
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8235770.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage, Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Captain_America_(Movies), Kingsman_(Movies), Teen_Wolf_(TV), Dracula
      Untold_(2014), Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling, The_Bourne_Supremacy_(2004)
  Relationship:
      Brock_Rumlow/Sam_Wilson, James_"Bucky"_Barnes/Sam_Wilson, Riley/Sam
      Wilson, Harry_Hart/Sam_Wilson, Kirill_(Bourne)/Sam_Wilson
  Character:
      Sam_Wilson_(Marvel), Brock_Rumlow, James_"Bucky"_Barnes, Riley_(Captain
      America_movies), Steve_Rogers, Natasha_Romanov, Sam_is_not_all_she
      appears_to_be, Harry_Hart_|_Galahad, Kirill_(Bourne), Vlad_Tepes_(Dracula
      Untold), Stiles_Stilinski, Lydia_Martin, Allison_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Always_female_Sam_Wilson, sam_centric, different_scenarios, Sam_is_not_to
      be_trifled_with, Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Dubious_Consent, I_don't_think
      there_is_any_dubious_consent_in_chapter_6_but_I_will_still_tag_it,
      Possible_dubious_consent_in_chapter_6, Lil'_Sam_ain't_got_no_chill, Do
      not_mess_with_Harry_or_Sam, They_will_fuck_you_up, Sam_is_a_lil'
      spitfire, possessive_thoughts_and_behaviour, Bucky_wants_Sam_but_he_does
      not_want_to_hurt_her, unprotected_sex, always_wear_a_condom, Chapter_16
      dubious_body_touching, Thoughts_of_the_threat_of_rape, Chapter_16_might
      trigger_you_regarding_talk_of_rape, RAPE!!!_DO_NOT_READ_IF_THIS_TRIGGERS
      YOU!!!, Rape/Non-con_Elements, HEED_THE_FUCKING_WARNINGS!!!!, Rape_of
      child_by_father, RAPE_IN_CHAPTER_17!!!, THERE_IS_MARITAL_RAPE_IN_CHAPTER
      20!!!!!, In_Chapter_23_there_is_Past_non-consensual_medical_procedure
      done_on_a_sixteen_year_old_girl., In_Chapter_23_there_is_Mentions/
      thoughts/recollections_of_child_abuse., In_Chapter_23_there_is_Mentions/
      thoughts/recollections_of_attempt/demand_of_a_forced_abortion., Chapter
      24_contains_ATTEMPTED_RAPE_and_NON-CONSENSUAL_TOUCHING.
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-10-08 Updated: 2018-03-20 Chapters: 24/? Words: 96798
****** One Batch, Two Batch, Penny and Dime ******
by Jack_Wilder
Summary
     Sam discovers her husband is HYDRA the same time Steve and Natasha
     discovers Sam is married.
     This work is made up of drabbles; some of which are connected with
     each other and some that are entirely stand alone works.
Notes
     I haven't forgotten my other fics; I am currently writing new
     chapters for ALL of them. As long as I can share my work, I will
     NEVER abandon any of them if I can help it.
     This is a project concentrating on Sam/Bucky, Sam/Riley and Sam/Brock
     relationships or just Sam. Some of these drabbles may be explored and
     developed into longer fics (if I can find the time to do so). In
     addition, it's all female-Sam.
     If you watch Netflix: Daredevil, you will know where the title of
     this fic comes from. It's something that I heard and has stuck with
     me.
     I have no idea how the ratings of this fic will change as I add
     chapters, so I will play it safe and leave it at 'mature' for now,
     but most of what I have written so far is pretty tame.
     I hope that you enjoy it!! :)
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please
     to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
***** Life’s A Bitch (Sam/Brock). *****
"Well, well, long time no see, Sammy girl."
Sam stared, her eyes wide and face pale at the man sitting before her, bruised
and cut up, but that ever present cocky smirk (which she used to love) was
plastered on his face as he looked her up and down slowly.
"You're looking real good Sam." Brock winked at her, but Sam was still in a
severe state of shock.
"Do you two know each other?" Natasha asked, her eyes boring into Sam, same as
Steve's. 
Sam swallowed before answering, her throat dry as she stared at the man she had
married at the tender age of eighteen, only to walk out on him ten years later,
in order to save what was left of her sanity (Riley, God rest his soul, had
always asked her why she married him). And here they had come full circle ten
years later; the platinum wedding band on the chain around her neck, which she
wore under her shirt, was burning a hole through her chest right next to
Riley's dog tags. 
"Yeah, you could say that." Her voice was raspy as if she had been screaming,
and she had on the inside, since she set foot in that fucking interrogation
room. Her only consolation was the fact that Brock looked just as surprised at
seeing her.
"Of course we know each other." The smile on Brock's face was malicious, and
Sam could feel her world shattering around her. "We shared a marriage bed,
isn't that right Mrs. Brock Rumlow?"
It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room; Sam felt three pairs of
eyes on her and she wondered if they could hear how loud her heart was beating.
She didn't think as she turned and hightailed it out of the interrogation room.
"You got a lot of explaining to do Sam!" Brock's voice followed her, Steve was
close behind her and the sound of Natasha's fist colliding with Brock's jaw
echoed behind her, as she ran to escape the past that had finally caught up
with her.
 
***** The Devil In Me (Sam/Riley). *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam isn't all what she appears to be.
Chapter Notes
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistakes,
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
Sam loved it when people underestimated, especially her enemies, because she
wasn't super-soldier, had a billion dollar amour protecting her, a god from
Norse mythology, a super-trained spy, and a master assassin or turned into an
indestructible being. Even her friends sometimes treated her as if she was
fragile and not a trained Air Force Pararescue. 
No, what Sam is, is much more powerful than her team-mates could ever be.
You know the saying, 'be careful the Murdock boys. They got the devil in them.'
Well Sam had the devil in her, and not in a figurative way, but in the literal
sense. 
Samantha Toni Wilson was a devil in disguise and the only person who knew her
secret was the one person she could not save as he felt from the sky, like a
fallen angel; that was the first and last time she prayed to a God she had long
ago turned her back on.
Sam watched as Riley was hit by an RPG and started falling.
She dove after him; pulling back her metal government issued wings so as to go
faster, dodging his wings as they broke off due to the wind pressure and his
parachute could not be deployed due to the damaged sustained to the jet-pack.
Not that any of that mattered, Sam could see the life fading from Riley's eyes
as he fell beyond her reach.
She knew that she couldn't save him and she would never allow him to sell his
soul, not even to her for the chance to live longer; but she could make sure
that he felt no pain, that he did not suffer.
"Dear God! Please take his soul!"
In that moment Riley's bright soul, left his body and ascended to Heaven above,
while Sam was still trying to catch the body of her already dead best-friend
which hit the hot desert sand with a solid thud, San landing beside it a few
seconds later.
She knelt there, looking at the bruised, massacred body of the first person she
had felt something for in over three millennia. 
The shock and grief she felt in that moment was suddenly overtaken by anger and
she released the entirety of her powers, decimating the enemy who had fired on
them. 
Sam carried Riley's lifeless body back to base, where her superiors were
baffled as to how there were no traces of their enemies, as if they had just
disappeared into thin air; more like burnt by hellfire but Sam decided to keep
that bit of information to herself. The official report said that the enemy was
wiped out by an air-raid, and Sam was sent home with an honourable discharge
(her superiors saw that dangerous glint in her eyes and thought it was best,
Sam thought so too), with a purple heart awarded to Riley, sitting in a velvet
box, clutched in her hands.
Once Riley was in the ground, back in his native home of Ireland, Sam made her
way, back across the Atlantic Ocean to make a home for herself in Washington,
D.C. where five years later a blond man who she could have outrun without
breaking a sweat came barrelling into her life, bringing a dangerous red head
and a thought to be dead, assassin best-friend with him and for the first time
in a long time, Sam had people she cared about again.
Her secret of being a devil, well that she kept to herself, making sure that
there was never a weak link in the sapphire and pearl amulet she has been
wearing since it was given to her a long time ago by powerful sorcerer by the
name of Halvir. He made the amulet to contain some of his power, in order to
conceal Sam's true appearance of black (tribal looking) markings on her skin,
pointed ears, sharp teeth, golden slit eyes, her claws and her midnight black
wings. She wore it under her shirts, making sure that it was never seen as she
did not want to answer questions about where she got it and why hide it.
However, just one day of not being careful made her secret come to light.
It was just another day at Avengers Tower; Sam was chasing Bucky around the
common room due to a prank he played on her. She had finally cornered him, not
realizing that her amulet had come free of her shirt and had gotten in the way
when she managed to grab him; it all happened in slow motion as Sam hand got
caught on the chain and broke it.
The room was silent as the pearls and sapphire pendant fell to the floor.
No one dared to breathe as they stared in shock and confusion at Sam's true
form.
Sam took a calming breath, bent over and started collecting the pieces of her
amulet. She stood up after completing her task and looked at the stunned faces
of her friends, silently relived that no one pulled any weapons on her as yet.
"So," her voice deep and echoing, "who wants to know the true story of Adam,
Eve and the snake?"
She smiled, sharp teeth on full display, there was a sharp intake of breath
from Bucky who had plastered himself along the wall and Sam felt a sick sense
of satisfaction of finally showing her friends that she was in fact the most
powerful being in the room.
***** Through Thine Eyes (Sam/Riley) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam's eyes are hers, but at the same time they are not hers.
Chapter Notes
     This chapter was inspired by my friend and her beautiful eyes.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please
     to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
Sam has emerald green eyes; she’s always receiving double takes and compliments
on how beautiful her eyes are.
She smiles and graciously accepts the compliments; while at the same time she
wants to scream because she cannot take another compliment on how
beautiful her green eyes are.
They are not green, jade, jungle green and the best she has ever heard moss
green. 
"I love your jade green eyes." Bucky whispers in her ear as he hugs her from
behind, meeting her eyes in their reflection in the mirror.
'They are emerald green. Get. It. Right.' She thinks.
"Thank you." She says instead.
What people don't know except for her mother, is that Sam was born blind. She
spent the first decade of her life in the dark, until Riley came in, shining so
bright, Sam swore she saw the sun in the darkness she was surrounded by day and
night.
"I wish I could see what you look like." Sam used to whisper to Riley, as she
stroked a hand down his face, mapping it and trying to picture what he looked
like in her mind.
"I wish I could give you your sight." Riley would whisper back, before taking
her lips in the sweetest of kisses and making her forget that she could not
see. 
Riley died in a car accident. 
Sam was heartbroken.
However, what people don't know is that Riley gave his eyes to Sam, so that she
may see what he saw and so much more. 
Sam wanted to hate Riley for doing something like that; knowing that she would
not want them because it would be accepting that her best-friend, love of her
life, husband was dead and not coming back; but at the same time, knowing that
she would accept them, if only to keep a piece of him alive.
Sam woke up to bright light streaming into her hospital
room, white fluffy clouds in blue skies. Looking in the mirror, she saw emerald
green eyes staring back at her, she saw Riley staring back at her and wept. 
Sam loves her eyes because they belonged to Riley and a piece of her best-
friend is still alive and not buried in a Mahogany casket, six feet under.
Sam hates her eyes because her best-friend had to die for her to see the world,
where there is so much ugliness she would rather be blind again.
Sam has emerald green eyes. Get. it. Right.
 
***** Angel (Devil) In Disguise (Sam) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam may look and behave like an Angel but she is one badass Devil.
     Natasha begins to suspect that something is not right with Sam.
Chapter Notes
     This was the idea that started this whole fic of drabbles.
     In addition, this is a sequel to another fic I am writing, and a
     prequel to "The Devil In Me."
     I hope that you can all understand the fighting scene. I tried to
     describe it as best as I could.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please
     to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
Sam was in the training room hitting and kicking a punching bag, feeling very
irritated that she had to be pulling her punches, when by now the bag would
have been nothing but rags that once contained sand if she had been able to use
her full strength. Sam had been feeling irritated as of late, or to be more
specific, since the day Steve and Bucky almost discovered her well-kept secret.
Since that day, Sam had been a bit paranoid, checking and rechecking to make
sure her amulet was in top shape, not the slightest dent in any of the links
and that had been grating on her nerves. In all the years Sam had spent on
earth, she had never been this worried about someone finding out about her true
nature; hell she had revealed herself to Riley in order to save both their
lives from insurgents that had taken them hostage and were intent on beheading
them, and knew that without a second thought, she would have killed him if he
had ever tried to hurt her or expose her for what she really was, but he
didn't. Riley had been more in awe that beings like her had existed and to
learn that not all actual monsters were in fact scary and evil as he was told
as a child in order to him to eat his peas and go to bed when told. 
He had been like a kid in a candy store after that, constantly asking her
questions about her true nature and where she came from; questions that Sam did
not get tired of answering and was more than happy to share this huge part of
her life with someone apart from Halvir.  
Her skin felt tight and itchy; she wanted a reason to at least use some of her
true potential, to show her team mates that she could best them, so as not to
underestimate her because she looked "human".
*Punch, punch, kick*
Halvir had gone returned home two days ago, so Sam had traveled to New York, to
stay with her team for a bit, not wanting to be alone in her big empty house.
*Jab, roundhouse kick, elbow, palm, punch
Sam was so lost in her head that she failed to reign in her strength and
accidentally burst the punching bag. She watched dispassionately as the sand
fell out of the bag like an hour glass.  
"Damn." 
Sam spun around to see Natasha watching her, a smirk on her blood red lips and
Sam had the sudden desire to wipe that infuriating smirk off her lips and and
to replace the red lipstick with actual blood. 
Clenching her fists, Sam tamped down on that sudden blood thirsty rage that had
been creeping up her spine. And that was it; She hadn't let loose in quite
sometime, and the dark side of her was screaming to be let out.
"Yeah, got some pent up energy I need to work off." The lie fell easy from her
lips and that was something else, no one, not even the famed Black Widow could
tell when she was lying; not that Sam was a pathological liar, but she she
lied, well no one knew. 
"How about we spar?" Natasha offered, "I sure it would be better that an
inanimate object that can't fight back."
Sam thought about it and shrugged, getting into a fighting stance, she made a
'bring it' gesture towards Natasha who smiled deviously and charged at her. 
If it were any other day and Sam was not feeling constricted in her human-like
appearance, she would have allowed Natasha's foot to connect with her rib cage,
but Sam was done playing nice and decided to let a bit of her true self show.
"What the fuck?" Natasha skidded to stop, looking at where Sam was a few
seconds before. She spun around sharply in time to see Sam land gracefully on
her feet.
"I knew those fifteen years of competitive gymnastics would pay off." The lie
fell easily from Sam's lips again and she grinned when Natasha narrowed her
eyes dangerously.
"Everyone's lucky the first time."
Sam arched an eyebrow, "you sure 'bout that?"
For the next fifteen minutes, there were kicks, punches, jabs, and everything
Natasha had in her arsenal of hand-to-hand combat which she threw at Sam, who
had yet to break a sweat. The two women, caught up in what they were doing,
were unaware that they had garnered an audience.
"I've never seen Sam fight like that." Steve said.
"Fight?" Bucky echoed, "I have never seen her move like that. Hell
I didn't knew she could move like that."
Natasha was getting frustrated, she hadn't been able to land a punch on Sam,
while Sam landed many.
"Do you, do you get the feeling Sam's playing with Nat?" Bucky's eyes were
glued to the two women.
"Playing with her, just like a predator plays with its food before eating it."
Steve said and it struck him strange to make such a comparison.
"Come on Tasha! It's as if you're not even trying!" Sam was having fun, goading
Natasha and seeing the indifference fall away to give rise to frustration.
"Bitch." Natasha spat, before running at Sam again, who merely waited until her
opponent was close enough, before launching herself off the floor and flipping
herself over Natasha. In mid-air, while upside-down, Sam placed both her hands
on Natasha'a shoulders and gave her a gentle shove, kicking her in the back to
send her sprawling on her stomach before Sam once again landed gracefully on
her feet. 
Sam turned and looked at the stunned assassin, still on the floor.
"I think that's enough for today. Thank for the fight, we should do it again."
With that said, Sam walked off to the shower room, leaving a stunned Bucky and
Steve and a perturbed Natasha staring at her.
"Ok, let me say that this is not me being a sore loser but, something's not
right with Sam."
Bucky looked at her, "is anything right with any of us?"
 
***** I'ma Be All up On her (Sam/Bucky) *****
Chapter Summary
     It is now legal for interracial couples to be together.
Chapter Notes
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please
     to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     I hope y'all like this new chapter.
As Sam walked away to make a phone call to her 'mysterious' guy, Steve saw
Bucky looked her up and down slowly.
"Really Buck? You just tried to kill her not an hour ago, for the third time
and now you're looking at her as if you want to eat her."
Bucky looked unrepentant, "it would be a great story to tell our grand-kids of
how we met."
Steve looked heaven-ward as if praying for patience, "yeah, you're definitely
you."
Sam walked over to stand by Steve and Bucky, sniper eyes focused on her with an
intensity that was palpable.
"Ok," she said drawing out the two letters, "Scott said that he's in and Clint
is picking up both him and Wanda; in the meantime we just have to get tin can
out of this trap."
