mind of its own as his fingers tangled in the back of her curls and tilted her head up at a sharper angle. 

She gasped, sliding her hands around his neck, and he swallowed the sound down like a starving man drinking water. 

It was like he’d never been able to breathe properly until this moment. Everything else in his life felt worthless except for this. Except for her. 

He felt her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he was pretty sure he whimpered. He parted his lips and met her tongue with his. She tasted like sweet nectar. Like the caramel of her eyes. Like the honey of her voice. 

Bucky Barnes was so achingly past the point of no return for Viviana. He was so in love with her that it was pathetic. He wasn’t a selfish man. He didn’t want to be a selfish man. But he was only a man. And right now, he was fucking selfish as he pulled her closer. 

He sank his teeth into her bottom lip and pulled. She moaned, nails digging into his scalp, and tugged on his hair. 

Did he say he wanted to cut it? Fuck no. Not anymore. He wanted to feel her hands in his hair, tugging, pulling, whatever the hell she wanted. 

Bucky had completely forgotten what she’d barged in here for. This was all he could remember. This was all he needed to know. 

Viviana was feeding him her tongue like candy at this point, and all he wanted to do was take a bite of her sweetness every day for the rest of his life. 

Viviana. Maria. Torres. 

Torres. 

Oh fuck. Torres.

Bucky pulled away with a strength he didn’t think he possessed and turned his back to her. He couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs. 

Fuck, he’d messed up. He’d kissed Torres’s sister. 

“Bucky?” Viviana’s voice was raspy. Because of him. Because he kissed her senseless and almost started something terribly, horribly wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and tugged sharply. He went to spin his ring, but he hadn’t put it on yet. “I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.”

He couldn’t turn. He couldn’t face her because he wasn’t sure he wouldn't pull her back to him and finish what they started. 

“Why are you—”

“You should go.” 

He stood there for what felt like forever before the door shut. Then he let out a breath, sagging against the counter, and put his face in his hands. 

It took Bucky another ten minutes before he’d worked up the nerve to leave the bathroom. He was glad he brought clothes in there because his bedroom door was shut. Truthfully, it had been Viviana’s bedroom for the last month. He slept on the couch. 

He was ashamed of himself for letting that happen. She had pulled away from him, and what had he done? Asked her to do it again. 

God, he was never going to be able to look Torres in the face. Either of them. He went to grab his phone, but he remembered he didn’t have it. Remembered that was the whole reason Viv had barged in here. He looked at the bedroom door.

He could do without it for a while. He’d figure out who was texting or calling him later. There was a bottle of whiskey on top of his fridge that had his name on it. 

Two hours later, Bucky wished he could get drunk. He’d never really cared that he couldn’t before, but at this moment, he very much did. He’d downed the whole bottle of Jameson, and only just stopped himself from grabbing another when he heard the bedroom door open. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and nearly face-planted onto the table. 

“Jesus, it smells like a fucking distillery.”

Bucky grumbled a response. He couldn’t smell it, but he didn’t doubt it. All he smelled was Viviana as she walked into the kitchen. 

She plopped down on the chair next to him, the heat from her body radiating into his. “Are you wallowing alone in your misery, or am I allowed to join?”

Bucky lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “You want to join?”

She looked like she was ready to bolt, but she nodded. “Got anything stronger?”

Bucky angled his head to the top of this fridge. “Scotch. Though most aren’t fans.”

Viviana smiled, as if she took that as a challenge. “I’m not most people.”

No, you fucking aren't.

Bucky was a little dumbfounded. She was just ignoring what happened. Maybe it was for the better. It definitely couldn’t be repeated; that was for damn sure. 

She stood on her tiptoes, her tank top riding up to reveal the tanned skin of her back. Bucky looked away, his face heated. He’d blame the alcohol if she asked. She unscrewed the top and sat back down. 

“Glasses are—okay. Yup. Just right from the bottle is fine.”

Bucky watched as she swallowed a good amount before letting the bottle fall from her lips. 

“Fuck.” She winced, her nose wrinkling as she squeezed her eyes shut. “That’s fucking awful. Why do you have this?”

Bucky shrugged. “Pain. Can’t get drunk so…”

Viviana looked at him, and he hoped she couldn’t read anything on his face. But then she smiled, and Bucky knew he was in trouble. 

“Wanna play a game?”

“No.”

“Too bad, you're playing.”

"Then why bother asking?"

She downed another shot’s worth of scotch and slid the bottle to him. “Never have I ever used someone’s name as my phone passcode.”

There was a devious glint in Viviana’s eyes as she waited for Bucky to take a drink. “This is no fun.”

“Trust me. It’s a lot of fun. Now drink.”

Bucky grabbed the bottle by the neck and drank a healthy amount. He licked his lips, keeping his eyes on her. She watched the movement of his tongue before looking up.

“My turn?” She nodded. “Never have I ever kissed a man over a hundred years old.”

Fuck. Why did he do that?

She glared at him. “You’re a bastard.”

