Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 3
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, human trafficking.
Word Count: 949
Previously On...: You watched some home movies of Jade in her Hydra facility. It was... disturbing, to say the least.
A/N: Rock me, rock me, rock me, Sexy Jesus! He died for our sins, you gotta believe us! Seriously, Hamlet 2 is a gem, and now this song is stuck in my head forever.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
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You and Bucky were silent as you closed your laptop. What could one say after watching a person you knew, personally, rip through a group of people as though they were wrapping paper on Christmas morning? There were no words.
After several long minutes, Bucky finally spoke. “After seeing that,” he said, “I think it’s all the more reason to make sure you don’t leave this safehouse unless you absolutely have to.”
“Yeah,” you said, devoid of all your previous fight. How could you argue with him about your safety after having seen that?
Bucky looked at you in surprise, as though he had expected you to challenge him. He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said. “Alright. We need a game plan. Did you come up with any leads about that Chloe girl that we can follow up on?”
You sighed. “Yeah,” you said, opening up a new tab in your browser. “So, Chloe mentioned her family was having money problems. I was able to figure out where her mom and step father do their banking; I thought we could take a look at their accounts, see if there’s any unusual activity that might point to them getting a share of her auction price. Then maybe we could trace the deposit back to whoever did the sale.”
“You think her parents knowingly participated in trafficking their own kid?” Bucky asked in horror. “Pocket, that’s dark.”
You avoided looking at him as you opened up a backdoor into the accounts in question. “You’d be surprised what people are willing to do when money gets involved. Not even a mother/daughter bond is immune from that kind of greed.”
Bucky’s gaze on you was almost tangible in its intensity. “I’m sorry. It’s so hard for me to envision a mother betraying her child like that; sometimes I forget you had to live it.”
“But you told Carthage about it,” you said softly. “At the mission debrief. When she said trafficking was below our paygrade.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky turned your chin so you were facing him. “I told her that human trafficking was something you and Nat both cared very deeply about stopping; that’s it.” He frowned. “I don’t expect you to believe me and that’s okay, but I would never divulge your past to anyone. Not when I know how few people you trusted with that information. I just wanted her to stop acting like it was some kinda game and to treat it as seriously as it deserved to be treated.”
“Oh,” you said after a moment. Something in his words rang true, but there was still the lingering doubt that he was being honest. “Don’t worry about, Barnes,” you said, studiously avoiding eye contact as you breached the bank’s security system. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
You could feel him staring at you, and you didn’t need to be looking back to envision the look he was giving you— the one that let you know he thought you were full of shit. Fortunately, he allowed your lie to pass without another word while you continued to breach the bank’s system.
“Okay, I’m in,” you said after a moment. Bucky got up and came to stand behind you, looking at your monitor over your shoulder.
“Anything?” he asked.
You scrolled through Chloe’s stepfather’s transaction history. Liquor stores, smoke shops, some escort services. “Real classy guy,” you murmured. And then, you hit it: the night Chloe had left the club for good, there was a substantial deposit made to the account in the amount of $250,000.
“Holy shit,” you whispered. “I figured he might get a cut, but I had no idea it would be that much.”
Bucky let out a long, low whistle. “If that’s their finder’s fee, I can’t imagine what the final sale was for.”
You were furiously copying down the depositing account’s information. “I’m going to send this info back to Nat,” you told him. “See if they can reverse-search it and find out where the money came from. Once we know the source, we might be able to break into their systems, get info on who won the auctions. Maybe some of the other girls are still alive…” Your voice trailed off. You were too jaded to allow yourself to hope you could save all of them, but if you could save even one…
Bucky began moving toward the apartment’s front door, grabbing his leather jacket from where he’d hung it on a hook.
“Where are we going?” You asked him, closing your laptop and standing up.
“We aren’t going anywhere,” he informed you as he put the jacket on. “I’m going to go have a little chat with Chloe’s stepfather, see if there’s any additional information he’d like to generously offer us. You are going to stay here, locked securely behind the door and not opening it for any reason until I get back.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but the images of Jade moving through the Hydra compound, slaughtering everyone in her path rose to your mind. You nodded. “Yeah,” you said. “I’ll stay here.”
“Thank you.” Bucky released a relieved sigh, then walked over to you, kissing the top of your head. “If anything happens, call me, and I’ll head straight back. If Carthage shows up, there’s a gun in the bedside table. Aim to kill.”
“Obviously,” you told him. “I’ve only been fantasizing about it since I found out about Russia.”
“I’m being serious, doll,” Bucky said. “Now that we’ve seen what she’s capable of, I don’t want you taking any chances.”
“Yeah,” you said as you walked him to the door and opened it for him, “I was being 100% serious, too.”