"Tin Can?" Bucky was offended, "excuse you but I am the world's deadliest
assassin." 
"Huh uh." Sam was not in the least impressed.
Bucky looked at Steve who raised his hands and backed away.
"I am not getting in the middle of this."
"Middle of what?" Sam questioned looking between the two reunited best-friends.
"Sam, be the great person that you are and get him out of that vise-grip, I
have a call to make." Steve walked away, not wanting be caught in the crossfire
when Sam throttles Bucky for ripping the steering wheel out of her hands,
throwing her across the room by her face and most important, destroying her
wings then trying to flirt with her. He wondered if he should be planning his
friend's funeral after just getting him back.
Sam was busy undoing the vise-grip that was holding Bucky captive; she had
tightened it as much as she could, without damaging his arm. She had seen the
look he gave her and was doing her best to ignore him, even with how close she
was standing to him, while he was still seated, in perfect line with her waist.
"So, how ya' doin'?"
Sam paused in what she was doing to look at Bucky.
"I would be great if I didn't have almost every country's authorities after my
ass."
Bucky simply grinned, "well you do have a great ass."
"You did not just say that."
"A great ass along with many more great assets." Sam felt as if she was slowly
being stripped naked as Bucky's eyes travelled slowly over her body as those
words left his mouth.
"Annnnd, we're done here." Bucky's metal arm was now free and he stood up,
towering over Sam's petite 5'1" frame with his impressive height and bulk from
his super-soldier muscles. 
"Thank you."
Sam has no idea why those two innocent words sent a thrill of heat down her
spine. Maybe it was the way he said it, low and husky or the fact that his eyes
were half lidded with lust swimming in the depths of them. All she knew is that
she had to get as far away as possible from the predator before her, because
this was some dangerous territory that Sam was not going to touch with a ten
foot pole.
"You're welcome." she managed to get out before beating a hasty retreat back to
Steve's side, ignoring the look he gave her when she decided to basically
plaster herself along his side.
===============================================================================
Sam could not believe her fucking luck. Steve had left her alone in the small
ass car he had stolen to go meet with Sharon and she sat in the front seat,
trying to set him on fire with her glare, while at the same time trying to
ignore the stare of the man sitting behind her.
"Can you move you seat up?"
With that one question, Sam remembered all the shit Bucky had put her through
and felt maliciously vindictive.
"No."
The car rocked a little and Sam glanced out of the corner of her eye to see
that Bucky had moved to the other side of the backseat.
"Why are you sitting in the passenger seat, when you are so tiny? I should be
sitting up there and you could sit in my lap."
Sam gritted her teeth and get her head straight, not giving in and telling
Bucky exactly what on him was tiny.
"Seriously, you what, 5'0"? You're so tiny I could just pick you up with one
hand and throw you over my shoulder."
'Don't kill him Steve will be sad.' Sam repeated this mantra in her head, doing
her best to ignore Bucky, but he would not give up.
"I know, since you're so tiny and you can fly, I'm going to call you Tinker
Bell."
That was the final straw, Sam turned around and launched herself at Bucky,
catching him off guard. She grabbed him by the collar of his red henley and
banged his head off the side of the interior of the car.
"Call me Tinker Bell, go ahead, I dare you." She growled in his face.
Bucky unfazed by Sam's threat, slid his hands up to grasp her waist and that is
the exact moment it hit Sam that they were in a very compromising position. By
allowing Bucky to get under her skin, Sam had managed to literally flip over
the two front seats into the tight space that was the back seat, straddle
Bucky's toned, thick thighs and proceeded to threaten the Winter Soldier.
Bucky made that 'devil-may-care' smile and his steel blue eyes says all that
his mouth wasn't saying and Sam felt her skin run hot from the tension mounting
between them in the small space of that equally small car. She could feel
herself falling deeper and deeper into those blue eyes, and could see that
Bucky was getting closer to her as well; however the sound of a car trunk being
shut close by, caused Sam to jump back and scramble back to the front seat just
in time for Steve to stick his head through the driver's side window.
"Hey Sam, your wings are right over there if you-" Sam was out of the car in an
instant,” want to go look at your wings."
"What's with her?" Steve looked at Sam, who grabbed her wings and walked a
short distance from the car (and Bucky) to crouch behind a pillar where she
could have some semblance of privacy. 
He turned to look at his friend whose eyes had a predatory look in them as he
too watched Sam until she disappeared from view.
"What did you do Bucky?"
Bucky in turn gave Steve his puppy dog eyes, "nothing. Yet."
"Bucky." Steve said in a warning voice.
"Did you know that it's now legal for black and white individuals to be in
relationships with each other?"
Steve sighed exasperatedly, "yes, Buck."
"I am going to be all up on her."
"Yeah, I am going to be burying you in the near future." Steve commented as he
walked to way Sam was hiding away.
 
***** Sensitivity (Sam/Bucky) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam is extremely sensitive; Bucky takes full advantage of that.
Chapter Notes
     Y'all know the drill: All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you
     see any mistake please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     I hope y'all like this new chapter.
     Possible DUBIOUS CONSENT in this chapter. You have all been warned.
The first time it happened Bucky thought nothing of it; it was an accident, a
simple bumping into his friend after a mission that left them all haggard and
stumbling. He figured that he had irritated some of her wounds and quickly
apologised, making sure to put some distance between them.
The second time it happened though, that is when he knew something was up.
Sam was in the kitchen of her home, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking
coffee and reading the morning newspaper. Bucky entered the kitchen, still more
than half asleep and made a beeline directly towards the coffee maker. He
poured a cup of coffee and spun around looking for the milk when he spotted it
through barely opened eyes, on the table to Sam's left.
Sam had her hands folded on the table to brace herself as she read the
newspaper and Bucky without thinking of asking Sam to give him the milk,
decided to stretch across her. Only in his sleepy state, he was unable to
calculate their proximity to each other and accidentally brushed against her
breasts and Sam moaned, in pleasure.
Both Sam and Bucky froze; Sam in horror and Bucky in confusion.
"I'm sorry?" It came out as a question, instead of a statement.
"Th-that's ok." 
Bucky had never seen Sam move that fast before without her wings; Sam was
already out the door and in her car, driving off down the road to work. He was
so confused by the incident that he spent the rest of the day on Google and
what he found made his eyebrows almost touch his hairline. Bucky wanting to
know if what he read was true, decided to conduct an experiment and so he was
ready for Sam the next time he saw her which was that night when she got home
from work.
Everyone knew that Bucky was a very tactile person, he was before the war and
even more so after H.Y.D.R.A., so Sam thought nothing of it when he greeted her
with a hug after a long day of work. She thought nothing about the way Bucky's
entire front was plastered to hers, how he wrapped his strong arms around her
and squeezed her petite body to his. She thought nothing about it because she
was concentrating very hard on not moaning like a whore in a whore house from
the way her breasts were being pressed against his toned chest, creating a very
delicious feeling in her body. 
Sam felt like fire was coursing through her veins from the sensations going off
in her body, especially in a certain sweet spot and had to squeeze her legs
together to ease the sensation before she embarrassed herself.
"Good to see you too Buck." Her words were muffled from where they were said
into his shoulder and Sam raised her hands to his rib cage giving him one final
squeeze and then a gentle tap to signal that the hug needed to come to an end
so that she could escape to the privacy of her room.
Bucky, knowing exactly what he was doing to her, wrapped his arms even tighter
around her small frame, before releasing her and as he stepped away from he,
giving her space, his hands trailed from her upper back, under her arms and
across her rib cage where they definitely grazed the sides of her breasts and
Sam almost jumped out of her skin.
"Are you ok?" Bucky looked the picture of innocent, concern for Sam coating his
words.
While Sam looked about ready to bolt, "I'm fine." 
"Ok, well good night." Bucky released her and watched as she all but hauled ass
up the stairs and her bedroom door slammed shut so hard, that the picture
frames on the wall downstairs shook.
"This is going to be very interesting." Bucky said to himself, thinking of
different ways of coming into physical contact with Sam that would not be too
obvious that he knew about her oh so exploitable secret.
===============================================================================
Over the course of the next few weeks Bucky would accidentally brush, bump,
graze, or make some sort of physical contact with Sam, particularly in her
chest area and Sam was at her wits end. She was continuously horny and getting
herself off with her toys was just not cutting it anymore. She need something
harder, firmer and preferably attached to Bucky, but that is something she
would be keeping to herself. He was just in his first year of healing and while
he had come a long way, she still felt as though she would be taking advantage
of him if she should pursue something more than just friendship, for heaven's
sake, he was already living in her home at his and Steve's insistence and
that's because they both have enormous trust in her and she would never do
anything to jeopardise that.
However, it all came to a head one day after a mission. 
Bucky had jumped from the top of a building and Sam had to catch him. That
meant she had his back pressed against her chest while he shot down enemy after
enemy from the sky. That would have been ok, if not for every shot he fired
didn't vibrate through him right to her breasts. Sam had to gritted her teeth
and tighten her arms around him so as not to drop him. 
Now, that would have been ok, if it had ended when Sam had touched down on the
ground and released her hold on Bucky, but that god damn super-soldier had
other ideas.
"Thanks Sam," Bucky spun around as soon as he was back on solid ground and
hugged Sam, who just like bad luck had already turned around and was walking
away, causing Bucky's arms to wrap around her, trapping her arms at her sides.
With nowhere to go, Sam was trapped in a hug that soon turned deadly for her;
see Bucky's arms were wrapped around her, but his hands cupped her breasts and
without thinking he squeezed and Sam, well she moaned.
Both friends froze in the embrace before Sam broke it and whirled around on
Bucky, pupils dilated with lust swimming in them and shame burning her cheeks.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" She hissed, wrapping her arms
across her chest, as if that would erased what just transpired.
Bucky tried to play the innocent card, "nothing, I was just hugging you. I
didn't know you were injured."
"Oh fuck you Barnes." She spat.
'No there's an idea.' He thought.
"You were not just 'hugging' me and you know that I am not injured. What the
hell are you playing at?"
Bucky realised that the situation had started taking a turn for the worse and
tried to rectify it.
"Nothing! Sam, I-" but pulled up short when Sam got into his face and he was
continuously amazed that such a small person could be so frightening when she
was angry.
"You were just what Barnes? Trying to cop a feel? That's all you have been
doing these past weeks, but it ends now. Go ahead, have a good squeeze." Sam
spread her arms as if offering herself up for a sacrifice and Bucky could not
help but look at her breasts that her flight uniform did nothing to hide. 
When Bucky did not move, Sam lowered her arms.
"I thought so." She walked passed him, making sure to bump into his shoulder.
"Sam, it's not-"
"Fuck off Barnes."
===============================================================================
 
That evening as the Avengers had downtime in the Avengers Tower, Sam was in her
apartment when a knock sounded on her door.
"Who's it." She called out from her position on the couch, not wanting to be
bothered.
"It's me."
Sam let her open book fall on her face; the frustration and irritation she
thought she had washed away with her hot shower came flooding back.
"Go away!"
"Sam, please, just let me explain."
She shot up off the couch at those words, the thick carpet muffling the sound
of her bare feet as she furiously walked towards the door and ripped it open to
a stunned Bucky.
"Explain? You want to explain, why the better part of three weeks, you
basically sexually harassed me?! When here I thought, if I made a move on you,
I would be taking advantage of you when it was the other way around!"
"You wanted to make a move on me?" That was the only thing Bucky heard and
Sam's glare would have melted him if he were a lesser man.
"You took advantage of the fact that I allowed you to be physical with me!"
"I know and I am so sorry! But, please just hear me out." Bucky begged and Sam
stared hard at him.
He was about to get down on his knees and beg when Sam huffed out an annoyed
breath and turned away from the door, walking back into her apartment and
straight to the kitchen.
"Ok," she got out a bottle of tequila and took a healthy drink from it,
"explain why you have been sexually harassing me."
"Ok, the first and second times were complete accidents."
Sam raised an eyebrow, "and the times after that?"
"Well," Bucky scratched the back of his neck and actually looked bashful, "at
first it started out as an experiment."
"An experiment for what?"
Bucky swallowed, knowing that Sam was either going to maim him or kill him at
his next words.
"An experiment to see if your breasts really were as sensitive as they seemed."
"What?!" Sam started, startling Bucky who began speaking faster in hopes that
he would not die just yet.
"I swear, I was not trying to be a pervert or sexually harass you! I just
wanted to prove my theory right."
There was a ringing silence which settle over the kitchen.
"Barnes."
Bucky flinched at the sudden sound.
"Yes?" He asked timidly.
"Run."
That was all the warning he got before launched herself over the Kitchen
Island, and Bucky had the insane thought of hos such a small person could do
something like that before he turned tail and ran into the living room.
"I am going to murder you Barnes!" Sam roared behind him as she chased after
him. "I am going to destroy you! There will be nothing left of you!"
"Sam! I know you're mad but remember that Steve will be sad if you killed me!"
"He would get over it as soon as he found out why you died!"
Bucky didn't know if it was righteous fury fuelling Sam's body why she was able
to keep up with him as he ran for his life through her apartment. It must have
been the experience of flying, why Sam knew just how to slam her tiny body into
his, taking him down hard to the floor.
She flipped him over onto his back and slapped him, open palm across his face.
"You asshole!"
"Sam-"
*Slap!*
"Sam just-"
*Slap!*
Bucky had had enough of being slapped and reversed their positions; with Sam on
her back and her legs wrapped around his waist.
"Sam! Quit it!" He grabbed her flailing hands by her wrists and tried to pin
them down.
"No!"
Thinking fast, Bucky did the only thing that would not calm Sam down, but at
least get her out of a range. He quickly let go of her wrists and shoved his
hands under her over-sized t-shirt, grabbing both her breast and squeezing
them. Sam's reaction was instantaneous; she stopped fighting Bucky, only to
moan and buck up into him.
"Sh-shit, Bucky."
Now, Bucky had only heard Sam moan, but hearing her say his name in that
breathy, lust filled voice, made his blood sing and he squeezed his treasure
again. This time, rolling her nipples between his fingers until they were
hard. 
"Ahh!" Sam threw her head back and arched up into Bucky, her legs tightening
around his waist pressing her sweet spot to his very impressive and very
hard manhood. 
"Fuck, Sam, you like that?" Bucky was hard from the moment he touched Sam and
he had no idea that her reactions and sounds would affect him so much, he
needed to get his mouth on her. He shoved her shirt up and over her head,
throwing it in some dark corner and and descended on her breasts.
"Bucky!" Sam screamed his name, her hands flying up to grab his hair and t-
shirt. She gripped his hair and held him close as his lips, tongue and teeth
assaulted her breasts one after the other, alternating, giving them both the
same amount of attention.
Sam said his name like a prayer; chanting it, her grip on his hair borderline
painful and there were a few rips in his shirt from where she gripped him.
That's when he realized what was happening and released her nipple, pushing
himself up on his elbows so that he could look at her and grinned wickedly when
she whined at the loss of his warm wet mouth. 
"Are you going to come?" He taunted, "are you going to come with just my mouth
sucking on your breasts Sam?"
Sam's pupils were blown wide, her chest was heaving and her breasts looked
good, naked with Bucky's saliva on them, cooling in the air and making her
nipples even harder. She was a sight to behold and Bucky could not hold back
any longer.
"You're going to come just like this; with my mouth on your breasts, nothing
more."
Sam whimpered and gave herself over to the sweet assault, falling over the
cliff as Bucky held tight to her.
As she regained her breath, Bucky sat up on his knees and stripped off his
shirt and looked her straight in her eyes; wicked grin on his lips and the
devil in his eyes.
"I hope you're ready for more, because I am not letting you go after this." He
flicked her sensitive nipple and making sure her legs were wrapped tightly
around his waist, Bucky stood up and walked towards her bedroom, where he made
her scream herself hoarse and oversensitive for the rest of the night and for
many more nights after that. 
***** If We Ever Meet Again (Sam) *****
Chapter Summary
     I swear, I've seen your face before.
Chapter Notes
     Takes place in the Devil-Sam Series, before her secret is revealed.
     Prequel to "The Devil in Me" and "Angel (Devil) in Disguise"
     Song: "If We Ever Meet Again" by Timberland ft. Katy Perry
     Y'all know the drill, if you see any errors, GENTLY and POLITELY
     point them out to me.
     I hope you all like and enjoy this chapter!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sam was going to murder the asshole who was banging down her front door at 6:48
A.M. on a Saturday morning. She had had a long stressful week at work, and she
had just wanted to sleep in and hide away for the day. However, some asshole
had other plans and she was going to tear their throat open with her claws.
"You cocksucking ass-Halvir?!" Sam's eyes widened as she looked at her friend
of over a millennia of years.
"Wow, if that's how you greet friends, I would not like to know how you greet
your enemies." Halvir grinned down at her from his 6'0" height, his blue eyes
sparkling with joy and magic and his jet black hair was in its natural curly
form at neck length.
Sam jumped on him, causing him to drop his bag as she wrapped her legs around
his waist and his arms came to wrap around her back in a tight hug.
"I missed you so much Sam." he whispered in her hair.