“You started it, Vivi.”

She snatched the bottle from him and took two large gulps. She shook her head. “Agh. Still disgusting.”

Bucky didn’t miss the two swallows. One for when she kissed him, the other for when he kissed her. He spun the ring on his finger twice.

Viviana licked her lips and then caught her bottom lip with her teeth. “Never have I ever jumped out of a plane without a parachute because it was too low.”

He spun the ring once more. “Your brother has a big mouth.” He snatched the bottle back, trying very hard not to think about her lips on the bottle as he swallowed more scotch. 

Bucky was feeling warm now. Probably from the alcohol. More likely because of the woman with near-black ringlets and caramel eyes sitting in front of him.

 “Never have I ever dated a man named Rafael who tried to impress me by driving me around in his squad car off-duty.”

Viviana’s jaw dropped before she snapped it shut. “How the hell do you know that?”

She grabbed the bottle from him, fingers grazing his. “As I said five seconds ago, your brother has a big mouth. And I hear everything.”

He didn’t need to tell her he knew every obscure fact or story that Torres had ever told him and Sam over the last two years. She downed quite a bit of scotch. Probably because of the painful memory of dating a guy named Rafael. Bucky had been lucky she’d never been with anyone while knowing her, because he wasn't sure what he would’ve done if he had ever seen the guy that was—

No. Nope. Don't go there. 

Viviana sputtered as she finally stopped drinking. Bucky looked at the scotch and realized how much was gone already. Fuck. He spun the ring. She shoved the bottle his way before she asked her question. 

“Never have I ever been nervous around women enough that I have to spin my fidget ring.”

He wanted to correct her. Woman. Singular. But he drank. 

She leaned over the table, and he could smell the scotch on her breath, mixing with the scent of her hair as it fell over her shoulders. “Do I make you nervous, Sergeant?”

“Always.”

She batted her lashes at him. “Why’s that?”

He spun the ring with his thumb, watching her eyes flick to the movement. “Because you’re going to kill me one day, Viviana.”

She frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“This isn’t how the game is played.” Bucky nodded at the bottle. “And don’t ask questions you’re not ready to get answers for.”

Viviana stared at him, looking perplexed. “You—I don’t… what does that mean?”

Bucky stood from the chair. “Game’s over, Viv.”

As he walked past her chair, she grabbed his hand. He flinched.

“Bucky, wait.”

His body locked in place at her words. He wanted to run away. He didn’t think he could do this. The questions. The looks. His name on her lips was like a drug. She was probably drunk or on her way to being drunk from the scotch.

This was a bad idea.

He finally looked at her, at those gorgeous fucking eyes and beautiful pouty lips.

Fuck.

“What do you want?”

What did he want? He wanted a lot of things.

1. Live a normal life: Way past having that.

2. Stop fighting: Never gonna happen. He found the fights, or the fights would find him.

3. Viviana fucking Torres: Never, ever, going to happen.

 Bucky swallowed, fighting the urge to spin his ring, but he couldn’t because she had a hold of his hand. 

“Viviana.”

“What?”

Bucky opened his mouth to say what? He didn’t know. But the door opened and saved him from whatever mess it was going to be. 

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over two hours, and wow.” Torres walked into Bucky’s apartment with Sam in tow. “It smells like a distillery in here. What the hell are you two drinking?”

Viviana pulled her hand away and turned toward her brother. “Scotch. Shit’s terrible.”

“Then why the hell are you drinking it?”

She paused before answering. “Pain.”

Bucky flicked his ring with his thumb. 

Sam shut the door, throwing his bag on the table. “That’s a Bucky answer. I think you’ve been here for too long, Vee.”

He spun the ring again. 

“Everything okay, Buck?”

He blinked up at Sam. “Yeah. Fine. Did you get something?”

Torres smiled. “Did we fucking ever.”

Viviana stared at Joaquin for a solid minute after he laid out the information before finally saying, "I'm coming with you."

"No," Bucky and Joaquin said simultaneously, turning to look at each other.

"Absolutely not," Joaquin continued.

"You don't get to tell me what to do," she snapped.

"Viv, you were beaten and almost killed a month ago." Joaquin stepped forward, grabbing his sister's arms. "You're not going near this."

"He wasn't going to kill me."

"You don't fucking know that!"

Bucky could count on one hand the times he'd seen Joaquin furious, or heard him raise his voice. Every single one of them was about Viviana.

"I can hold my own, little brother."

Joaquin laughed. "Fuck, Viv. Really? I'm not ten anymore. I'm thirty years old. I'm a First Lieutenant in the Air Force. I'm the fucking Falcon, for fucksake!"

"Okay," Sam interrupted. "Why don't we go sit down and—"

"That doesn't mean I'm going to let anything happen to you!" Viviana yelled.

It went eerily silent. All eyes went to her.

"You could've died after you fell into the ocean. I had to watch them restart your heart."