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I might not do anything with this BUT I've been thinking about the Shadow of Mordor games again and how FUN would it be if Sauron did that but instead of bringing back Celebrimbor he uses his necromancy magic to bring back Maedhros
An imposingly tall figure, all done up in Sauron's spikey black armor, instead of his mace there is a wicked black blade where a right hand should be. He roams at the front of the Nazgul, blade at the ready as the other holds the reigns to a monstrous horse
People are terrified, thinking that Sauron himself is roaming the wilds, he stalks the Fellowship, nothing seems to stop him only delay him. Gandalf isn't sure its Sauron himself, but something about him under all that twisted and dark and evil song sings pure, like a dull flicker of white flame, like a weak candle.
When Boromir dies, that figure is with the orcs, it isnt the one to slay Boromir, but turns away and it seems to know where the ring is. The orcs are too focused on Merry and Pipin to follow the Figure, but he walks off. He stands on the shores as Frodo and Sam shiver in the Swan boat, but it does nothing but watch them as they sail off. It makes no motion to follow them or attack their small boat, just watch transfixed. Sam makes a comment that it looks like the Figure's armor makes it almost like it has a metal collar around its neck and cuffs on its wrists
During the battle of Helm's Deep, that Figure is back again, silently leading the siege. At one point, an Elven arrow hits the Figure's helm, knocking it a little loose and from under the helm tumbles a single red lock of hair. Its so red that almost looks like a smoldering flame. Haldir, who lives with the survivors of Doriath, sees that red hair, that tall stature, the handless right wrist and pales. While he wasn't there to witness the destruction of Doriath, he has heard the tales, he knows about the red haired monster that haunts the memories of the Sindar, and he knows what that Figure is capable of. Luckily, that Figure manages to catch a glimpse of Aragorn, and Freezes once again, a single stone that cuts through the rushing current of orcs all around him. Haldir doesn't see it again, but then again, Haldir doesn't see much of anything again.
(The Figure sees Gandalf on the hill, arriving with the dawn and reinforcments and it grieves, something in it breaks all over again but the magic puppeting its moves doesn't allow it to dwell. The helm is readjusted and the hair is tucked away and the Figure turns and leaves the battlefield. Its being summonded somewhere else.)
The war rages on, the Witch King is dead, but so is King Theoden. The Figure is trapped, the right wrist is pinned under the corpse of an oliphant and Elrond's sons watch as the Figure struggles before lying still. It's clearly not dead, but realizing it's trapped.
Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli join the twins. Gimli offers to thrust his axe in its chest, Legolas insists that he can shoot through its eye from a safer distance. Aragorn, who heard Haldir's frantic pleas during his final moments, just observes the Figure.
He notices the strange collar, how it clearly has cuffs on its wrist and feet, like it used to be shackled and chained.
"Can you speak?" He asks it.
The Figure does nothing but turn its helm towards Aragorn. They stare at each other for a few tense moments.
One of the twins, Aragorn still isn't fully sure which one, approches the Figure slowly. The Figure's helm is still directed at Aragorn.
"It feels familiar." The one twin whispers, voice raw from exertion. "It has a fea, it feels warm."
"Like uncle Erestor. Or Lindir." The other twin agrees.
The Figure turns its helm towards the twins at the mention of Erestor. The twin closest to the Figure, quick as an adder, jabs a polearm at the Figure's helm.
It snaps back, the helm tumbling off the Figure's head and those smoldering red locks fan out around the head, obscuring the face from view.
Even without seeing the face it's clearly an Elf. An abused one at that if one just looks at the notches missing from it's pointed ears. The polearm is back, nudging under where a chin should be to lift the face.
First, all that is seen is scars. So many that pull the once handsome face, for even under all its marring one can tell from the bone structure that this was a face that could launch a thousand ships, into a grotesque manner. But it is the eyes, the eyes that makes everyone suck in a breath.
These eyes glow, they glow with power, with light never been seen before, or well, haven't been seen in Ages. These grey eyes glow with the reflected light of the Two Trees, long since felled.
"Oh, Maitimo," Gandalf, who had wandered up the the group, sighed with tremendous sorrow. "What has become of you?"
Maitimo, or Maedhros as those in the Third Age know him as, tries to speak. His lips move, which brings attention to the fact that they are loosely sewn together with a black cord that seems to pull and ooze blood, never letting the wounds heal. His voice croaks, dry with misuse, but he manages a sound, a breath, perphaps even a word. Each syllable like a dying wheeze. He repeats the sound, again and again, almost becoming frantic with his wheezing chants, blood spilling down his chin from the threads, until it's understandable.
"Necromancer."
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