"Me too." She whispered back, as she held her dear friend close to her.
===============================================================================
"Ok, not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
Sam was currently cooking breakfast for the both of them, while Halvir was busy
swiping through the pictures on her phone.
"Can't I just come and visit my oldest friend?"
He didn't have to look at her to know the 'don't bullshit me' look she was
giving him.
Sighing he put down the phone and gave her his undivided attention.
"The kids are alright. I swear, I just wanted to come and visit you, no
ulterior motives here." 
"Ok. And you're sure the kids are alright?" Sam knew it had been a long time
since she had seen the kids, but she received weekly updates on them from
Halvir.
"Yes, they are. They are conquering the world and they miss you."
"I need to visit them soon." Sam said guiltily. "I feel as if I have neglected
them."
Halvir stood up and walked around the kitchen island, stopping in front of Sam
and drawing her into a hug.
"Don't be like that, they know that you are very busy right now, but don't ever
doubt that they think you neglecting them. They know that you love them; hell,
you razed a town to the ground for them, if that doesn't say 'I love you,' I
don't know what does."
Sam smiled, remembering the hell week she went through when they went missing.
She knew that she would have lost her mind if not for Halvir standing right
beside her all those years ago during her frantic search.
"Yeah, I know. I will visit them as soon as I can."
"Great." Halvir released her and went to set the breakfast table. "Now, with
that out of the way, care to tell me how Steve and Bucky have not recognized
you as yet?" 
Sam stopped in her tracks and looked at Halvir.
"I have no fucking idea."
1941
The music in the bar was great and what was even better was that no one had
given her or Halvir a second glance.
Since setting foot on American soil, especially in certain states they were met
with hostility due to Sam's skin colour and the fact that they all thought
Halvir was her husband.
But here in Brooklyn, no one cared and everyone welcomed them. 
Sam sat at the bar, waiting for Halvir to return from the restroom when she
felt someone take a seat beside her.
"What's a beautiful lady like you sitting all by her lonesome?"
Sam turned to face the smooth voice who spoke to her and found herself staring
in extremely beautiful, hypnotizing eyes, with a gorgeous face.
She raised an eyebrow, "and who says I'm alone?"
The beautiful stranger glanced around and looked back at her, "I don't see any
man rushing over to claim you."
She laughed at that, "oh, honey, no man can every claim me."
"So, you do the claiming?" Sam did not miss the heat behind his words or the
lust in his steel blue eyes.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"You sure are something else, Miss?"
Sam stuck out her hand, "Abigail."
"Bucky." The gorgeous stranger introduced himself and shook her hands.
"Interesting name."
He grinned a mega-watt smile, "if you stick around long enough, I'll tell you
the story about how I got it."
Sam was about to reply when she saw Bucky's eyes widened slightly and felt a
presence and knew exactly who was standing behind her.
"Who's this darling?"
She grinned and leaned back into Halvir.
"Hal this is Bucky, he was keeping me company while you were busy."
Halvir stretched out his hand towards Bucky who shook it.
"Nice to meet you." He said pleasantly.
"I didn't mean any disrespect." Bucky started to explain but Halvir waved it
off. 
"It's ok. No harm, no foul."
Bucky relaxed, glad that he was not going to be punched for flirting with
another man's wife. 
"Your accent where are you-"
"Oi! Asshole say that again!"
All three heads whipped around to where the voice came from in the corner and
saw a crowd forming over there.
"Oh shit."
Sam looked at Bucky, "what?"
Bucky looked heavenward as if he was praying for strength.
"My friend is about to cause chaos."
"Should we go get him?" Hal questioned, not seeing who Bucky was talking about.
"Yeah, he's the short blonde spitfire. Just pick him up and run."
Sam, Halvir and Bucky got up and threw themselves into the fray. It took them
about two minutes to get Steve off of the man he was beating for calling
another young man a cocksucker and another three minutes to drag his scrawny
ass out of the bar and a few blocks down the street. 
"Who the hell are you?!" He asked Sam and Halvir when he had calmed down.
Bucky gave him an unimpressed look, "your mother is rolling in her grave from
your behaviour. This is Abigail and Hal."
"Nice to meet you."
"Pleasure."
Steve looked them up and down, "Bucky flirted with you didn't he?"
Sam laughed and Bucky groaned.
"Yeah, but he's a charming young man."
"Unlike you." Bucky interjected. "What was that all about?"
"That guy was in there throwing words at Matthew, I told him to apologise and
he laughed so I forced one out of him."
Sam and Halvir laughed at Steve's explanation.
Bucky dragged a hand down his face, "what the hell am I going to do with you?"
Steve looked at him, all soft corn-silk hair and bright blue eyes, "take me and
our new friends dancing?"
"Considering that my friend made such a unforgettable first impression, would
you both let us take you dancing and show you all that Brooklyn night life has
to offer?" Bucky asked.
Sam and Halvir looked at each other and shrugged.
"That sounds amazing."
The four new friends stayed in each other's company for the rest of the night,
dancing, eating, drinking and having fun; parting only when the sun had begun
to show itself.
===============================================================================
Sam remembered that fateful meeting as if it were yesterday and not 75 years
ago.
"So, what do you want to do?" She asked, taking a seat across from him to eat
breakfast.
"How do you feel about going out dancing?"
Sam grinned, "I have the perfect little black dress in my closet dying for a
night out."
===============================================================================
"Oh my God! I still can't believe the way fashion, music and dancing has
changed!" Halvir said as he and Sam stumbled down the side walk arm in
arm, from laughing too much. They had just left a club where they had fun
dancing and drinking for over three hours, not that they could get drunk.
"I know! That girl was practically naked! And the guy had on neon blue
eyeliner! I just can't deal at times!" Sam laughed and then hiccuped and the
two friends started laughing again.
"Hey, look!"
Sam looked in the direction, in which Halvir was pointing and saw a 24 hour ice
cream parlor.
She grinned "it's as if you read my mind." She steered him in the direction of
the ice cream shop across the road.
"Sam?"
The two friends froze and then slowly turned around to face Steve, Bucky and
Natasha.
'Well fucking hell.' She immediately opened up a telepathy channel between her
and Halvir, and they both felt each other's unease. She was immensely glad that
she was smart to tuck the end part of her necklace inside the neck of her dress
instead of having it hanging freely. She knows how humans are drawn to the
sight of the magic filled jewel.
"Hey Steve." Sam's voice sounded a bit hysterical to her ears. 
'Oh shit.' Halvir thought.
'It was one thing for Steve and Bucky not to remember me by myself, but what
the hell is going to happen with the two of us together?'
Bucky was looking between the two of them, his eyes then settled on Halvir with
the intensity of a sniper.
"Have we met before?"
Sam felt herself pale.
'Shit.' 
"I don't think so; this is my first time visiting America. My name is Owen." He
lied easily, while he was gripping Sam's hand tightly behind their bodies that
were plastered to each other's side to side. Something Bucky did not miss and
his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Where are you from? I can't place your accent." Bucky was like a dog with a
bone once he focused on something or someone.
Halvir cleared his throat, "Romania, but I spent some time in Wales. My accent
is a bit screwy."
'Ha! That's one way of putting it.' Sam was sweating bullets; she did not need
this, not now, not tonight. 
Bucky nodded, but now he was looking at Sam and then Halvir again.
"I can't figure it out, but I know I've seen your face before."
"Maybe it's from your time as the Winter Soldier?" Sam said and all eyes turned
to her and she swallowed. "You have been around for a long time Buck, may be
you met someone that looks like him, or maybe you both have crossed paths
before without knowing it."
"You did spend two years in Romania Bucky." Natasha said, though she was
looking at Sam and Halvir with suspicion in her eyes.
'Should I lie and say that I have not been in Romania for the last two years?'
'No! That will just raise more suspicion.' We need to leave. Now.'
"Yeah, that could be it."
Bucky nodded but he still looked doubtful.
Sam need to get out of there fast.
"Hey, it was great seeing you guys, but we have to go now." She started to turn
with Halvir, only to feel a large hand on her shoulder stopping her and it took
everything in her not to grab the offending hand and throw the owner of it over
her shoulder. 
She turned back around to find Steve staring hard at her.
"You know, now that Bucky has mentioned it, you do look oddly familiar Sam."
"Oh fuck you Steve. I am being serious." Bucky grumbled, folding his arms
across his chest and pouting like a toddler.
He glanced at Bucky, but his eyes were quickly back on Sam.
"I am being serious. The first time I saw you, I felt as though we had met a
long time ago."
Sam's heart was beating through her throat.
"Really Steve?" She said as sarcastically as she could. "Now you?"
He stared down into her deep brown eyes and Sam felt as if he was trying to
look into her soul which no longer existed.
"Have we met before?"
Time came to a halt for Sam.
"Yes, Steve, we have." Sam wanted to murder something or someone, "we met four
years ago, remember? You kept lapping me while I was jogging."
Steve shook his head, "did we meet each other, the four of us along time ago?" 
'Fuck. It. All. To. Hell. This can't be fucking happening!' Halvir was having a
meltdown and Sam was trying to figure out the best course of action.
She sighed and rolled her eyes good naturedly, when on the inside she was
setting the world on fire. 
'What the hell is wrong with these two assholes?!'  Sam raged in her head to
Halvir.
"Steve, sweetheart, honey bun, if we had met a long time ago, we," Sam waved
her hand at both herself and Halvir, "would be either real fucking old or dead.
Now maybe you're saying we look real good for two, 100 and odd years old human
beings, but I can tell you that the four of us have definitely never met each
other before." 
Halvir let go of Sam's hand which was more than likely deformed from how hard
he was squeezing it. 
"Brilliant!" He clapped his hands together, "now that we have met and gotten
the fact that we have never met out of the way ice cream is waiting for me and
Sam over there." He pointed across the road and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling her
away from her friends, with their curious eyes and even sharper minds.
"Ne mai vedem!" Halvir shouted.
"See you later guys!" Sam shouted as she jogged a little to keep up with
Halvir's rushed pace.
===============================================================================
"That did not just fucking happened." Halvir said, once he and Sam were safely
across the road and in the ice cream shop. 
Sam was glad that the ice cream shop was empty and the server was in the back
getting refills, because there were now two sets of finger indentations in the
counter.
"Shit! Sam your eyes."
She looked in the window and saw golden eyes staring back at her."
"I'm going to have to up the magic in these jewels," Halvir ran his fingers
along the necklace, "but in the meantime you have to breathe."
Sam closed her eyes, did as told and released the counter. When she opened her
eyes they were back to a normal dark brown and she let out a deep breath.
"They are not going to drop this until they get an answer."
Halvir looked at his friend, the defeat in her voice was evident on her face.
"What are you going to do when they do find out who and what you really are?"
"I'll tell you what I'm not going to do: I am not going to run. I
am not running again." She looked at him, tears in her eyes, threatening to
fall. "I don't care if they find out, but I am happy here; I am the happiest I
have ever been in my life."
"I know." Halvir took her into his arms and held her tightly to him, Sam
burying her face into his chest. "It's an odd group and super-soldiers
and Norse gods, if they can't handle having a devil in the group, well fuck
them, they don't deserve you."
Sam smiled, knowing that even if she lost her new friends, she would always
have Halvir.
"Ok." She stepped back and wiped her eyes.
"Now, time for ice cream."
The two friends turned to look at the menu board, putting their troubles behind
them for the time being, knowing that what may come, they would always have
each other.
===============================================================================
"Steve, I am not being paranoid, I swear that I have met them before." Bucky
crossed his arms and stared out at the lights of Manhattan. "I don't know
where, but I have this feeling that we knew them in another life time."
Steve sat on the couch, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, and his
hands clasped in front of him. 
"I hear you Buck, and I can't shake this feeling as well, but we both know that
if we met them back in Brooklyn, then they would not alive today, and even if
they were alive, they would not look so young."
Bucky looked over at Steve, and eyebrow raised, "look at us Steve."
Steve rolled his eyes, "we're an exception."
Bucky snorted and turned back to the window.
"Let's trust Sam and not make a mountain out of a mole hill. I'm sure if
something was up she'd tell us."
"Yeah, sure." Bucky muttered.
===============================================================================
5 months later
Steve watched as Sam chased Bucky around the room, refusing to help his friend
as he did warn him that Sam would kill him if he pranked her and as the saying
goes: 'those who don't hear must feel,' and Bucky was going to feel it
painfully.
He watched as Sam cornered Bucky.
He watched as Sam's necklace broke.
He watched...he watched as his other best friend transformed before his eyes.
The entire room went dead silent and Sam calmly picked up the pieces of her now
broken necklace.
He would never forget the sound of Sam's voice as she asked them if they wanted
to hear the real story of Adam, Eve and the snake. 
He would never forget the sharp grin on her face or the way Bucky was trying to
become one with the wall.
Bucky made eye contact with Steve, his eyes wide.
'Well shit.'
Chapter End Notes
     Halvir - Vlad from Dracula Untold. He's Sam's friend and currently
     lives in Switzerland.
     Google translate - "Ne mai vedem!" (see you around")
***** Monster (Sam/Bucky) *****
Chapter Summary
     Monsters don't cry. Do they?
Chapter Notes
     Y'all know the drill, if you see any errors, GENTLY and POLITELY
     point them out to me.
     I hope you all like and enjoy this chapter!
"So they took it well? They didn't try to run you out of town with pitch forks
and torches?"
"Ha ha, fuck you Halvir." Sam said good naturedly as she places a stack of
perfect round pancakes in the middle of the kitchen island. She was the
unofficial chef for the Avengers. Her friends all loved her cooking, especially
her breakfast food, especially her pancakes and she enjoyed cooking for them. 
"I'm happy for you. I can just imagine all the names Bucky and Tony have for
you."
Sam frowned, "actually I think Bucky's avoiding me."
"What makes you think that?"
"Well he won't make eye contact with me, he exits any room I may enter while
he's in it, he doesn't speak to me and he seems to try avoid being by himself
with me."
"Maybe he's still adjusting to knowing that you are a hundred times stronger
than him. That's a blow to any man's ego, just give him time."
As Halvir was speaking, Bucky walked into the kitchen and Sam's face lit up.
"Well speak of the devil." She joked and Bucky's head snapped up, his wide eyes
meeting hers for the first time since he learnt of her true nature.
"Bucky's there?"
"Yeah, I have to go. Talk to you later."
"Bye."
Sam disconnected the call and putting her phone in her back pocket, she walked
around the kitchen island to where Bucky was pouring out coffee and stopped at
a respectable distance from him.
"Hey long time no see." She smiled brightly at him and he briefly glanced at
her from the corner of his eye.
"Been busy." His tone short curt and clipped.
His way of answering bugged Sam but she let it slide off her back like water,
knowing everyone had their cranky days.
"Ok, so how about you relax now and have some delicious breakfast. I made
blueberry pancakes, your favourite."
The look Bucky gave Sam could have killed her, were she not immortal and had
faced down far more scarier opponents than the one standing in front of her so
stood her ground, body language still open and welcoming even though she had a
twisted feeling in her gut that a storm was brewing. 
"No, thanks. I'm not hungry." Bucky turned to walk away, but Sam grabbed his
arm.
Then the worst thing that could ever happen did.
Bucky felt Sam's hand on his arm and he spun around, opposite hand raised and
delivered a stinging back-hand across her face, the unexpected act of violence
making her stagger back and releasing him in the same instance. Where he struck
her, turning a bluish/black colour almost immediately.
Sam's hand flew up to her injured cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief and hurt.
"Bucky, wha-"
"Do not touch me you goddamned MONSTER!" He roared.
Silence reigned as that horrible word left his mouth and Sam felt her
heart shatter.
"You go around pretending to be someone you're not, pretending to be human when
you're not." Bucky looked murderous, the venom of his words stabbing into Sam.
"You are the stuff of nightmares. You are what sends children screaming, crying
and running to their parents' room at night because they are scared of the
monster in the closet."
Sam could feel the pain of his words wrapping around her throat
and squeezing, slowly cutting off her air and choking her.
"Bucky, please stop."
He laughed mirthlessly at her plea.
"Oh, the monster can beg." He sneered, "I don't know how the others can stand
to be around you, can still accept you, after knowing what you are."
Sam felt as if the world was closing in on her; the edges of her vision going
dark.
"Come on Bucky, don't be like that. You know me." Sam took a step towards Bucky
who stepped back, the look on his face cruel.
The back of Sam's eyes were burning with tears that she knew were going to
fall.
"I am not a monster."
Bucky snorted.
"I am not a monster. Yes, I have been alive for a long time and yes, I have
done a lot of ugly shit that I am not proud of; but I have spent the majority
of my very long life righting my wrongs." Sam felt the tears pooling in her
eyes threatening to fall.
"You do not know me; you have no idea of the number of persons' lives I have
touched. Tell me this Bucky, if I were a monster would I have helped Steve take
down Hydra and save the wold after knowing him for all of two days, hell, would
I have even let him into my house, giving him and Natasha a safe haven to hide
and rest?"
At that Bucky's looked a bit doubtful.