Joaquin sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "You've been blown up and shot at, too, Viv. How do you think I feel? This wasn't even your normal work, and you still came back bloodied and beaten."

"It was worth it," Viviana said, her tone steel. "Those girls were worth everything that happened to me."

Bucky had never been more pissed off and proud at the same time. He didn't want Viv anywhere near this, but damn it, she was an amazing human being. Risking her own well-being, her life, for innocent women being abused.

Bucky grabbed one of the bottles of water he always kept on the counter and held it out to her. "Drink."

"Right now? Really?"

"You're drunk. I don't want a Torres sibling brawl in my fucking kitchen, so start drinking, or I'll force your jaw open and make you drink it myself."

She leveled him with a heated glare before snatching the bottle from his hand and storming out of the kitchen. Bucky watched until she was completely out of his sight, hearing his bedroom door slam, then finally turned back to Sam and Joaquin. They both had strange looks on their faces.

"What?"

Joaquin looked in the direction his sister went, then back at Bucky. "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing." Bucky shrugged. "She doesn't like to be told what to do."

"I know. She's my sister. But you just… What the fuck."

"You just told her what to do," Sam finished for Joaquin.

"No. I told her what I was going to do. Which made her go do it herself. Her choice."

Sam and Joaquin stared at Bucky, dumbfounded.

"When did you become so… knowledgeable on my sister?"

Bucky spun his ring.

Fuck.

"I—she's been living here for a month."

"Okay." Joaquin tilted his head. "And I lived with her for half of my life."

Sam laughed. "Oh." He doubled over Bucky's kitchen table and laughed into his hands. "Wow. Shit. I didn't see that coming."

"Didn't see what coming?" Joaquin asked.

"Sam."

He lifted his head. "Really, Joaquin. C'mon. You seriously don't see it?"

"Sam."

"See what?"

"See that—" Bucky was around the table and fisted Sam's shirt, dragging him towards the front door. "Hey! Let me go!"

He didn't. He opened the door, pushed Sam out, and pulled it shut behind him.

"Stop. Please, just… don't."

Sam's eyes widened. "Please? When's the last time you ever said please to anyone?"

"Drop it." Bucky's voice dropped low so Joaquin couldn't hear through the door.

"Tell me." Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "What exactly am I dropping?" Bucky glared at his friend, but didn't say anything. "The fact that you're—"

"Shut up."

"How long?" he pried.

Bucky tipped his head back and bit his tongue.

"Weeks?" He paused, waiting for anything from Bucky. "Months?"

Bucky stayed quiet.

"No… Man, really?" Sam fell back against the wall. "You've been pining after Vee for that long?"

"I have not been pining," Bucky said, looking away.

"Look me in the eyes and say it." Bucky said nothing. "See? Good ol' radar strikes hot again." Sam pushed off the wall and stepped up to him. "Is that why she came to you after she got hurt? Are you two having some sort of secret affair?"

Bucky scoffed. "This isn't a damn sitcom, Sam."

"That's not a no."

"It's a definite no," Bucky said. "We're not anything."

Sam raised a brow. "So unrequited love, then."

Bucky glared at his friend. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"That's where you're wrong." He smiled. "You've probably been hooked since day one, am I right? Staring out the window at the woman driving Joaquin to work. Yeah, I remember that. Damn near speechless at dinner when you're finally introduced."

"Sam, please stop."

"But this is getting good. I wonder if Joaquin will kick your ass, but knowing you, it'll take another five years before the hand-holding starts."

"Torres isn't gonna find out because it's not a thing. Case closed. Now, let's figure this shit out and bring this bastard down."

Bucky opened the door and guided Sam back inside to a very confused Joaquin.

"Do I wanna know?" he asked.

"There's nothing to know," Bucky said quickly. "You two figure the timeline out. I'm gonna talk to Viv."

"Yes, sir." Sam smiled, but Bucky ignored him and walked to his bedroom.

He knocked on the door lightly. "Viv? Can I come in?"

"It's your place. Why don't you just barge in?"

Someone was definitely still mad.

"I don't have a habit of barging into rooms where others are present and possibly naked."

The door opened, and he was yanked inside with surprising force.

"Are you crazy?" Viviana still had a hold of his shirt as she closed the door. "My brother is here."

"He couldn't hear," Bucky said plainly.

She finally let go and stepped back, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip. Bucky's traitorous eyes flicked down, eyeing the sliver of skin between her tank top and shorts.

"Your voice carries more than you think it does."

"Does it now?" he inquired, utterly distracted.

"Yes. Infuriatingly so." Her eyes were lit with a fire that had raged to life. "What do you want?"

Bucky flicked his ring. "Wanted to make sure you drank the water."

The empty plastic water bottle flew towards his chest. He caught it. "Yes. Asshole. But that's not why you're in here."

Bucky chuckled, setting the bottle down on his bedside table as he moved forward. Viviana sat down on the edge of Bucky's bed.

"You're right. We just want you to be safe."

She scoffed. "I haven't been safe since I joined the Army, Bucky. My life is always filled with danger." Bucky walked up to her and knelt at her feet. Her eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

Bucky let his hand drift upward until it was resting atop her knee. She inhaled, nostrils flaring. His ring was probably cold against her skin. "Just because your life is dangerous doesn't mean you should actively put it in danger when there are other ways around it." He stroked the soft skin of her thigh with his thumb. "You have people who care about you trying to help. Let them."

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze stuck on his hand, but he didn't move it. He didn't know what had gotten into him today. But he wasn't going to let her set a foot into danger if he could avoid it.

"Why can't I be a part of this?" Viviana asked. "And I expected my brother to try keeping me out of harm's way, but why you?"

"Why me?" Bucky laughed. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yes, I am."

He sighed. "Because I care too, Vivi."

"Don't call me that," she snapped sharply.

"Okay." He squeezed her knee. "Viviana. I care about you. A month ago, you came to me hurt because of this man. Excuse me if I don't want you anywhere in the same vicinity again."

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

Bucky continued.

"I've been good for so long. I got past my fears. The pain. It's always going to be there, but I worked through it. And then you end up on my doorstep bleeding, pass out in my arms, and I feel a murderous instinct that had nothing to do with what I did in my past." Bucky looked up, and her eyes were glistening. "Whatever I can do to keep you safe and away from this bastard, I'm willing to do. Even if you get pissed at me. Even if you hate me for the rest of your life. I told you before, I'm not your keeper. I won't lock you down. But I'm asking."

It was so much more than asking. He was begging. Quite literally on his knees.

"Asking me what?" she breathed, her fingers fisting his comforter.

"Stay here. Let us take care of this. Wait until we get the bastard, and you can help with the girls afterward." His hand flexed, squeezing her thigh before realizing what he was doing. "I'll settle for you staying in the vehicle if that's what it takes."

Bucky flinched when her hand settled over his. "And if I tell you no? If I tell you, Sam, and my brother to fuck off with your overbearing nonsense?"

Bucky bit his cheek. "It's not the first time you've told me to fuck off. I'm certain it won't be the last. If you do, I'll let you walk back out there, and you can argue with Torres until you're blue in the face. But that's your choice."

"You're giving me a choice?"

He hated that she sounded skeptical of him. That she expected him, or people in general, to take away her choice. Never. He would never take away her choice. Not when he'd had his choice taken from him for decades.

"Viviana, I may come across as harsh, but don't ever accuse me of taking away your choice." Bucky stood, his hand sliding out from under hers. "You will always have a choice with me."

Torres squinted at Bucky when he came back out. "What did you say to her?"

"I told her it was her choice, but that people who cared wanted her safe."

He raised an eyebrow. "Wise words. But I'm not letting her go in with us."

Now it was Bucky's turn to scrutinize Torres. "She's a grown woman. A First Sergeant in the Army. I'll take my bets on her when you two start brawling after saying that to her face."

He scoffed. "Really? Weren't you the one who just told Viv you were gonna force water down her throat if she didn't drink it?"

"I said that, yes," he admitted. "I wasn't going to actually do it. She just needed the push."

"And how is this any different?" Joaquin turned to Sam. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head, leaning against the wall. "Think I'm gonna have to side with Buck on this one."

"Really? C'mon man. This man hurt my sister!" Joaquin raged. "She's not going anywhere near him."

"Hey." Bucky grabbed Joaquin by the shoulders. "None of us wants Viv to come under any more harm. But it's her decision to make. Let her make it."

"I want to be there." Viviana's voice startled them all.

Bucky's hands dropped from Torres's shoulders.

He turned toward his sister. "Viv, please—"

"Just listen to me." His mouth snapped shut. When she was satisfied that none of them would talk over her, she continued. "I want to be there when you take the ring down. But I will stay in the van until he's dead or in cuffs."

A small smile formed on Bucky's lips.

Thatta girl, Vivi.

"Then I want to scope the building and help get any of the girls. That's my only condition."

Joaquin looked back at Bucky, shocked. Befuddled. Then he turned back to his sister. "Yeah. Okay. We can do that."

Viviana smiled. "Now come give me a hug, hermano. You've been hunting bad guys for a month."

As Torres walked up to his sister and fell into her embrace, Bucky watched. He didn't miss how tightly he squeezed her, how small he looked in that moment. He'd been so focused on getting the bad guy, mad at his sister for trying to keep this hidden from him, that he'd been holding his breath the entire time. Holding her at arm's length.

She caught Bucky's eyes when she pulled away. "So when is this happening?"

"This upcoming Friday," Sam spoke up, glancing between him and Viviana.

"Good. So there are a few days to plan." She was nearly bouncing on her feet. "Who wants to order food and finish Bucky's liquor?"

Three hours later, Viviana had stolen Bucky's wallet—he'd handed it to her—and several bags of food and liquor showed up in front of his door after being Uber'd here.

"Viv! Please tell me you ordered like five helpings of the breadsticks!" Torres yelled as Bucky set the bags on the table.