"If I were a monster, would I have trekked all over the world with Steve and
sometimes without him looking for his thought to be dead best friend turned
brainwashed Hydra assassin; not knowing anything about his man but the stories
that Steve told me and the belief that he could bring his friend, this great
man back to, if not who he once was but back to being a human being?" The first
tear fell.
"Answer me this Bucky, am I a monster?" The second tear fell.
"I read about everything Hydra made you do, everything, and I never once
thought that you were a monster, not once. And yet here you are, a man who I
called one of my very best friends, standing in front of me, throwing that
venomous word 'monster' straight into my face all because I look different when
I take off a simple piece of jewellery." Sam could no longer hold in the tears
and she let them cascade down her face. 
Bucky looked a mixture and ashamed of his words and behaviour. 
"Sam, I-"
"Nuh-uh," she shook her head, "you made your true feelings clear, there is
nothing you can say to change it. I-"
Her voice broke, along with her strength to stand and she bent over, hands
pressed against her knees to keep herself from falling to the ground with the
emotional pain she was feeling. She stood, there bent over in the middle of the
kitchen silently weeping, with Bucky looking on. They were so lost in their
world that they did not hear anyone else entering the kitchen until they heard
Steve's voice.
"Sam, Bucky, what's going on?"
Sam looked up, her eyes red to look at Steve, Tony, Natasha, Bruce and Clint
who were looking between her and Bucky in confusion.
Her eyes met Bucky's, "I am many things, but a monster is not one of them." In
the next instant she was gone, leaving Bucky to face a stern face Steve. 
"What the hell did you do Bucky?"
“I fucked up Stevie. I fucked up.”
***** Not A Monster (Sam/Bucky) *****
Chapter Summary
     Bucky fucked up and now he has a lot of people gunning for his blood.
     In which Bucky, Steve and Natasha learn that Sam has a big-ass family
     that loves her a lot and is extremely protective of her.
Chapter Notes
     I am going to say this once and ONLY ONCE: KEEP YOUR RACIST SHIT TO
     YOURSELF.
     This might seem random but IT IS NOT.
     In addition: DO NOT EVER LEAVE A COMMENT ON ANY OF MY FICS SPEWING:
     RACISTS, SEXISTS, AGEISTS, DISCRIMINATION AGAINST ANY RELIGION SHIT.
     I DO NOT tolerate prejudice/discrimination (whatever term you want to
     use) of any kind. There is enough of that disgusting shit in reality
     and I do not need it in something I do for fun and to share with
     others.
     If my words have struck a nerve in you and you are offended by my
     intolerance for idiots, feel free to never read any of my works
     again.
     With that said, NEW CHAPTER!!!! I finally finished it! *whew!*
     I hope that you all enjoy it!! :)
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you see any mistake please
     to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     The characters from Teen Wolf & Forever do not belong to me; I am
     just borrowing them. I like to use character from other t.v. shows
     and movies without having a crossover.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"You said what to her?" Steve's voice was low and dangerous and Bucky was
wondering how he wasn't six feet under by now. "Do you know what Sam sacrificed
the day she sided with me to take down Project Insight? Actually no, the moment
she offered Natasha and I a safe haven?"
"Steve, I know I fucked up-"
"Fucked up?" Steve looked at him incredulously the other Avengers sat around
the common room watching the scene unfold before them. They had never seen
Steve so angry before.
"You more than 'fucked up' Bucky! I don't even know on what level you messed up
but guess what pal, you just created a whole new category for your fuckery. I
can't even-" Steve cut himself off and grabbed fistfuls of his hair pulling on
it.
"Steve-" Bucky tried again only to be cut off when Steve held up his hand for
him to stop talking. 
Bucky looked down at the floor and curled in on himself, trying to make himself
smaller as if that would help him escape Steve's wrath.
"Just why? Why would you say that to her? Is it because she looks different
when she takes off a piece of jewellery?" Steve didn't give Bucky a chance to
answer before continuing, "look around, he waved his outstretched hand at
everyone else in the room, none of us are normal. Tony has an electromagnet in
his chest to keep shrapnel for piercing his heart and killing him."
"Thanks for being sensitive there." Tony called out.
Steve ignored him.
"Only God knows what they did to Natasha."
Clint snorted and muttered, "I doubt even God knows what they did to Natasha."
"Bruce turns into a giant green raging monster."
"I've never seen Steve like this." Bruce whispered to Clint who nodded in
agreement.
"Thor is the fucking Norse god of thunder, his brother Loki is the god of
mischief; these are actual beings that we read about growing up. I was a sickly
child and young adult and look at me now," Steve spread his hands to indicate
his much stronger and more durable body," I survived seventy years in the ice
Bucky, seventy years, do you think that's normal? And you, you fell from a
goddamn speeding train and fell down a rocky ravine, was taken by HYDRA, kept
being put in and taken out of cryo-freeze for even longer than I have been
awake and look at you now."
The first tear fell from Bucky's eye but Steve did not let up.
"And look at Clint."
"Oi, I am one hundred percent pure human."
"Look Clint," Steve emphasized, "do you think the things he can do is normal?
He may be just human, but a man, a human being with his skills is just not
normal, none of us are, so why attack Sam for what she is after all she has
done for you? Did you know that when I was busy and could not look for you, Sam
volunteered? For three months straight she looked for you by herself; yes,
she's a supernatural being and can handle herself but at that time I thought I
was sending my friend after a man who at any time could have lost his mind and
kill her."
"Steve I get it. I. Get. It. I need to make this right and I am going to." The
determination in Bucky's eyes did nothing to quash the anger in Steve.
"You're damn right you going to make amends and I will be coming with you to
make sure you don't fuck up an already fucked up situation."
Tony leaned over and whispered to Natasha, "I think you should go with them to
make sure Steve doesn't kill Bucky before he gets the chance to make amends."
With shame burning his cheeks Bucky asked the one question everyone failed to
ask, "ummm...where exactly is Sam?"
Everyone turned to look at Tony who sighed and rolled his eyes.
"I'll get you her location in the hour."
===============================================================================
 
Scotland
The trio stared up at the house, no, the castle before them.
"Ummm...." Bucky intelligently said as he stared up at the high castle walls.
Steve nodded dumbly, "I had no idea Sam was rich. She lives so humbly."
"This is not rich."
Steve and Bucky looked at Natasha.
"If this is not rich, then what is?"
"Tony is rich. This on the other hand," Natasha herself seemed to be at a loss
for words, "this is something else entirely."
The building which stood before them was a beautiful and well cared for 13th
century castle. The bricks on the outside were a vivid red as if they were
recently made and the vines growing up the side that they could see, showed an
artful contrast of green and red. The lawn that stretched further than the eyes
could see, was a deep shade of green that made Natasha have the most
unusual urge to go running across it bare-feet. 
They could hear the sea hitting against the rocks and knew that they were close
to the cliffs. They could also hear what sounded like laughter and music.
"Are we crashing a party?" Steve asked and they all looked around, for the
first time noticing the high end vehicles parked along the front of the house,
no the castle.
"Can I help you?"
Steve, Natasha and Bucky all spun around to where the voice came from,
surprised that someone had managed to sneak up on all three of them.
Before them stood a young man about sixteen, he had pale skin with freckles
dotting his face, his dark brown hair was short, but long enough to be styled
so that it spiked upwards The teenager was dressed in a gun metal shade
of formal wear, sans his jacket, his tie was loosened, the first button on his
vest suit was undone and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his
elbows showing off what looked to be like jet black tribal tattoos. 
Something about the young man put their teeth on edge but he did not look like
he wanted to cause them harm, he looked oddly curious and there was something
ethereal about him. 
Natasha was the first to break out of whatever spell he had them under and
spoke.
"We're looking for our friend, Sam Wilson. Is she here?"
The teenager took them all in one by one before nodding his head slowly.
"Yes, she is."
"Can you bring us to her?"
Stiles looked them all up and down shrewdly, "sure come this way."
Natasha glanced back at Steve and Bucky before following after the young man.
They walked around the corner of the castle, through a long and wide archway of
many different kinds of flowers; daises, roses, arum lilies, carnations,
amaryllis and many more whose names were lost on them, until they came to
clearing with a huge white tent and even more flowers.
"A wedding." Steve said in awe. "We crashed a wedding."
"Whose wedding did we crash?" Bucky asked the million dollar question.
The teenager snorted and continued walking towards the tent, Steve, Natasha and
Bucky walking a little behind him, taking in the possible hundreds of people
milling around, children chasing each other, laughing and shrieking as their
parents looked on in amusement.
"Is it just me or has no one even so much as glanced in our direction?"
 Natasha whispered, her green eyes scanning their environment for anything out
of the ordinary.
Steve and Bucky glanced around and realized that it was true. No one was
staring at them, the strangers in casual wear at a formal wedding.
They walked pass a few tables until they saw who they wanted, Sam clad in a
strapless, knee length, black lace dress with a satin bow tied in the middle,
with what appeared to be a pair of six inch stiletto sandals. Her hair was a
waterfall of dark brown curls, cascading down her shoulder with one side pinned
back with a diamond hair clip. Her ears were adorned with sapphire drop
earrings to match her sapphire and pearl necklace that she had on full display
around her neck. She was lost in a conversation, laughing carefree and Bucky
felt his breath catch in his throat at the beauty that was in front of him.
His concentration though was broken when the teenagers yelled out.
"Mom!"
The trio stopped in their tracks.
"Mom?!"
Sam's head snapped up at the call and her eyes widened when she saw them. She
got up and politely excused herself before walking over to them and it seemed
as though the crowd parted for her, showing her reverence in that one
movement. 
When she was finally in front of them, the teenager moved to stand beside her
and he towered over her by a good 11".
Steve, Natasha and Bucky looked between Sam and the teenager who called her
'mom' and now looking at them side by side, similarities between the two could
be seen such as the dangerous glint in their brown eyes, the same colour hair
and the way they carried themselves in a non-threatening but confident manner.
Sam carefully did not look at Bucky and gifted them with a bright smile, "not
that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you guys doing here?"
The teenager wrapped his tattooed arm around her shoulders.
"They were looking for you, figured I would help them out."
"Thank you Stiles, now go and find your sisters; I don't need another complaint
about someone's son getting drunk or any skinny dipping in Mrs. Granger’s
pool."
The teenager named Stiles (what an odd name) rolled his eyes and walked off,
presumably to do as told. 
"So..., you have a child." Steve said dumbly.
"Children." Sam corrected, "two girls and a boy."
"You're a mom." Natasha hated to admit that she was still in shock at the
sudden revelation.
"Yup. That I am."
"How?"
All eyes turned to look at Bucky and he quickly backtracked.
"No, I know how, just how, why did you not tell us that you had children? I
mean you left them to help Steve search for me, didn't that eat at you?"
Sam raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously, "my children aren't as young as
they look. They're all grown adults, we just have very good genes."
"Sam!"
Everyone turned to look at where the voice came from and saw Halvir, Sam's
friend waving at her and pointing at something out of sight under the tent.
"Listen you guys come and enjoy yourselves, there's still plenty of food
and cake left, please help yourselves and we will talk later." She began to
walk off when Bucky called her back.
"Hey Sam?"
She turned back to look at him, "yeah?"
"Your children, are they like you?"
A sharp glint entered Sam's eyes.
"I mean," Bucky swallowed, "are they gifted?"
She snorted, "gifted, no, they are much stronger than that."
Steve, Natasha and Bucky were left wondering when exactly their world was
tilted upside-down.
===============================================================================
They did as told and joined the party; Steve and Natasha however, were being
more sociable than Bucky at the moment who sat at a table by himself, his
sniper eyes continuously following Sam as she took care of the wedding guests,
while making sure the bride and groom remained under control. Apparently the
bride and groom decided to see which of their guests they could drink under the
table and things were getting a bit out of hand, that's why Halvir called in
Sam.
So, there he sat by himself watching Sam until Stiles dropped himself down in a
chair across from him, his eyes hard and Bucky would not admit under threat of
death, but the look in the teenager's (no, not teenager) eyes sent a chill of
fear skittering down his spine.
"Bucky Barnes, the man who has been to hell and back."
Bucky smirked, "how are you so sure I went to hell?"
The smile that appeared on Stiles face was dangerous and screamed 'give me a
reason to rip your throat out.'
"I know many things Bucky Barnes, many, many things, especially about you; it's
one of the things about being a 'Spark.' "
Bucky wondered about that word 'spark.'
"So let me tell you this from now, my mother is going to forgive you because
that's the type of person she is. But, but if you ever hurt her like that
again, well I will send you back to that Nazi hell from which you escaped."
Bucky swallowed in fear, he felt as if his warm blood was replaced by ice cold
water and he felt the same chill of the cryro-freeze container he was kept in
when he was not being used even though he sat under a tent on a warm spring
day.
"She-," he cleared his throat and tried speaking again, "she told you about
that?"
"Damn right she did, you cocksucking assho-"
"Stiles." A beautiful young woman in a yellow flair floral dress, with long
chocolate curly brown hair and eyes that matched Stiles walked up to their
table and placed a hand on Stiles's shoulder pulling his attention off of Bucky
who suddenly felt as if he could breathe again once those bewitching eyes were
no longer staring into the dark depths of his soul.
"Yes, Allison?"
"Leave the gentleman alone, you're scaring him."
"Good, he deserves to be scared after what he said to mom."
Allison smiled down at him as if she was smiling at a child showing off his
master piece of a drawing, "I know and don't worry, Abe will deal with him."
Allison turned her smiled on Bucky and he realized two things in that instant: 
1) Stiles and Allison were twins.
2) Bucky fucked up big time by hurting a devil whose children seemed to be even
scarier than her while still acting pleasant.
"Allison, Stiles," both them turned at the call of their names and another
beautiful teenage girl walked up to them. She had long strawberry blonde hair,
green intelligent eyes and had an air about her that screamed 'I am better than
all of you combined.' "Mom said to get you both so that we can take some
pictures and she also said to stop threatening her guest," the young woman
turned to look at Bucky, a look of utter distaste on her face and then walked
away.
"Trust Lydia to always walk away with a flair and with all eyes on her." Stiles
said and got up, offering his arm to Allison who took it and they walked away
following Lydia without as much as a backwards glance at Bucky.
"Hey, you ok?" Steve asked his friend as he joined him at the table.
Bucky turned to look at Steve, eyes wide and fearful, “children are scary."
===============================================================================
The party had wound down, the guests having seen off the bride and groom and
then making their own way home, except for those who would be staying at the
castle.
The caterers were packing away the leftover food and chairs and tables, there
were still a few children running around, squealing in joy as their parents
tried to round them up for bed, whereas others were passed out cold on their
parents shoulders being carried inside and to bed.
Bucky, Natasha and Steve helped pack away the chairs and tables as Sam told the
caterers where to put the extra food inside. 
"Thank you guys so much." Sam came out with four beer bottles in her hands and
Bucky was struck by the simplicity of the ease with which she carried them,
knowing an ordinary person would have had trouble.
"It's no problem." Steve said, accepting the bottle offered to him, "I mean we
did kind of crashed the wedding."
"Well this is Scotland," Sam stretched out her hands wide indicating the entire
country, "we're all friends here; just don't sleep with anyone's significant
other and peace will remain."
They all laughed at that, but an awkward silence soon reigned, but bless Sam's
heart she did not allow it to drag out.
"I assume there's a reason you're all here."
"Yeah, about that," Bucky scratched the back of his neck and his face was red,
"I'm-"
There was a sudden loud boom and everyone jumped, spinning around to where the
sound came from.
"Don't worry! It's just a small fire!" Stiles shouted as he ran from behind a
wall of the castle to inform his mother and then ran back behind it, Sam
assumed to put it out.
She took a long drag from her beer bottle, "you would never believe that those
children are in fact adults and they all have excellent control over their
powers. You were saying Bucky?"
Bucky opened his mouth to speak again, only for another explosion to sound.
"Oh my God! Stiles!" That shout came from Lydia this time.
"Ummm, shouldn't you go and see if they are ok?" Steve threw a worried look in
the direction of where Stiles, his siblings and some other children were.
"Nah, they're fine, however, Bucky and I should probably go inside to actually
begin our conversation." She took hold of Bucky's elbow and pulled him up
effortlessly and once he was on his feet, Sam slid her hand down to his
wrapping her fingers in a firm grip around his hand, "we'll be right in the
kitchen if you need us. Stiles! Try not to burn down the place!"
"I make no promises." He yelled back.
With that Sam and Bucky walked calmly away from Steve and Natasha, their joined
hands swinging gently between them.
Natasha folded her arms across her chest "and what are we supposed to do while
they're busy catching up?"
"Want to see what they're doing over there behind that wall?"
Natasha and Steve looked at each other and then took off running so see just
what the hell was going on."
===============================================================================
"So what have you got to say to me?" Sam asked as she hopped up on the kitchen
counter, making herself comfortable and right at that moment with her being at
Bucky's eye level, he never really noticed how small and short she is, to him
Sam always seemed to be larger than life itself.
Bucky coughed, cleared his throat and looked everywhere and anywhere but at
Sam, who just sat on the counter, waiting for him to gather his thoughts and
feelings patiently, while at the same time Bucky felt his face get hotter and
hotter.