"Who do you think I am? Of course, I ordered a shit ton of breadsticks."

Bucky's apartment quickly filled with the smell of garlic and Italian spices by the time he got all the food out of the bags. Viviana indeed ordered enough breaksticks to feed a small army.

"Okay, heathens. Come eat."

The Torres siblings came bounding in like children being told they could have sweets. Viviana was carrying around a bottle of rosé he didn't even remember buying. Which meant she'd probably stashed it here over the last couple of weeks. She claimed her spot, taking a swig from the bottle before snatching a bag of breadsticks for herself.

Bucky grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge, popping the tops with his left hand, and offered one to Sam as he finally walked in. He took a healthy sip before leaning against the counter.

"¡Dios mío!" Viviana groaned as she bit the end of the breakstick off. "Fuck. I forgot how good these were."

"Sharing is caring, hermana."

She slapped Torres's hand. "There's like five other bags. Go pick one."

"How do I know you didn't take the best one?"

She slapped him again as he tried to look in the bag. "Shoo."

"Fine." Joaquin moved onto the table and searched for a few seconds before finding what he wanted. "I'll just have to take some of that calamari you—"

"Don't even think about it, or I'll put your ass on the ground right now."

"Okay, children. Let's calm down," Sam said, taking a swig from his beer and then shaking his head. "Fucking hell."

Bucky smiled, hiding it by finishing his beer off. He set it on the counter and walked over to grab his food in peace, but Viviana had other ideas.

"Bucky." She batted her eyelashes at him. "Be a gentleman and grab my food for me."

He slid his food to a spot on the table and grabbed her calamari. "Which one is yours? Just the alfredo?"

"Uh-huh." He picked up the pasta and brought both containers to her spot at the island. "Thank you."

Bucky nodded and then sat down while Joaquin and Sam finally settled down.

It was quiet for maybe a minute before Torres spoke up. "Why don't we go to Olive Garden more? Damn. I might have a heart attack, but it's so worth it."

Sam laughed. "Because a lot of people cook. You cook, Joaquin."

Bucky raised a brow. "Torres, you cook?"

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I mean, I dabble."

"Dabble? Dude, you try to cook for me at least once a month if not more."

Bucky's brow furrowed. "Well, thanks for the invite." He wasn't terribly hurt by the lack of an invitation. Only a smidge.

"You don't answer your phone in time! I try."

Sam laughed again. "I'll pick you up next time he's plotting dinner."

Bucky stabbed a shrimp from his seafood carbonara and popped it in his mouth. Sam and Joaquin went off in a different direction, rambling about the University of Miami football game last night. After Bucky was damn near finished with his dish, he thought Viviana had been unnaturally quiet. He turned his attention to her at the island, nose deep in her alfredo.

Her eyes rolled back into her head as she leaned back against the chair, groaning, "I am going to regret this later," just before she popped a calamari ring in her mouth. She washed it down with the rosé, head tilted back, her thick hair falling over her shoulders. Bucky's eyes caught the liquid as it spilled from one corner of her mouth.

He flicked his ring with his thumb as an uncomfortable warmth spread down his spine. Everything in the room disappeared except for her. She wiped her mouth and chin with her hand, setting the bottle down, and then froze as she turned and caught him staring. For whatever reason, he didn't look away. And he was glad he didn't because a beautiful flush rose from her neck to her cheeks.

"Earth to Bucky?"

He blinked, snapping out of whatever daze he was in, and turned toward Torres. "Yeah? Sorry."

He nodded his head toward Viviana, smirking. "You're eyeing up the calamari, aren't you?"

Bucky blanked. "I, uh… Never had it, actually."

Joaquin's jaw dropped. "Like, Olive Garden's calamari? Or you've never had it like ever?"

Bucky shook his head. "Never." Heat quickly rose up his neck.

Sam smirked, knowing full well he wasn't looking at the damn food. "You should try it. See if you like it. If Vee doesn't rip your arm off for stealing her food. The flesh one too."

Bucky turned back to her, and her eyes were damn near sparkling. "'Spose I could part with one."

She hopped off her chair, bringing the container of calamari over to him. She stood in front of him, crossing her arms, and waited. Bucky went to grab one of the rings.

"Ah, no. Not that one." Bucky flicked his eyes up to hers. She was serious. He sighed, reaching for a different calamari ring. "No, not that one either."

"Well, then, why don't you pick which one you want me to eat?"

Viviana sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, looking down at the calamari, and he wanted nothing more than to be the one biting that plump lip.

Fuck. Jesus. He needed to screw his head back on because it was clearly coming loose.

She finally picked up a ring and held it out to him. And then he did something incredibly stupid, especially considering her brother was sitting on the other end of the table. He leaned forward and took the ring with his teeth, his lips brushing her fingertips. His gaze stayed on hers, watching her breath hitch, her hand still hovering in the air in front of him.

It was chewy. Not exactly what he expected, but he couldn't even remember if this was supposed to be squid or octopus. It was nicely seasoned, with light and crispy breading. He shrugged. "Not bad."

Torres chuckled nervously. "Oh, boy. Here it comes."

Viviana looked like Bucky had offended her mother. "Not bad? That's it?"

"What did you want me to say?"

"That it was the best thing you'd ever tasted in your long years on this planet."

Bucky frowned. "So you want me to lie. Because it definitely wasn't the best thing I've tasted."

His eyes dropped to her lips.

"Then eat another one," she demanded.

Torres gasped. "What? Are you ill? You're letting someone take two pieces from you?"

"Shut up."

Bucky reached into the container and popped another ring in his mouth, never once taking his eyes off her. He chewed slowly, watching her watch his mouth.

"This is weird, don't you think?" Torres whispered.

"Weird probably doesn't even begin to cover this, man. Think you need to get your sister out of the same air that Bucky breathes," Sam suggested.

Bucky ignored them both. He licked his lips. "That one was crispier."

"And?" Viviana leaned forward, hands on the table. Her face was inches from his, those caramel eyes doing everything they could to melt his resolve. If he looked down, which he wouldn't, he had a clear view of her chest. He didn't know if she'd even noticed. Or cared.

"And?" he echoed.

"Did you change your mind?"

"Nope." He popped the 'p' just to annoy her.

If Sam and Torres weren't here, he was sure he would have said something stupid about how nothing could ever compare to the taste of her. Or done something stupid like back her into the wall and kiss her again.

Selfish.

Sam cleared his throat, disguising it with a cough.

"Okay, I'm not sure what kind of pissing contest you two are having in your mind, but maybe don't?" Joauqin cut in.

Bucky leaned back in his chair. "No pissing contest. Right, Viv?"

She stood to her full height and then walked back, chugging more of her rosé. Over half the bottle was gone now. "No pissing contest."

"Okay, well, on that note, I think I need to go home." Sam pushed the chair back and stood. "You coming or staying, Joaquin?"

"I'm with you. I'm ready to pass out on my couch watching football."

Sam and Joaquin both grabbed their leftover food, the latter snagging another full bag of breadsticks. Viviana gave her brother another hug, and he kissed her on the cheek.

"Please don't kill each other."

She swatted at his chest. "Go home. Love you."

"Love you, too." He saluted Bucky. "Your company is always a pleasure. I treasure our time together."

"Careful, Torres. It almost sounds like you want me to like you."

He grinned that megawatt smile and then disappeared down the hall with a not-so-quiet, "Fuck, I love these breadsticks."

Bucky huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Sam."

"Buck." Sam clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him in close. His voice was low in his ear. "Maybe try to work that tension out. Talk. Or don't talk, depending on her response. If you catch my drift."

Bucky grimaced. "Get out of here."

Sam smiled, turning toward Viviana. "Make sure he gets his full eight hours of sleep tonight. Otherwise, he's not gonna be beautiful in the morning."

Viviana laughed, and Bucky wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted. "Samuel, you can't be suggesting he isn't beautiful right now, are you?"

"Me? I would never." Sam walked out, and the door shut behind him.

Bucky inhaled deeply before turning to Viviana. "So you look at my teeth, and you think I'm beautiful?"

He grinned, ducking as she grabbed and threw a pack of plastic silverware at him.

Bucky woke to a bloodcurdling scream. He shot off the couch, throwing the blanket to the floor. It came from his room.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he opened the door, but his heart broke. Viviana was sprawled out, the sheets twisted around her body, the comforter tossed on the floor. There was a sheen of sweat coating her skin, and as he approached the bed, she whimpered.

She was having a nightmare. Bucky was well-versed in nightmares. The coils in the mattress creaked as he sat down. Her skin was feverish when he put the back of his hand to her forehead.

"Shit." He leaned forward and brushed the damp curls stuck to her face back. "Hey, Vivi. It's Bucky."

Her nose scrunched up, and a whine crawled out of her throat.

"You're okay, sweetheart. It's just a nightmare." Viviana shot upward, smacking her forehead on his nose. "Fuck."

She winced. "Ah! What the—" Rubbing her forehead, she blinked up at Bucky. "What are you doing?"

He gingerly held his nose. "You screamed. Nightmare."

"Díos, you're bleeding."

"I'll be fine in a minute. Are you okay?" he asked.

"Did I break your nose?" Viviana leaned toward him, hands reaching toward his nose. "That's a lot of blood."

"Are you okay, Viv?"

She nodded. "Fine. I'm fine."

Bucky stood from the bed, pinching his nose. "There's an extra set of sheets on the top shelf in the closet. Throw the dirty ones just outside the door. I'll be right back."

The bathroom was a quick trip. The light flicked on, and Bucky swore. He braced his hands on the sink, letting the blood drip off his chin. Maybe his nose was broken. He let out a sharp breath, bracing his thumbs on each side of his nose, and pushed.