"I'm an asshole. I never, never should have said what I said to you. Sam, you
have been nothing but a saint for the entire time that I have known you. When
you and Steve had just found me and brought me back home you were so kind to me
and when you had to leave for trips Steve would not stop singing your praises
and that made me want to get closer to you. I mean, you were this perfect
person."
Bucky stopped speaking, his words hanging heavy between them.
"But then you truly found out what I am and your idea of me being 'perfect'
shattered like a fallen mirror."
"Yeah."
Sam gently smiled at him, like a fond parent would their child.
"No one's perfect Bucky."
"I know that, but you were on this high pedestal long before I met you and it
just seemed to get higher and higher the more I got to know you."
"And I fell from that pedestal a long time ago Buck. I am a fallen angel, cast
out of Heaven, my once white wings turned the colour of ash and with the amount
of sinning I did once my feet hit the ground, they only got darker and darker
that if I look at them for too long I feel as if I am staring into the abyss."
Bucky remained silent.
Sam smiled bitterly and looked down at her hands, palms up, "I have so much
blood on these hands it's not even funny."
Sighing the sigh of a tired soul who had seen too much and done too much, "I
don't even remember when I decided to change my ways, I just knew that I became
tired of causing so much destruction."
"I know what you mean about destruction," Bucky looked at his metal hand, "I
may not have had a choice in it, but it was still me."
Sam nodded, "but I don't hold that against you."
"Unlike me who saw you for what you are instead of who you are."
Just then Allison ran into the kitchen, her heels clacking against the tiles
and grabbed the fire extinguisher.
"Don't worry everything is fine, this is just a precaution." She explained.
"Do I even want to ask?" Sam looked tired.
Allison stopped in her tracks, bit her lip and looked like she
was thinking very hard about what to say, "no." She then ran back out of the
kitchen to where she had come from.
Bucky looked back at her in bemusement, "aren't you even the least bit worried
about what they're up to?"
"Nah, they know what they're doing," she seemed to have rethink her words,
"whatever it is that they're doing."
"You sure 'bout that? I mean Steve and Natasha are out there with them."
Sam paled at that, "shitttttt."
Bucky nodded in understanding.
"Hello?"
Both Sam and Bucky looked in the direction from which the new voice sounded, an
older gentleman looking to be in his eighties walked into the kitchen.
"Hey Abe."
The man called Abe nodded his head in acknowledgement, "mother."
And Bucky choked on his beer.
"Mother?!"
He looked between the young looking Sam and Abe who was well on in his years.
"Ah," Sam hopped off the counter and walked over to Abe, taking his hand and
pulling him over, "Bucky, I'd like you to meet Abe, my youngest child."
Bucky had a look that screamed his brain had just broke down.
Abe chuckled, "explain it to him properly."
"I adopted Abe after my other three children were born and seeing that he is
100% human, he has aged, whereas the others have remained young looking."
"Well Bucky it's nice to meet you." Abe gave him a friendly smile and stretched
out his hand towards Bucky.
Bucky coming back to his senses clasped the outstretched hand, "likewise-" he
immediately cut himself off when he looked down and saw a series of numbers
looking faded with wrinkled skin on Abe's forearm.
Abe knew what he saw and sighed.
"Mom rescued me from Belsen, after I survived a death march from Auschwitz as a
mere babe."
"Oh." Was all Bucky could say. He was so ashamed of what he said to Sam and how
he had behaved after discovering her true nature. Here she was surrounded by
her family, with one of her children telling his story of how she had rescued
him from the same people he had died fighting and he called her a monster. 
He turned towards Sam, his eyes burning with unshed tears.
"Sam I am so sorry. I hurt you-" the tears began to fall and his voice broke.
"Hey, hey, no, Bucky," Sam stepped towards him and wrapped her arms around his
shoulders, "it's ok, I forgive you Bucky." She pulled back a little so that she
could look at him. "Bucky look at me, I forgive you."
Bucky sniffled and wiped his eyes, "you really shouldn't."
"Tough, because I do."
They smiled at each other, with a tinge of colour colouring Bucky's cheek.
"Thank you-"
"MOM!" Allison startled the three occupants in the kitchen, "Stiles turned the
barn into a gingerbread house!"
Sam felt her eye twitch. 
"Tell him to change it back this instant."
Allison bit her bottom lip, looking everywhere but at her mother.
"Allison Isabella Wilson, spill it."
"He turned himself into a toad and his magic is going haywire." She said in a
rush.
Sam stared at her daughter and then sighed the sigh of a put upon parent.
"I am going to murder his ass. You two," she pointed at Bucky and Abe, "stay
inside, I don't anymore collateral damage."
"Go easy on the kid mom."
"His ass is way older than you Abe."
Abe waved a hand dismissively, "technicalities."
Sam and Allison disappeared out the doors and Bucky and Abe were left alone.
"And then there were two." Abe turned to look at Bucky, a bright smile on his
face that set Bucky's teeth on edge, "have a drink with me." It was more of a
command than a request and Bucky was afraid of what would happen should he
refuse.
"Sure?" it came out strangled.
Abe smiled wide and led him over to the kitchen table before getting a bottle
of scotch and two glasses and pouring them both healthy servings.  Holding up
his glass Abe made a toast, "here's to family, friends and forgiveness." 
Bucky couldn't help but feel a threat behind that word 'forgiveness' and
swallowed his scotch almost choking on it.
"Another?" Abe asked and poured another glass of scotch before Bucky could say
otherwise.
As the two men sat in a heavy silence, drinking, they could hear a commotion
outside; screaming, shouting, something that sounded like fireworks and finally
an eerie silence.
"Um-" Bucky cleared his throat, "should we go and see if they are ok?"
"Nah, they're good." Abe said, still with that friendly smile on his face.
"You're brother has already threatened me and your sister said that 'Abe will
deal with him' so can you do what it is you're supposed to do and just let me
know if I should have updated my will."
The smile dropped instantly from Abe's face, "ok, I was trying to ease into it,
but fuck it; let me tell you this young man," Bucky found it hilarious that a
man he was older than in years but not in looks was referring to him as such,
"that brave, selfless, extraordinary woman, whom you called that filthy word,
'monster'" he spat "saved not only my life but countless others. She razed that
damn place that was our hell to the ground. If it weren't for her I would not
be here today."
Abe took a breath before continuing, "now I was just a baby when she did this,
but she took me in and raised me as her own, something she did not have to do
but did, so whatever she may have done in the past, before she met me, well I
don't care for none of that stuff. All I know is a caring mother who will take
on the world to defend her family, friends and those who can't defend
themselves. So let me tell you this sonny," Abe may not have been Sam's
biological child, but he was truly her son by the glare he levelled at Bucky,
"if you ever call my mother a monster again, I will show you a true monster."
Bucky shrank down in his seat, "yes, sir and I am sorry again for how I
behaved."
"Well it's all in the past, what matters now is that you came, apologised, mom
forgave you and all is well with the world."
"Get you asses inside! All of you!" 
Bucky and Abe turned see a fuming Sam walking behind her chastised children,
Steve and Natasha.
"You all know how dangerous it is to fool around with your magic, I don't care
how gifted you are."
"We're sorry mommy." Allison stepped forward and gave Sam what could only be
described as a diabetes inducing smile.
Sam was having none of it, "to bed with the lot of you."
Stiles sighed, "well it was fun while it lasted." He kissed his mother on the
cheek, with Allison and Lydia doing the same and the three of them made their
way upstairs after bidding their guests good night.
There was blessed silence for a few seconds before Sam wheeled around and
pointed her finger at Steve and Natasha.
"And you two are just as bad!"
"Sam-" Steve tried only to be cut off by her.
"Why would you dare him to turn him turn himself into an animal and try to work
magic?"
He shrugged, "he said he could and I said to prove it."
"You know what? Upstairs with your ass too, both of you." She pointed in the
direction of the stairs.
Bucky laughed, "good going Stevie, when's the last time you got sent to bed
early."
Steve subtly flipped him off.
Abe stood, "I'll show them where they can sleep. Oh, I'm Abe by the way." He
introduced himself.
"Thanks Abe." Sam said, as she and Bucky watched him lead Steve and Natasha
upstairs. "Back to the original two." 
Bucky turned to look at Sam, "yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck. The
silence was heavy between them, but bless Sam's heart, she took mercy on the
man standing before her.
"Come on, I'll show you to your room." She grabbed him by his hand and led him
up the stairs, turning off the main lights and Bucky realised that there were
nightlights placed strategically casting a warm glow along the hall way should
anyone have to walk through it during the night.
They walked in silence, hand in hand until Sam stopped in front of a huge door
and turned to face him, not letting go of his hand, something Bucky noticed and
was happy about.
"This is your stop, you'll find everything you need in your room and you have
your own bathroom. I am right around the corner, last door at the end of the
hall, come get me if you need anything."
"Wow, my own bathroom that's great, won't have to share with Steve and see his
pale ass."
Sam laughed at that and Bucky was happy that he made that sound come out of
her.
"Well good night Bucky, try and get some sleep because breakfast is going to be
crazy in the morning."
"That sounds like a threat."
"Oh, it's no threat." Sam looked serious, "I really do mean that it's going to
be crazy. Let's just say that having a bunch of people who can do magic, with
majority of them being under the age of 10 and not morning people, it will get
crazy. So be prepared to have a few cooking and eating utensils fly pass your
head."
Bucky chuckle, "your family sounds like a delight," and he meant it.
Sam smiled gently, "yeah, they are. Well I may be a devil but even today wore
me out, I'm going to get some rest."
She walked off, their joined hands breaking contact.
Bucky watched as she turned the corner and disappeared from view before calling
out to her, "hey Sam?"
She stuck her head back around, curiosity in her voice, "yeah Buck?"
"We good?"
She looked at him and walked back to him until she was in his personal space
and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Yeah, we're good."
Bucky smiled and wrapped his arms tightly around her.
"Thank you." 
Chapter End Notes
     Y'all learned a little more about Sam's life.
     I used Abe's backstory from "Forever" to explain how he ended up with
     Sam.
***** A Touch Of Magic (Sam) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam has never read a Harry Potter book.
Chapter Notes
     This is what happens when I watch "Harry Potter and the Goblet of
     Fire" all the way to "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" bewteen
     Friday and Saturday only to change the tv station Saturday night and
     discover that "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" is on. My ass
     went to bed 3:30 A.M. Sunday morning. :D
     I DO NOT own the Harry Potter series or The Captain America series. I
     am only borrowing the characters in order to do something I consider
     fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sam has never read a Harry Potter book; whenever she tells someone this, she
receives weird looks, as if she has missed out on something extremely relevant
to her life.
Well joke’s on them, because what people didn't know is that the reason she has
never read a Harry Potter book is because she has lived the story.
The entire Harry Potter series tells the events of Sam's childhood as a young
witch coming into her powers as well as the life and death adventure she had
with her two best friends.
Harry Potter or Casimir as was his name in real life when he drew breath was
Sam's best friend, who died saving their world, Wistal, a distant land of
another dimension, where magic overflowed like a cup being filled with too much
water.
Sam formerly Cordelia, remembers when, Avery, now known as Autumn, or Ron
Weasly in the Harry Potter series, called her up and told her idea of making
their life into a book. At first Sam was hesitant, but their story had to be
told; only they had no idea how much their story would have come to be
cherished and loved by the entire world; a world they had chosen to make into
their home after the death of Casimir. 
The only thing Sam knows is that 'Harry Potter' survives the great battle at
the end of the series; the battle in which Casimir had to give up his life in
order to defeat the darkness and so that everyone else would have a chance to
live. Other than that she knows nothing else, staying away from the books and
the movie theatres when the movies were out and there was a frenzy to see them.
That's why during movie night at the Tower she lies.
"Riley and I made a promise to never see the movies without each other."
Her words were met with pity and she felt guilt at lying to her friends and
using her dead friend to assist with the lie.
"And I intend to keep my promise to him." She said and made her way out of the
movie room and back to her bedroom where she could still hear the screams of
Casimir's mother as she held her son's lifeless body in her hands.
Sam never asked Autumn who her character was, but she couldn't help overhearing
Bucky the next day after his first time watching the first movie, gushing about
a smart as a whip little witch who kept her crazy friends in line, took shit
from no one and didn't let the fact that her parents were normal human beings
stop her from being at the top of her class.
Knowing that that little witch was modelled after her, Sam apparated out of the
tower as fast as she could to the highest mountain peak she knew of, so that no
one would hear her wails as she cried for her friend who died so that she could
live and for a life she left behind.
Chapter End Notes
     In case y'all are confused, Sam is from a magical dimension.
     Her and her friends fought for their dimension and won, but both her
     and Autumn needed a change so they came over to "our world."
     No one knows that Sam is a witch.
***** An Obsession (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     Brock becomes obsessed with Sam.
Chapter Notes
     New chapter for this series!!! I hope you like it!!!
     I DO NOT own The Captain America series. I am only borrowing the
     characters in order to do something I consider fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
He had first seen her after the fight on the bridge, when he and his team had
arrested, Natasha Romanoff aka The Black Widow, Steve Rogers aka Captain
America and her. Brock had no idea who she was at the time, but something about
her pulled him to her like a moth to a flame and he had decided then and there
that whatever happened to her comrades, she would be going home with him where
she would stay by his side.
So imagine his surprise which soon turned into raging hot anger when he opened
the back of the transport vehicle to find it empty with a big-ass hole in the
bottom of it. 
Brock was going out of his fucking mind during the last fight, wondering if he
would see her again and much to his delight he did see her. Brock’s delight,
however soon turned into horror as he watched the fucking Asset drag her from
the sky, tear off one of her beautiful wings and kick her off the helicarrier
to her death. He had no time to find out if she had died or lived because he
had his orders and had to continue moving in order to get to his boss. 
===============================================================================
Sam had no idea that she was the sole obsession of the man she was about to
take on, all she knew is that she had to stop him and with that thought in
mind, delivered a hard right hook across his face with her closed fist as soon
as he walked through the door she was hiding behind.
Her next hit was blocked and she was solidly knocked on her ass when he head-
butted her. Sam was on the floor looking up at him when he started speaking.
"Order only comes through pain, but for you I will make an exception."
"The fuck does that mean?" Sam asked as she cautiously got back to her feet and
they began circling each other, waiting for the other to strike first.
The smile he gave her made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. 
"It means I like what I see and I want you. Stay out of this mess, out of
HYDRA's way, come to me at the end, when all this is over and I will make sure
that you remain unharmed. Steve Rogers does not deserve a woman like you at his
side."
Sam was so stunned that she stopped moving, tilted her head to the side and
looked Brock up and down.
"You want to know the craziest thing about this current situation?"
"What?"
"I actually believe you."
That was the last thing Sam said to Brock, before she attacked him and they
engaged in an all-out brawl, until Steve sent one of the helicarrier's crashing
into the building causing Sam to jump through a window and into a helicopter.
As the day's events began winding down, Sam forgot all about Brock and what he
had said to her. She only remembered what he had said to her when Steve gave
her the file they hand on Bucky.
"Sam you can rest easy, Brock's body was one of the many they pulled from the
building's wreckage." Steve reassured Sam. "He was so badly disfigured that
dental records had to be used to identify him. That is how dead he is."
Sam knew about Brock's body being found under the collapsed building, but she
could not help looking over her shoulder, no matter which state, country or
continent she was in.
Finally two years later she and Steve found Bucky.
She should have suspected something with how smooth everything went after Bucky
was found, from getting him to agree to come back to the States with them, to
working with T'Challa and Tony in ridding him of his triggers words and giving
him a new arm, to him agreeing to stay in New York with Steve and train to
become an Avenger.
She should have suspected something.
But with finding Bucky and knowing that Brock was dead Sam went home, back to
work, fell back into her old routine and became complacent, thinking that the
danger was gone.
She can see just how wrong she was now that she was staring down the barrel of
a gun with the devil standing on the other side of it.
***** Eleven Years (Sam Wilson/Harry Hart) *****
Chapter Summary
     Growing up is not easy.
Chapter Notes
     I am sending a shout out to a few persons, they know themselves.
     Chill.
     That is all I have to say.
     DO NOT attack me just because I am a black, heterosexual (straight),
     26 year old female, who gender bent Sam Wilson.
     There are many people who there who like to read fics involving a
     female Sam Wilson; if you are not one of those then DO NOT read my
     fics that contains a female Sam Wilson and DO NOT attack me by
     hurling insults and calling me names just because I "bent" a
     fictional character's gender.
     If there can be fics containing 'mpreg' then I do not understand what
     the crime is to write fics with a female Sam Wilson.
     Now, since that is out of the way, let's return to the regular
     scheduled programme.
     New chapter for this series!!! I hope you like it!!!
     I DO NOT own The Captain America series or any character from
     Kingsman - The Secret Service. I am only borrowing the characters in
     order to do something I consider fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     Captain America/Kingsman crossover.
Sam had just arrived home from school when her mother met her by the door.
"Hi baby," her mother crouched down and pulled her into a tight hug, "how was
school?"