There was a painful, but satisfying crack as his nose shifted back into place. He grabbed a tissue, balled it up, and stuck it beneath his nose. His head hit the wall, and he closed his eyes.

This was fine. He could deal with a broken nose if Viv was okay. Once it finally stopped bleeding, he'd go back and check on her again. Bucky always said he was fine after a nightmare, and he never was. Not truly.

It took about ten minutes for the bleeding to stop. He tossed the tissues in the garbage, cleaned around his nose, and washed his hands. The second he reached his bedroom, Viviana barreled past him. He barely flattened himself against the wall before the bathroom door slammed shut, and he heard the sound of retching.

She'd had a lot of alcohol last night, but it could've been from her nightmare, too. The fog in his mind came back, but he shook his head. He walked into the bedroom and fully stripped the bed, including the pillowcases. He ran them over to the washer and started the load.

It took everything in him not to open the bathroom door and check on her. It wasn't his business. He was also fairly positive Viv didn't want him in there while she was puking. So he took his time putting the new sheets on the bed. Gave her time to compose herself before he inevitably checked on her.

Fifteen more minutes passed, and he couldn't help himself. He knocked gently.

"Hey, Viv. You good?"

"Go away," she croaked.

"You know that's not happening. Especially because you won't tell me you're okay." He was met with silence. "Vivi, I'm gonna come in."

There was no protest as he turned the handle. Viviana was hunched over the toilet bowl, arms braced on the seat. Bucky dropped to his knees at her side.

"Let me know you're okay."

"Can't you let a girl drown in her misery by herself?" She groaned. "Oh, fuck."

She retched again, and Bucky gathered her thick curls in his hand. He used his free hand to grab the stray tendrils that escaped, tucking them behind her ears. Her entire body heaved. He let his vibranium hand settle on her back. Rubbed his fingers gently, trying to soothe her.

"Just let it all out. Don't fight it," he whispered.

Viviana spit into the toilet. "I've had a hangover before. I know how it works."

"But you're tense. Your whole body seizes up. No one likes to throw up, but your body is fighting it."

She turned her head enough to glare at him. "Are you really analyzing me right now, Bucky?"

"Sorry," he murmured. "Can I do anything?"

"No."

Bucky plucked the scrunchie off her wrist and started braiding her hair. "Do you want me to leave?"

She didn't answer him for a solid minute. He finished braiding, his fingers lingering on her neck. A shudder ran through her whole body.

"No."

Bucky sat with her until she was done throwing up. Done shaking. Until her breathing finally evened out. He wondered what he'd done to deserve this. Being in the presence of this woman. Even sick and shaking, she was beautiful. Strong. The eighth wonder of the world, but the only wonder in his.

He was so pathetically in love with Viviana. Hopelessly. But he could never tell her. He was a burdened man with a past that dragged behind him like lead weights. Viviana deserved more. Light, not darkness. Warmth, not cold. A life free of chains.

Viviana's voice dragged him out of his head. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

He felt her muscles tense. "Help me up."

He braced one hand at her waist, the other on her arm, as he pulled her up from the floor. The toilet flushed, and she leaned against the counter. It wasn't until now, as Viviana reached for her toothbrush, that he realized she wasn't wearing any pants. He'd barely even registered that she'd thrown on one of his old tees to sleep in. The rate of his breathing increased drastically, and he looked away.

He could do this. This was fine.

She stood, pushing back against him.

Fuck. He couldn't do this. Her ass pressed right against him, and he didn't think she noticed.

He counted to sixty.

"All good?"

She hummed, spat toothpaste into the sink, and washed it down the drain. "For the moment. Fucking scotch. Never again."

"Or maybe no games with scotch," he insisted.

"Fuck you." She started toward the bedroom when she kicked the edge of the doorframe.

Bucky lunged and caught her, pulling her up. In the same movement, he swept her legs up under the crook of his arm and lifted her off her feet. "I know you want to argue. Don't. Just let me."

Surprisingly, she stayed quiet. He set her on her feet when he got into the room, letting her settle into bed before he turned to leave.

"Wait."

He turned back. "Yes?"

She opened her mouth. Shut it. "You know how to braid hair?"

Bucky eyed her quizzically. "That's what you wanted to know?" She gave a slight nod. "My sister. Younger sister." Bucky sat down on the corner of the bed. "Saw Ma do it hundreds of times. Did it myself a few times. Though it's been a while."

The lines of Viviana's face softened. "I didn't know you had a sister."

"Three sisters. I was the oldest child. I don't talk about them much."

"Wow," she said. "That explains a lot."

Bucky's brows pulled together. "What exactly does that explain?"

"The difference between your relationship with men and women. Specifically, Joaquin, Sam, and me."

"Enlighten me, Vivi."

"You're so brash with them," she said. " I mean, I know that you care for them, but it doesn't look like it from the outsider's point of view sometimes. I just look at it like roughhousing between brothers you never got to have when you were younger."

His lips tipped up. "And you?"