Sam returned the hug, "it was good. I got an 'A' in science and Marie made
coach grab his hair in frustration when she did a back-flip off the wall during
P.E."
Her mother chuckled, "you girls are going to make your coach go grey before his
time."
"Well it's a good thing you are so young; you still have a lot of time before
you go grey." Sam sassed her mother, a bright smile stretching across her face.
And it was true, at the tender age of 24 years old, Sasha, Sam's mother was as
young as could be, even to an 8 year old girl.
"Gee thank you for that." Sasha smiled and Sam thought that she looked nervous
and that was her first clue that something was amiss. "Before we go in I just
want to inform you that we have a visitor."
"A visitor?"
"Yeah, it's someone I have wanted you to meet for quite some time."
Sasha took her daughter's hand and they walked into their little apartment
together. That is when her 8 year old, chocolate brown eyes first saw him;
sitting there in the armchair (Sam's favourite chair) in their living room, in
his expensive looking suit, his black shoes so shiny Sam could see her
reflection from where she was standing still holding her mother's hand, his
brown hair slicked back and his hazel eyes looking through the lens of stylish
thick rimmed glasses.
The visitor smiled warmly when he saw her and stood as her mother walked her
over to him.
"Sam, this is Harry Hart, a friend of mine." Sasha turned to look at the
visitor whom apparently was called 'Harry.' "Harry, this is my daughter, Sam."
"It's nice to meet you Sam." Harry held out his hand for a handshake. 
If his clothes and the way he presented himself did not show he was well off
then his posh sounding British accent screamed 'MONEY!'
"I have heard such good things about you."
“I have neverheard anything about you.” Sam blinked innocently when her mother
nudged her.
Now, the thing about Sam is that she is very possessive of what is hers and her
mother has been hers since she was born, so this man named Harry, coming into
their lives, vying for her mother's attention did not sit well with her. Not to
mention she also hated it when adults lied just because she was a child. 
Sasha kept referring to Harry as her ‘friend’, (little did they know that Sam
has seen them kissing each good night from her bedroom window a few nights ago)
so being an eight year old Sam did what any other eight year old would have
done; she embarrassed the hell out of the two adults in the room.
Sam looked at the hand in front of her with unadulterated disgust clearly
expressed on her face. "'Friend?' Do friends stick their tongues down each
other's throats when they say 'good-bye' to each other?"
"Samantha!" Her mother squeezed her shoulder.
"What mom?! I want to know if they do!" Sam knew what she was doing but if this
man was going to insert himself into their nice little world he was going to be
in for one hell of a ride.
"Harry I am so sorry." Sasha apologised and Sam rolled her eyes. "I have no
idea what will come out of her mouth at times."
Harry apparently found it all amusing as he laughed. "It is fine Sasha. We were
both children once." He bend down so that he could look Sam in her eyes and she
had to restrain herself from flinging out her hands and pushing him over on his
ass.
"You are correct Sam. Most friends do not kiss each other the way your mother
and I do; with that being said, I would like to re-introduce myself, I am Harry
Hart, your mother's boyfriend and it is a pleasure to meet you."
"How old are you?"
The sound of a record scratching could be heard somewhere in the distance.
"Excuse me?" Harry's eye twitched and Sam wanted to smirk.
"How. Old. Are. You?" Sam repeated herself slowly as if she was speaking to
someone who had difficulty understanding the English language.
Harry glanced up at her mother who no doubt was blushing hard under her dark
skin colour.
"I am 55 years old." Harry answered graciously.
"So what do you want with a young woman 31 years your junior."
"Oh my God!" Sasha was beyond mortified, Sam had never behaved this way before.
She spun her daughter around to face her, "room. Home work. Now."
Sam knowing that her work was done spun back around and gave Harry a saccharine
smile who raised an eyebrow at her, "it was nice meeting you Harry." She then
proceeded to do as commanded by her mother. When she turned the corner down the
short hallway to her room, Sam stopped so that she could eavesdrop on the
adults' conversation.
"I am so sorry." Her mother apologised again. "I have no idea what got into
her. She's usually so well behaved."
Sam stuck her head back around and saw Harry pull her mother into a hug,
smoothing her hair down with his hands. "It's ok. It was rather refreshing
having someone so tiny speak their mind. She is going to be force to
be reckoned with when she gets older. 
Sam is 8 years old when her mother first introduces her to her British
boyfriend.
===============================================================================
Sam wanted to be happy for her mother when she told her that she was getting
married.
She really wanted to.
Over the course of a year, after meeting Harry, Sam saw how serious both he and
her mother were about their relationship. He had moved them both into
his huge house, located in an affluent neighbourhood in London, England. She
would never admit it but there were nights when she cried herself to sleep over
the sadness of leaving the only home and friends she ever knew. Sam kept quiet
about her feelings because her mother was happy and if her mother was happy,
she could at least smile and pretend to be happy. 
But...but...it would mean another significant change for Sam. 
Sam was now attending an exclusive private school, where she was at the top of
her class; her teachers, as well as her schoolmates all seemed to like her,
though Sam had no idea why considering she kept to herself. For her ninth
birthday, Harry had surprised her with piano lessons which she graciously
accepted. She knew her mother had told Harry she had wanted to learn but being
a young, high school drop-out, single mother Sasha could never afford piano
lessons for her daughter.
However, marriage would mean that Sam would get the biggest significant change
in her life: a father. Not a new father, but a father, the only father figure
she would have in her life seeing how the man who got her mother pregnant at
the tender age of sixteen saw fit to run off, leaving her to raise a child,
when she herself was still a child.
Sam knew that she should have been happy watching her mother walk down the
aisle, looking like an angel in her elegant but simple, white lace empire
waistline wedding dress. 
She should have been happy when they exchanged vows, Harry staring lovingly at
his bride and Sasha bursting with love for her soon-to-be husband.
Sam should have been happy when Harry made a special vow to her in front of
God, her mother and all their witnesses to love, protect and always be there
for her.
She should have been happy, seeing as how this was her mother's happiest day,
but...but...she did not feel the slightest joy in her soul.
Something was amiss, she felt it a year ago when she first met Harry and to
this day she was still feeling it.
There was something off about Harry, her mother's British husband.
Sam is 9 years old when her mother marries a British man.
===============================================================================
Two years. 
Two years later after uprooting them from the only home she had ever known,
moving to another country, getting married to a man who did not sit well with
Sam's soul because he was keeping something from them.
Two years later Sasha, age twenty-six, is killed instantly when a tractor-
trailer T-bones her car and causes it to flip three times before coming to a
stop with the help of a steel and concrete wall. She leaves a husband, Harry
Hart and a ten years old daughter, Sam Wilson-Hart.
'She died on impact.' The doctors say when Sam and Harry finally gets to the
hospital.
That does not help to soothe the open wound. It does not help to calm the
screaming in Sam's head that her mother is dead and it is her fault.
If she had not been sick, her mother would not have gone out at twelve o'clock
in the afternoon to get ingredients for chicken noodle soup.
If she had not been sick, she would have been at school, where Harry would have
collected her at two o'clock as usual and her mother would have gotten home at
about six o'clock after her evening classes were done.
If she had not been sick, Sam would not have had to stand beside Harry on a
cloudless, sunny day watching as her mother's casket was lowered into the
ground.
When the first shovel of dirt hit the casket Sam flinched violently.
"Sam?" of course Harry would notice, nothing got by him.
Sam looked up at the clear blue sky and squinted when the glare of the sun
caught her eyes. It was as if the perfect weather was mocking Sam's pain.
"Why is the sun shining?"
"What?" Harry looked up as well, his designer shades protecting his eyes from
the harsh glare.
"Why is the sun shining?" Sam repeated herself. "My mother was just covered in
dirt." She turned her head to look at the almost covered casket, "my mother is
dead, so why is the sun shining?"
With that Sam walked away from the graveside, Harry watching her as she left a
perplexed look on his face.
Too bad her mother would never get to see the 'force to be reckoned with' she
became when she got older and fought alongside with Captain America and the
Black Widow, as Harry had once said two years ago when they had first met.
Sam is 10 years old when her mother is killed in a car accident. 
===============================================================================
It had been a year since Sam's mother had died.
A year had passed and both Sam and Harry had learned to exist around each
other.
At first Harry was petrified of being a single step-father to a child he barely
knew but soon he found his footing. Sam on the other hand was doing her damned
hardest to keep him at arm’s length.
It was Christmas Eve; it would be their second Christmas without Sasha and both
widower and orphan were feeling the presence of her loss.
Harry had taken off a few days from work so that he could be home with Sam
during her Christmas break, but the child had yet to utter two words to him of
her own accord. He was currently in the kitchen making breakfast while
listening to a record of Christmas songs and carols. Silent Night had begun
playing and he hummed along to the melodious tune, unaware that his step-
daughter had awoken upstairs.
Sam woke up and she was in a shit mood. 
She had not slept well and the loss of her mother weighed heavily on her heart
this time of year. Christmas had been Sasha's favourite time of year. Sam
remembered how every year, as soon as it was December 1st, her mother would
play nothing but Christmas carols and songs on their little C.D. player;
with Silent Night being played almost repetitively as it was their favourite
Christmas tune.
Even when it was nowhere near Christmas, Sasha would sing that song to Sam with
her beautiful singing voice anytime she was feeling down or on the nights when
Sam was in bed.
The memories of past Christmases hit Sam so hard it was as if she could hear
the faint strings of Silent Night. That is when her eyes snapped open and she
sat up in bed, tilting her head to the side and holding her breath. There it
was, the faint '...mother and child, Holy infant so tender and mild...' 
No.
Sam swung her legs over the side of her bed.
No.
Her bare-feet hit the cold hardwood floor but she felt nothing but hot anger
coursing through her veins.
No.
She swung open her bedroom door with such force it was a miracle it did not
fall off its hinges.
No.
Sam hurriedly walked down the hallway, to the stairs, her little feet hitting
them with a soft thud.
No.
She walked through the kitchen, ignoring Harry and how her sudden
furious appearance seemed to have confused him.
"Sam?"
No.
She walked into the living room, straight up to the record player and took the
needle off the record, both her and her mother's favourite Christmas tune
cutting off in the middle.
"Samantha!" Harry's voice called her by her given name sharply and she turned
around slowly to face him. "What has gotten into you? I was listening to that."
"Listen to something else." She replied flatly.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Sam was not into it this morning, she was hurting and this man was the reason
for her hurt. She marched up to him, her 4'8" frame
against his towering  6'1 1/2" height would have looked like a daughter having
a playful squabble with her father to an outsider looking in; but this was no
'playful squabble' when Sam opened her mouth.
"I said: listen to something else."
Harry stared down at his step-daughter who looked so much like his dead wife
and felt his patience with her attitude starting to slip.
Inhaling deeply before responding so he did not say something to damage their
almost non-existent relationship any further, Harry responded to her command.
"Sam, I know that you are hurting-" that was all he got out before Sam cut him
off.
"You know shit."
He was taken aback by her tone and language.
"Now, listen here young lady-" but again Sam cut him off.
"You are the reason why I am hurting!" She screamed out. "YOU! If you had never
met my mother and married her she would still be alive and I would not be
hurting!" Sam's little chest was heaving from her outburst.
Harry's hazel eyes were wide behind his thick rimmed glasses. "Sam, darling how
long have you been bottling this up inside of you?"
"I am not your darling!" Sam snapped, pushing pass Harry to walk back into the
kitchen.
Harry spun around, his eyes tracking her. "Sam please, talk to me. How can I
ease your pain?"
Sam turned on his, her brown eyes alight with fury, her little hands clenched
in tight fists at her sides and Harry wondered if she was about to attack him.
"Give me back my mother! Can you do that?!" The hysteria was clear in her
voice. "I want my mother! Give her back to me!" It was becoming hard for Sam to
breathe, what with her shouting and the fact that she could feel the tears that
she could not cry a year ago come bubbling up.
"You took her from me when you first met her and then you kept taking and
taking, and now I have nothing!"
Harry watched as his eleven year old step-daughter started having an emotional
breakdown that was a long time coming.
"We were fine by ourselves. Yes, at times it was difficult because we were
poor, but we were happy and most importantly my mother was still alive!" The
last word came out as a wail and Harry's heart broke.
He moved towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, "Sam, please-"
"DO NOT TOUCH ME!"  She screamed and Harry backed off. "I want my mother!" The
first of many tears began to fall and Harry stood there as Sam fell apart,
wailing for her mother. 
She covered her face with her hands and cried. Harry wanting offer her comfort
but knew both his words and touch were unwanted.
"I...want...my...mommy." She said between sobs and hiccups. "Mommy, mommy,
mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy." Sam kept repeating until her energy ran out, her
knees buckling and she collapsed on the floor, folding over on herself so that
her forehead rested on the cold hardwood floors of the kitchen, unaware that
Harry himself and sat down on the floor as well, his back against the kitchen
counter as Sam cried out her pain, sorrow and anger.
Fifteen minutes later, Sam had cried out all her tears, her eyes felt dry, her
head hurt, her throat felt raw from all the wailing and her chest hurt from how
hard the sobs had wracked her small body. She laid there on the floor, her
cheek pressed against the floor, her eyes wide with tear tracks staining her
face. The room was deathly quiet and if she had looked over at Harry she would
have seen tear tracks on his face as well. 
She laid there on the floor until she mustered up the energy to get up on shaky
arms and legs.
"I'm going back to bed." That was all she said before climbing the stairs and
heading back to her room, leaving Harry alone in the quiet of the kitchen on
the eve of her eleventh Christmas.
The next morning, Sam woke up to a deathly quiet house, the morning of her
eleventh Christmas. Something on her bedside table caught her eyes and she
turned to get a better look. It was a note from Harry.
'Sam, I was called into work for a few hours. However, I will be back by 11
o'clock sharp and we will celebrate Christmas together. Your breakfast is in
the oven, please eat and stay out of the gifts. Merry Christmas Sam. - Harry.'
Looking at her Transformers clock, it read 9:30 A.M., so another hour and a
half and Harry would be back home. Kicking off her bed-covers, Sam began making
her way downstairs, intending on eating her breakfast and watching cartoons
until Harry returned.
She had just entered the kitchen, when she stopped dead in her tracks; before
her stood four men in masks with high powered weapons and they seemed equally
as stunned to see her.
It was a stand still moment in which no one moved; Sam staring at the men and
them staring back at her. 
One of the men's finger twitch on his gun and that's all Sam needed before she
was high-tailing it out of the kitchen, into living and towards the front door.
"Get her!"
She reached the door and got it open before it was slammed shut by one of the
masked men, not bothering to stop and think, she ran around the couch, jumped
over the centre table and back into the kitchen where she grabbed the slicing
knife Harry had sharpened the day before, right as one of the men grabbed her.
She spun around and stabbed him in his leg and managed to land a kick in his
crotch.
He dropped to the floor, howling in pain when the other three entered the
kitchen while Sam booked it up the stairs and ran down the hall way to seek
refuge in her step-father's forbidden office, slamming the office door close
and locked it. She stepped back, warily eyeing the door as the men pounded on
it and it shook, their voices shouting at her to open the door. Spinning around
Sam ran to the desk and grabbed the phone lying on it, she dialled a number she
knew by heart and put the phone to her ear listening as it rang, all the while
keeping her eyes on the door that stood between her and the men who invaded her
home.
When she call finally connected she screamed into the receiver before the
person on the other end had a chance to respond.
"Harry! There are men in the house with guns!"
"What?!"
"Harry? What is it? Is Sam alright?" She heard an unidentifiable voice ask in
the background and Harry shushed them.
"Sam, where are you?"
"I am in your office. I locked the door, but they are banging on it and it is
shaking a lot."
"Bloody hell. Merlin, men are in the house, they are trying to break into my
office where Sam has currently locked herself in. I am going there right now.
Find out who they are." He said as he ran to the garage to get his car.
Sam yelped when another blow to the door, rattled the bookshelf in the office
and a small vase fell off of it, hit the floor and shattered.
"Sam! What was that?!" 
She was terrified, she wanted her mother, and she wanted Harry to be here with
her. If he were here he would have gotten rid of the men. He would have
protected her, but he was not here with her.
Another blow to the door and it budged and Sam backed herself into a corner,
her grip tight on the phone as Harry tried to calm her.
"Sam, Sam, sweetheart it will be alright, I am on my way there, as are a few of
my friends, nothing bad is going to happen to you. I am coming for you, do you
hear me?"
Sam barely heard a word he said, eyes wide with terror on the door as each blow
to it made the lock holding it closed, weaker and weaker.
"Harry," her voice small and weak and it broke his heart, because while Sam may
have been aloof, sad, sarcastic and a little shit at difficult at times, she
was never weak, "Harry, I think they are going to get in."
"No, darling, they are not going to get in." Harry floored the gas pedal of his
car, willing it to go faster. Praying that he was not about to lose his child.
Another blow and the door flew open, banging violently against the wall that
the door handle left an imprint in the concrete wall. The men walked in and Sam
felt herself go pale.
"Harry, they are in the office."
She heard him swear, but her eyes were on the men as they spread out and
created a semi-circle, walking towards her. Menace in their eyes that she could
see through slits in their masks. Knowing that it was fight or flight and she
decided to go down fighting and tried to make a run for it. The man on the left
managed to grab her when she had dodged the one she had stabbed in his leg,
making her drop the phone in the process, the call still connected so Harry
could hear her screaming.
"Let me go!!" She kicked out and caught the one she had previously injured in
his face making him take a step back. 
"Hold the little bitch still!" The one who was injured shouted, holding his
nose that she had no doubt broke.
"Your mother is a bitch!" She screamed at him, still fighting against the one
who was holding her.
"Get off of me! My dad is going to kill you all!"
"Fucking knock her out man!" The one holding her shouted. "All this noise is
going to attract unwanted attention."
The shortest man in the group stepped forward and Sam stared at him, still
kicking out hoping to catch him in a sensitive area. He took out a smaller gun,
flipped it in his hand and using the butt of it slammed it viciously across her
temple and Sam dropped like a sack of potatoes.
The room had gone suddenly silent, since Sam was no longer screaming. It was so
quiet that the men could hear Harry's voice screaming over the still
connected phone line. The man who had knocked her out, took up the phone and
spoke into it.
"Harry Hart, you took someone from us and now we are taking someone from you."
He disconnected the call, not bothering to listen to Harry's threats. 
Just ten minutes after they had left the house with Sam, Harry arrived to the
empty house, rage coursing through his veins that someone was brazen enough to
enter his home and steal his child. His phone rang and he answered it.
"Who are they Merlin?" He looked at the drops of blood leading up the wrecked
office.
"O'Hannigan's men." Merlin replied.
Harry swore, raking a hand through his neat hair messing it up. "Shit."
"How do you want to do this Harry?"
"Get a team ready and send them out. I am going to get my child back." Harry
went to the secret weapons compartment in his closet and started arming
himself. "And Merlin, make it fast, Sam had put up quite a fight and knowing
her she is going to give them a hard time. I want to get to her before one of
them puts a bullet between her eyes."
"Right away Harry, Lancelot, Galahad and Percival are on their way."
"I will meet them there." The sound of harry cocking his gun was the finality
that the call had ended.
Sam is 11 years old when she is violently kidnapped from her home on Christmas
day.
===============================================================================
 
The first thing she became aware of was in the intense pain radiating in her
skull, the next was the cold hard surface on which she was lying. Sam slowly
blinked her eyes open, looking around at her surroundings as her vision slowly
cleared, memories of what had happened coming back to her.
She had no idea where she was as she took in the high ceiling, with high walls
that had large windows, too high for Sam to reach and climb out of. Through the
windows she saw that snow was falling and felt a chill run through her body,
not from the cold but the fear at not knowing what was going to happen to her
now. Sam tried to move her arms only to discover that they were securely tied
behind her back as were her legs. Grunting in pain and exertion, she managed to
roll over to a support column and prop herself up against. Just as she started
trying to loosen the ropes around her wrists the door to the room she was being
held in opened and a man walked.
"Glad to see you're finally awake. I was afraid that I had hit you a bit too
hard."
"You did hit me too hard."
The man who looked to be around her mother's age when she was killed, Sam
observed as he walked over to her. When he was a few feet from her, he stooped
down in front of her, his brown eyes boring into hers.
"You did quite a number on my guy, lil' lady."
If Sam had to describe the look on the guy's face, it would have been
'impressed.'
"Is he still breathing?"
The man's facial expression changed to one of confusion.
"What?"
"Your guy, is he still breathing?" Sam repeated her question.
"Yes." The man answered slowly.
Sam smiled sweetly, "then I must not have done a good enough 'number' if he is
still breathing."
The man was about to say something when the door behind him burst open.
"Will! Is the little bitch awake?!"
Sam recognised the voice as the man whom she had injured.
"Who are you calling a 'bitch' you English muffin?"
Will burst out laughing at Sam's insult and the other man looked murderous.
The man she had injured, leaned his hip against another column a few feet away
from her and stared at her, malice emanating from him. "Please me that I
can kill her now."
At his words Will eyes narrowed dangerously and he turned slowly to look at the
other man, "you are not killing an eleven year old girl, Jackson." He growled.
The man called Jack smiled innocently, "fine, if I cannot kill her, then can I
at least hurt her a little as payback for my leg and crotch?" That is when he
revealed the crowbar he was hiding behind his back and Sam's eyes widen at the
thought of him using that on her.
"Fuck off Jackson."
"Come on, let me at least break one of her knee caps." He twirled the crowbar
between his fingers, his devilish blue eyes glinting with untold hatred as he
stared her down.
"Let me repeat myself: you are not hurting an eleven year old girl." Will
growled at Jackson who still had the crowbar in his hand, dead set on breaking
Sam's knee. 
"I wasn't aware that Hart had a child." One of the other two men commented as
they walked in.
"A very beautiful child." The other man commented and the look he gave Sam
raised the hair on her skin. Apparently his look was not lost on the other men
in the room.
“Both you," Will pointed at the man who had commented on Sam being beautiful,
“and Jackson are to go nowhere near her. Do you both understand me?"
"Oh, come on Will, don't be such a killjoy. It's not as if I am going to hurt
her." The man took a step towards Sam and Will stepped in between them.
"I said: do you understand me?" He growled.
The two men rolled their eyes. "Yes." Was the unison reply.
"I have to use the bathroom." Sam spoke up and all four men turned to look at
her.
"I will take her." The Asian looking man volunteered. He walked over to Sam and
crouched down in front of her, "you try anything funny and I will let Jackson
do what he wants to you. Do you hear me?"
Sam knew that he was not saying that just to keep her in line, he truly meant
it and she nodded.
"Good girl."
"Hey, what about me?" The man who kept looking at Sam with something impure
shining in his eyes.
Sam barely had time to blink before the Asian man had a gun pointed at his
crotch, "Owen, I am only going to say this once: keep your fucking hands off of
her or I will castrate you. Painfully."
Owen held up his hands and backed away, "you always take the fun out of
everything Kirigi."
"Little girl, you are so fucking lucky." Jackson sneered and threw the crowbar
at her, it missed her face by a few inches and hit the concrete column, debris
flying from it and Sam was shocked, no, she was terrified. 
"Hey, you ok?" The man named Kirigi knelt back down in front of her, but she
could not speak, she was terrified. She wanted her mother. She wanted Harry. He
said that he was coming for her and she hoped that was true.
"Let's get these ropes off you and get you to the loo."
Sam kept quiet as Kirigi cut the ropes from around her wrists and ankles. Her
mind was racing a mile a minute when all of a sudden her eyes zeroed in on the
vicious looking knife in his hands. The thing about Sam is that she had grown
up on the rough streets of New York. No matter how much her mother tried to
shield her, she saw and heard things that no child should have heard.
Seeing that knife now reminded her of the time when she had overheard two
gangbangers talking about their kills. One of them had said he had sliced a
guy's throat from ear to ear and he instantly bled out, the guy had no idea
what had happened before he hit the ground. A plan began to formulate in Sam's
mind. She may have been only eleven years old, but she had an extremely high
I.Q. and she was born and bred on the mean streets of New York, if you wanted
something you had to take it and she wanted her freedom really, really bad and
she was going to take it come hell or high water.
Kirigi gripped her arm as he escorted her out of the room, down two hallways,
down a flight of stairs, across a large open space, down another hallway until
they arrived at a small but clean restroom. 
"You have five minutes. I will be coming in, even if you are not finished by
then." He closed the door.
She spun around in a circle, looking for something to use as a weapon, but
there was nothing, not even a window. There was only the toilet, sink and a
mirror. Sam instantly spun around, her eyes landing on the mirror. She walked
over to the sink and climbed up on it, while balancing, she gingerly removed
the mirror; it was a lot heavier than it looked and quickly got down off the
sink and placed the mirror on the floor.
Looking down at it, she saw her reflection staring back at her, grim
determination in her eyes. Taking off her sleep shirt, she laid it over the
mirror and as gently and quietly as she could she broke the glass. Once the
task was done she put on back her top and  carefully took up one of the larger
pieces that she could use as a weapon, that she used to cut off a piece of her
shirt and wrapped it around the broad end of her makeshift weapon so that it
would not cut her.
Next she lifted the mirror as high as she could and prayed that the plan in her
head, would play out properly or else she would be dead. The sound of the
mirror falling to the ground and the glass shattering was deafening in the
small enclosed space and Sam let loose an equally loud cry.
The door slammed open and Kirigi rushed in.
"What the fuck happened?!" He looked from her to the mirror back to her to see
her clutching her arm. "Shit!" He was by her side in an instant, checking to
see where she was hurt when the next thing he knew was something warm spilling
down the front of his shirt and he was having difficulty breathing. He brought
his hands up to his neck, his eyes wide when he saw the shard of glass in Sam's
hand, his blood staining the sharp end of it.
Sam had acted quickly when Kirigi had carelessly gotten close to her and jammed
the large piece of broken glass into the man's neck, watching as the blood
spurted out between his fingers and the gurgling sound he made as he fell to
the floor.
Sam is 11 years old when she first kills someone (in self-defence).
===============================================================================
 
She stood there for a few seconds, trying to process what she had done, when
she spied his knife and knowing she had to get out of there before the others
came, she grabbed the knife, ran out of the restroom making sure to close the
door behind her. Heedless of the blood staining her clothes and hands, Sam ran
back the way Kirigi had taken her, running out into the large open space hoping
to find a door when she almost collided with Owen.
He looked shocked by her appearance.
"What the fuck?!" He then saw the knife in her hands, "the kid is loose!" He
managed to scream out before Sam got a chance to stab him in the only place she
could reach to do enough damage, his crotch. He howled in pain and dropped to
his knees, Sam seeing her chance grabbed him by his hair and dragged when the
sharp blade of the knife across his throat from ear to ear.
He fell dead too, just like Kirigi and Sam continued running until she heard a
bang and some of the concrete in front of her flew up like a small landmine
went off. She stopped in her tracks and looked up at the stairwell, there was
Jackson, his gun pointed at her with deadly aim and Sam knew the first shot was
just a warning.
"Make another move and I will gladly put a bullet between your eyes." He
promised as he slowly made his way down the stairs. "I don't know why we did
not just kill you and left your body for you father to find, it would have been
whole lot simpler."
"Actually it would have been a whole lot simpler if you had just stayed away
from me and my daughter." A new voice said and Sam recognised it as Harry's.
Jackson spun around to find where the voice was coming from when Sam was
suddenly grabbed, hoisted over someone's shoulder as said person hauled ass
across the room and seek cover behind a wall.
"I have the package!" The person, a young man shouted into an ear piece and for
the next ten minutes there was nothing but guns going off as Will and Jackson
had a shootout with Harry and whoever else he had brought along with him to
rescue her.
The fire fight died down and a ringing silence that settled among them.
"All clear!" A female voice called out. 
The young man who had a loose grip on Sam's arm turned around and picked her
up. 
"It's a bit messy out there and I do not want you cutting up your feet." He
explained and winked at her before walking out from behind the wall and out
into the wide open space.
All around them were bullet casings, there was concrete debris littering the
floor from walls and columns that got shot up.
"Sam!"
Her head snapped up from where she was looking at the mess on the floor and saw
Harry striding towards them.
"Daddy!" The word was out of her mouth and she was on the floor running towards
him before her brain could process any of her actions.
He scooped her up and wrapped his arms tightly around her; her arms equally
tight around his neck. She buried her face in his neck and held on for dear
life. Sam was aware that Harry was saying something to her, but she could not
hear over the frantic beating of her heart at being rescued.
The emotional, mental and physical turmoil she went through from the moment she
had stepped foot into that kitchen, to a few minutes ago boiled over and she
began wailing on Harry's shoulder and he squeezed his arms around her tighter.
Running his hand over her hair, trying to calm her.
"Harry." The young man who had grabbed her called his attention. "There are two
more bodies up here, their necks sliced open."
"I guess that's where all the blood came from." The young lady who was with
them commented.
"Sam." No response. "Sam, darling can you tell me what happened?"
Sam reluctantly loosened her hold around his neck and turned her head to look
at him.
"I am tired Harry. I want to go home." Her eyes were red and tears were still
streaming down her face, but she was no longer bawling.
Harry nodded his head, knowing that he could question her later once she was
cleaned up and rested.
"Let's get you home then."
Sam replaced her head on his shoulder, her face turned into his neck so that
she did not have to look at anyone else. He said that he was coming to get her
and he did.
Sam is 11 years old and for the first that since Harry became her step-father
she hugs him, while she's covered in the blood of the men who she killed.
Harry did not take her home; instead he took her to some mansion where she was
given a room and fresh clothes to change into which was a task considering she
would not release her hold on Harry (something Roxy, Eggsy, Charlie and Merlin
found extremely hilarious) and when she did, Sam demanded that he sit on the
toilet seat while she took a shower, not caring that he himself needed to
change thanks to the blood transferring from her clothes to his once pristine
suit.
Once she was clean, Harry sat her on the grand bed with a fish sandwich to eat
while he got cleaned up. When he exited the bathroom in a new suit sans his
jacket Sam saw the guns in his shoulder holster.
"I knew you were keeping something from us."
Harry raised an eyebrow at her statement.
"I beg your pardon."
Sam rolled her eyes and crawled up the bed towards the massive piles of pillows
and grabbed one that was almost as big as her and wrapped her arms around it.
Harry knew that if the pillow was alive it would be turning blue from a lack of
oxygen at how tight Sam was holding it.
"Me and mommy, I knew you were keeping something from us the moment I met you."
"And here I thought you just hated me because I took your mother away from
you." Harry sat down at the edge of the bed.
"Well that too, but..." she trailed off, her eyes flickering over Harry, never
staying in one place to give him an idea of what exactly she was looking at.
"But...?" He prompted.
"You just seemed too good to be true. You were too shiny?"
"Shiny?" Harry deadpanned.
Sam shrugged her shoulder and settled down further into the mass of pillows.
"That is the only way I can describe it."
Harry nodded his head as he contemplated her words.
"Hey Sam?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me now what happened? To the men in the warehouse, who killed
them?"
Sam went quiet, staring at nothing, seemingly a thousand miles away.
"Sam? Hey, Sam, darling come back to me." Harry snapped his fingers in front of
her face and she looked at him in a daze. "Whose blood was on you sweetheart?"
"I killed them."
Harry knew it was a possibility that Sam has somehow killed them, but hearing
her admit it was something else.
"How?"
"Does it matter?"
"I just want to know how an eleven year old girl got the drop on two grown ass
men."
She began fiddling with the pillow in her hands "I, umm...I took a piece of
broken mirror and sliced open the throat of the man who took me to the restroom
and then I took his knife and stabbed the other guy, who he told not to touch
me or he would castrate him, in his crotch and when he dropped I sliced his
throat open too." 
"Sam..." Harry was speechless.
"Why did they take me?"
Harry sighed, he laid down on his side on the bed, his hand propping up his
head. He felt emotionally and mentally drained. The fear that coursed through
him at the thought of losing Sam was something he had never felt before.
"They came looking for me, but they kidnapped you instead in order to get back
at me. I took down their boss three years ago, before I met your mother."
"So it's your fault." Sam smiled mirthlessly. "Of course it is, everything is
your fault." She muttered the last part under her breath. This killer was the
reason as to why she was kidnapped.
'This killer came to rescue her' a small part of her mind whispered to her as
she tried to set the pillow she was hugging on fire with her glare.
"I did not hear you, what was that last part?"
Sam stared him down, something in her eyes that let him know this young girl
was not someone to be trifled with if her fight when she was being kidnapped
was anything to go by or the fact that she was able to kill two of her
kidnappers.
"I said it's your fault. It is your fault that my mother is dead-"
"I am well aware you think that." Harry dryly interjected.
"-and it is your fault that I was kidnapped on Christmas!"
"Are we back to this? Considering you called me 'daddy,' when I found you." 
Sam blushed, remembering what she had referred to him as soon as her eyes had
landed on him after that traumatic experience.
"It was a slip of the tongue." She defended.
"You would not let me go, even to get cleaned up." Harry looked smug.
"I really hate you right now." Sam mumbled but it was weak. She seemed to have
remembered something because she sat up ram-rod straight, her eyes wide, "I did
not even get to watch cartoons or open my presents and Christmas will soon be
over!"
The room fell silent after Sam's shout tapered off. 
Harry glanced at his watch and indeed Sam was right; only six minutes were left
of December 25th "I am sincerely sorry that you had to go through all that and
miss Christmas. I was really looking forward to celebrating it with you."
Sam sniffled as tears ran down her face again, "I know." Was the quiet
response. "Thank you for coming to get me."
"Sam," Harry stretched out his hand along the bed, turning it over so that his
pal faced up, "two years ago I made a promise to always love, protect and be
there for you. Today I upheld my vow and I will continue to do so for as long
as I draw breath."
Sam stared at his upturned palm.
"I give you my word as a gentleman, your father and as a Kingsman Agent."
Her eyes met his and she saw the promise in them. She pushed the pillow aside
and slowly reached across the bed until her could join hands with him and her
smaller hand was engulfed by his much larger one.