"You're an ass most of the time." She laughed. "But you're soft."

"Soft?"

"Yeah. Soft." She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Not mushy, but gentle."

"I'm not very good at gentle," Bucky countered, spinning his ring twice.

"And I think that's a lie you keep telling yourself for whatever reason. Like with the water."

Flick. "What about it?"

Viviana held his stare. "You threatening to force me, making me pissed off enough that I did it myself. But it was my choice. Just like you told me it was my choice whether or not I chose to be there when we get the damn bastard who's selling young women."

Bucky's jaw tensed. "Your brother wasn't trying to take your choice from you. He loves you. Doesn't want to see you get hurt again."

"I know."

"I don't want you hurt again."

She swallowed hard. "I know."

"I'm not as good a man as you're making me out to be," Bucky confessed.

"Why do you think that?" she asked, genuine curiosity in her voice.

Did he tell her? Could he tell her? He'd already given so much of himself away, given her pieces he never gave anyone else willingly. But she didn't know that. Bucky looked at the scar that ran down her throat, knowing that it extended all the way down to her hips because he had stitched it up himself.

Anger bubbled up inside him.

"Because I wanted to—want to—slit this bastard's throat for scarring you. But not before I'd make him feel every ounce of the pain he made you feel and then some."

Well, shit. That was not what he wanted to say.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Bucky looked away and cleared his throat. "I should go. Let you get back to sleep." He stood and made his way to the door again when he was stopped.

Viviana had uncurled, reached out, and grabbed his hand. He stared at their connected hands. One was beautiful. Long, slender fingers. Tanned skin. Warm. The other was a machine. Cold metal, though the vibranium warmed to a temperature much quicker than the titanium did. It was still stained with blood. Metaphorically. This wasn't the exact arm that had ended so many lives and caused so much damage, but that didn't matter because it was him all the same.

He tore his eyes away from their hands, finding himself looking at those caramel eyes that melted his insides far more than he would ever admit out loud.

"Stay."

He blinked. Did he hear that right? "What?"

Viviana's lip quivered. "Don't make me say it again."

Bucky's chest tightened, his lungs refusing to take in the air he needed. "Vivi."

"Please, stay." So he did hear her correctly. "Just until I fall back asleep."

His lips parted, but nothing came out. He shut his mouth. Licked his suddenly very dry lips.

"Only if you're comfortable," she added.

"Okay. Yeah, okay," he finally responded. "Lie back down."

Viviana turned away from him, settling on the other side of the bed. Bucky sat against the headboard, staying on top of the comforter while she buried herself in the fabric. He closed his eyes, focusing on slowing his racing heart. He shouldn't be here. In his bed with her. Wearing nothing but his shirt and God knows what below.

When it was clear that he was only doing more harm with his eyes closed, he turned to look at her. She was facing away from him, arms curled tightly against her chest. Her breathing had evened out. Maybe he'd be able to slip out of here soon. But while he was here, he just looked.

There were wisps of curls that escaped her braid. Even in the dark, he could see the lighter brown strands that were sun-bleached, creating natural highlights. With her hair off her back, he followed the curve of her neck. He wished he could run his fingers along it, help loosen the muscles that were bunched so tightly. He imagined running his nose along the curve, inhaling that damn jasmine shampoo that never seemed to dissipate from her hair. Smell the sweetness of her skin. Imagined pressing his lips at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Pressing kisses all the way down her spine, whispering that she was beautiful. And strong. And too damn good for him and this world.

Bucky was so lost in his head, in this fantasy that would never be anything more than a fantasy, that he didn't notice Viviana had turned. He flinched when he met her eyes.

"Everything okay?"

She started nodding, but then stopped. "No. My chest feels tight. I feel like I can't get enough oxygen."

Neither could he.

"Your body is probably still full of adrenaline. Cortisol," he said, his voice soft. "Turn around. Let me try something." She gave him a confused look. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then turn back around."

She settled back down, facing away from him, and he turned onto his side.

This means nothing. This means nothing. You're just helping her sleep. Only helping her sleep.

Bucky settled at her back, still over the covers, and wrapped himself around her. She tensed, sucking in a sharp breath. "Relax. Compression will help your body shut down. Help you finally get back to sleep. But if you want me to stop, I will."

His mouth was right at the back of her neck, the very place he'd imagined touching and kissing.

Viviana shivered. "It's fine."

It wasn't fine. Bucky wasn't fine.

He willed his body not to shake. After she fell asleep, he'd leave. He'd go back to the couch and forget this ever happened. Except he knew he wouldn't forget. He'd remember the heat from her body, even through the thick fabric. He'd remember her asking him to stay. Her letting him hold her. Because that was what he was doing. He was holding the woman he was in love with, and she had no idea.

Drowsiness crept in, making it very hard to keep his eyes open. He squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked a couple of times. He could stay awake for a few more minutes. His eyes drifted shut.

Just until Vivi fell asleep. She was so warm. She smelled so good.

His eyes didn't open back up.