That's how they spent the last few minutes of Sam's eleventh Christmas; lying
down on the bed, hands joined as the quiet enveloped them and Sam started
falling asleep, the day's events beginning to catch up with her. Just as Harry
was about to suggest that she go to bed, Sam jolted awake and asked a very
important question.
"What the hell is a 'Kingsman agent’?”
Sam is 11 years old when she finds out her step-father is an agent for
Kingsman.
 
 
                                   The_End.
***** Caged Bird (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     "A free bird leaps...and dares to claim the sky..."
     "...The caged bird sings of freedom."
     Brock finally has Sam right where he wants her.
      
     "I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings" by Maya Angelou
Chapter Notes
     This is a sequel to: 'An Obsession (Sam/Brock)'
     I received comments asking for more; so I present this to you and
     hope that you all like it. :)
     Just a side note: Brock is fucking crazy.
     I DO NOT own The Captain America series. I am only borrowing the
     characters in order to do something I consider fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
It had been a hot Friday in July and Sam was looking forward to spending the
weekend doing nothing in the comfort of her A.C. home. Seeing that Steve and
Bucky were somewhere in Italy having a romantic getaway, she would have the
house to herself and she smiled at the plan of turning the A.C. on the coldest
setting as possible, without worry that she was causing her friends any
discomfort.
Night had fallen when Sam finally finished her last case file of back logged
work. She said good night to the night guard, walking to the parking lot where
she got into her car (a gift from Bucky for wrecking her other car), soon she
was speeding down the deserted road, A.C. on full blast when she heard a funny
sound coming from the car and the steering wheel began to rattle in her hands. 
Bringing the car to a stop, Sam got out of it and walked around it, looking to
see if something had gotten caught on it and was being dragged. Seeing nothing,
she got down on her hands and knees, grumbling that her dress was getting dirty
to look under the car. There was nothing there either. Sam having no idea as to
what was creating the sound, decided to drive slower for the rest of her
journey home, resigning herself to calling Tony and asking if he could
recommend the best mechanic (a part from himself) in D.C. to take her car to.
She got back into the car and drove off, for five minutes it was blissfully
quiet and then the sound started up again. It sounded as if the car had a flat
tire, but she had checked them and they were all in good condition. The sound
got louder and louder and right when Sam was getting ready to pull back over on
the side of the road, there was a loud pop, the car swung to the left and Sam
slammed her foot down on the brakes. 
When her heart had finally calmed down, she exited the vehicle again and walked
around it, only to discover that the left front axle had broken complete and
the wheel was at an odd angle.
"Fuck my life." She swore and raked her fingers through her sweaty hair.
Knowing that she had no other option, she called AAA and was informed that they
would be at her location in an hour. She next called Tony to let him know what
had happened, the man might have lived in New York, but his influence was far
reaching and he said that a car would be there to collect her in an hour as
well.
Having nothing else to do and with her car being hot and making that damn sound
anytime she turned on the A.C., she took a seat on the trunk of her car and
settled down to play fruit ninja on her phone.
Approximately ten minutes later a dark tinted Range Rover came driving down the
road, Sam kept her head down, but her eyes and ears tracked the vehicle and she
braced herself when it came to a stop beside her. Too close to her car. Her
senses were on high alert and for good reason.
Sam's eyes widened when she saw just who was when in the Range Rover when
the window rolled down.
"Need some help?" Brock's voice was dark as his intentions.
Sam did not get far before both he and Jack were on her.
Two_Hours_Earlier
"And you are sure that she won't get hurt from this?"
Jack levelled him with a look, "I grew up around car maniacs. Something as
simple as sabotaging her axle will not kill her. It will just make a loud,
frightening sound when it finally breaks and she will be left stranded. You
will then have your opportunity of grabbing her and taking her wherever you
want."
"Two long fucking years and I will soon have her." Brock could already feel her
warm, soft, smooth skin under his fingers and the taste of her on his tongue.
Present_Time
As soon as Sam's brain registered who was in the vehicle she was off the trunk,
and on the other side of her car, the passenger side door open, reaching for
the gun she carried in her handbag, when out of the corner of her eye she saw
Brock launch himself over the top of her car. Her fingers grasped the grip of
her gun when she felt a presence behind her and she jumped back in time for the
door to miss slamming on her arm and possibly breaking it thanks to Jack
fiercely kicking it closed.
Sam backed up, her gun pointed at them as they got in between her, the cars and
the road. 
"It's been a long time Sammy girl." Brock said, his predator eyes raking up and
down her form, taking in her thin strap, blue and white summer dress.
"I thought you were dead." Her eyes were on Brock and she could feel the
hysteria wanting to set in, but shook it off. Now was not the time, she had to
survive this and get away from these two men. "Your body was found buried
beneath the Triskelion, what the fuck?"
Brock's smile was smug, "you would surprise at the amount of times my death has
been faked."
He took another step towards her and Sam fired off a warning shot close to his
foot.
"Another step and the next bullet goes between your eyes." 
"Oh, you should not have done that Sam."
Sam did not know someone as large as Jack could move so fast, the only thing
that made her aware that he had just kicked her gun out of her hand was the
searing pain in her wrist and the fact that her only weapon went flying to her
far right. That's how the fight started.
For the next five minutes, Sam fought against two men bigger than her. Her
dress was dirty and torn, her body felt bruised from all the hits and kicks she
had not been able to dodge or block. There was a cut on her cheek and her lips
was split.
Brock and Jack looked no better. 
Jack had two broken fingers and Sam had knocked out one of his tooth. Brock
would be sporting a vicious black-eye in a few hours and he had deep scratches
on his left cheek, courtesy of Sam's fingernails.
"You should have left me alone." Sam growled, her eyes flitting between the two
men who were circling her, like sharks smelling blood in the water.
"And you should have come with me the first time I told you to. I would not
have had to mess with your car if you just obeyed me."
"Obeyed?" Sam sneered, "go and drop dead Brock and stay dead this time."
"No, can do Sam. I want you and I am going to have you."
"And I have no say in this?"
"You do actually, you can decide whether you will come willingly or if I am
going to have to beat you into submission, bound and gag your ass."
Sam was staring at the epitome of insanity. She had no idea what brought about
his obsession with her and frankly she did not want to know.
"I choose shooting you and your friend between your eyes and not losing any
sleep over it!" Sam dove to the side, grabbing at her gun that she had gotten
closer and closer to over the course of the fight, however, much to her horror,
her fingers did not even brush the weapon before strong arms grabbed her from
behind and dragged her up roughly so that her back was plastered to a strong
chest.
"Get the fuck away from me you crazy assholes!" She kicked out, Brock dodged
the kicks and Jack tightened his grip on her arms that he had wrenched almost
painfully behind her back.
Brock then moved in close enough that she could feel his breathe on her face.
And she went dead still when she found herself staring down the dark barrel of
an equally dark gun with the devil himself standing on the other side of said
gun.
"Two years." He cocked his gun and shoved it hard into Sam's temple, using his
body to push her harder into Jack's body who had an iron grip around her
wrists. 
"Two years, I waited." He tucked his gun in the waist of his pants by the small
of his back and took out a syringe filled with some kind of clear liquid which
made Sam's eyes widened and she started thrashing, hoping to throw him off of
her or loosen Jack’s grip on her.
"Don't you dare Brock." Sam's eyes never left the syringe, "don't you dare."
"Two years, I followed you and Rogers from state to state, country to country,
continent to continent, until finally," he uncapped the needle using his teeth
and spat out the cover somewhere on the dark road. "Finally I got you alone."
Brock stuck the needle into her arm and released the liquid poison into her
veins.
Sam immediately began to feel sleepy and could not keep her eyes open, for a
coherent sentence or even hold herself up anymore. The last thing she heard
before the darkness overtook her was Brock saying.
"You should have come with me willingly the first time we fought two years
ago."
===============================================================================
Sam felt as if she was swimming in syrup. Her limbs felt heavy and she was
struggling to open her eyes. She could hear the sound of something that sounded
like and engine only louder and a bit muffled, but she had no idea if that was
from the syrupy feeling.
When her eyes finally opened, she had to blink to clear the fog. Wherever she
was the lights were dimmed and she was lying on something soft. She tried
sitting up only to feel someone gently pushing her to remain lying down.
"Where am I?" She tried to ask, not sure if her words were comprehensible
considering her tongue felt heavy as fuck.
"Shhh." 
That was a man's voice and alarm bells started sounding in her head and she
tried sitting up again.
"No, whe-where am I?"
"Just relax, we will be there soon."
Sam had no idea who the man was or where 'there' is but she wanted out and
tried getting up a third time, that is when she felt a stinging sensation in
her arm and the darkness came for her again.
===============================================================================
The next time Sam awoke, she was still lying on something soft, but this time,
wherever she was bright as hell. Her eyes slammed shut against the brightness
and she had to slowly blink her eyes open. When they were fully open and her
vision no longer blurry, she saw that she was in a bedroom. 
Once her awareness kicked in she immediately sat upright on a bed that was not
hers in a room that was definitely not hers.
"Finally awake I see."
Sam turned and saw the stuff of nightmares standing by the bedroom door,
looking too much like a human being in grey loose, soft looking sleep pants and
a black t-shirt, with bare-feet. 
"I am assuming that since I am looking at evil incarnate that last night was in
fact not a dream." Sam dropped her rubbed her face with her hands. "Fucking
fantastic."
Brock had yet to saying anything more. He stood there looking at the fierce
beauty before him, she may hate him and want to kill him, but that is not going
to stop him from taking what he wants.
As if hearing his thoughts Sam held her head up, her eyes alight with hate,
"what the fuck do you want with me? Are you trying to get to Steve? Bucky?"
Brock snorted, "fuck Rogers and that Popsicle."
"Watch your mouth asshole." 
"I want you because I want you. No, ulterior motive."
Sam tilted her head, studying him as if she could decipher what the hell was
going on in that brain of his.
"So, you basically sabotaged my car, attacked me, drugged me and carried me-
" Sam looked around the room, "where the fuck am I?"
"Isle of Islay."
There was a beat of silence as Sam processed what he had just said. The name
sounded familiar, it was as if it were smoke and Sam could not pin down how she
knew it.
"Best known for its peaty, smokey whiskies." Brock commented as if he were a
fucking travel guide book.
It was as if a light bulb went off in Sam's head. "Scotland?!  You brought me
all the way to fucking Scotland?!"
Brock shrugged as if it were no big deal to have brought her all the way to
Scotland. 
"Why Scotland of all places?" 
"Where do you think the name 'Rumlow' comes from?"
Sam stared at him.
"No one knows that my grandparents are from Scotland; figured it would be the
best place to take you."
"I am only going to tell you one last time Brock, let me go."
"No."
Sam was reaching the end of her rope, what the fuck was going through that
crazy head of his?
"This has gone beyond fucked up, into you should be in a white jacket in a
padded room. And on that note, I am leaving this place and your crazy ass." Sam
threw back the covers only to stare down at her legs in horror. There was a
shackle with a thick chain around her left ankle and her eyes trailed along the
chain that disappeared over the edge of the bed to see that it was anchored to
the floor.
"You were saying?" Brock looked at her like a cat that well and truly had his
canary trapped.
Sam looked up at him, pure horror shining in her eyes and Brock felt his cock
twitch at the sight of her looking lost and vulnerable.
"What the fuck?" She jumped off the bed and grabbed the chain, pulling as hard
as she could but there was no give, not in the chain or the bolts anchoring it
to the floor. "You fucking psychopath!"
"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" 
Sam wanted to tear his fucking face off.
"Do you really think you can keep me? That no one will notice that I am missing
and come looking for me? I am best friends with Captain America and The
Winter Soldier, two of the most stubborn and vindictive assholes in the world,
they will search every corner of this godforsaken planet until they find me and
when they do, they will tear you a part mercilessly!"
Brock's smirk was downright evil and something about it made a shiver of fear
run down Sam's spine.
"Answer me this Sam, why would they look for a dead person?"
"Wha-what the fuck are you on about?"
"Two years." Brock walked further into the room and since he entered the room,
Sam saw the tablet he had in his hands. He tapped on it for a few seconds
before holding it out to her. Sam looked at the tablet before her and Brock
shook it impatiently, "take the fucking tablet Wilson."
She did as told and when she looked at the screen, it took her a few seconds to
process just what it was she was looking at.
"UNITED STATES AIR FORCE VETERAN, SAMANTHA TERESA WILSON, FOUND MURDERED." 
That is what the headline of the daily Washington, D.C. Post read. 
Even with the words glaring at her in black and white, Sam was still unable to
make heads or tails of what it was she was seeing.
Her grip in the tablet was that strong that the screen cracked a little. "What
is this?" She would feel the hysteria building up in her.
"Your death of course." He said it so nonchalantly and Sam felt something snap
in her.
"YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" She screamed and lunged at him, only for the
shackle around her ankle to pull taut, making her fall to the floor. When she
looked up at him he was only a few feet from her but she could not reach him.
"I probably should have mentioned this from before, but the chain only grants
you so much freedom and no more. Once I believe that you have gained at least a
small amount of my trust to not try and escape, maim or kill me, I will allow
you to roam around the house and when you have earned it, I will even allow you
to go outside."
"I am not a fucking pet!" 
Brock narrowly dodged the tablet she threw at him. It hit the wall and broke a
part.
"That was a gift from my cousin, Sam and that is in no way earning you my
trust."
"You and your trust can go to hell!" Sam was still on the ground, pulling at
the chain anchored to the ground as if it would break at any moment. "How did
you do that?! How were you able to fake my death?!"
"I had two years to plan everything down to the 'T' Sam, I was not going to
allow you to slip through my fingers again."
"Fuck you Brock."
"Well if you want to move that fast," he walked closer to her, stripping off
his shirt and Sam could feel the bile rising in her throat, "I was going to
wait until you felt better and had some food in your stomach, but..." he
trailed off and shrugged his shoulders, his predator eyes on Sam.
She let go of the chain and fell backwards on her hands, closing her eyes, she
breathed in and out until the hysterical screaming in her head calmed down.
"Just tell me how you did it Brock? How did you manage to convince my friends
and family that I was 'murdered’?”
"I told you Sam, I had two years to plan everything. You think sabotaging your
car was just a way of getting to you?"
"It wasn't?" Sam sarcastically asked.
"That was just the beginning of your murder."
Sam shuddered at that; if he was able to fake her murder, what was to stop him
from really killing her?
"I kept tabs on you Sam, while you were globe-trotting and when you came back;
I needed to be able to get you alone and once your roommates left town, it
became the perfect opportunity to snatch you up."
"You said that I was 'murdered.'" Sam picked herself up and sat back down on
the bed. "If I were murdered, don't you think someone is going to investigate,
put two and two together and see that things just do not add up?" She hoped
that he had slipped up somewhere in his two years of planning, because she had
no idea how she was getting out of this one.
"Trust me when I say that this is an open and close case."
"Humour me; tell me how you planned my 'murder.'"
Brock stared her down and she stared right back at him, not backing down.
Sighing, Brock walked to the love seat that was positioned right under the
window that looking closely at it now, Sam realised that there were bars on the
outside of it, preventing her from escaping that way.
"Jack and I did not just physically attack you for the hell of it, we needed
the evidence surrounding your vehicle to show signs of a struggle. Once we
knocked you out, we drew a sufficient amount of blood from your arm in order to
stage a perfect crime scene."
Sam looked down at her left arm and right there on the inside of her elbow was
a small band aid, no doubt protecting a small pinprick of a hole where they had
stolen her blood to fake her murder.
"The article said I was found 'murdered' which poor soul did you kill to use as
a stand in for me?"
"I have a friend who is a medical examiner, owed me a favour."
Sam felt sicker and sicker with each word coming from the monster sitting
across from her, but she needed to know what he did so that she could at least
have some idea of his thinking process in order to escape him.
"My friends and family are going to take one look at that body double and know
that it is not me."
"The body was found burnt beyond recognition, so dental records had to be used
and guess what," the smile on Brock's face was again like that of a fucking cat
who got his canary, "they came back as a positive I.D. for one Samantha Teresa
Wilson."
"You still have not said how this is an 'open and close' case. Who did you pin
my murder on?"
"Two former HYDRA agents. They knew who you were and their homes were searched,
with the discovery of a lot of damning evidence on them following you, having
your work schedule, as well as pictures of you at your home, on your morning
run, at work, grocery shopping, the blueprints to your home and the kicker is
they were both found dead, brains blown out with a note saying they knew they
would not be safe with having killed an Avenger. So there you have it, your
perfect murder."
Sam did not know what to say to all that was just revealed to her, so she
decided to go with one thing she knew was true.
"You are one sick puppy Rumlow."
"Bark, bark." His smile was sharp.
"I hope that you are aware that I am not going to take this lying down. I am
not going to just accept this for what it is; I am going to escape and return
home to my friends and family." Sam vowed. "You have no idea what you have just
started Brock."
Brock smirked and got up from his seat, and approached the bed, but remained
far enough so that Sam could not attack him.
"You can make your life here hard or easy for yourself Sam. Just show me that
you can behave and you will have as much freedom as you want within reason."
"When is the last time you took your crazy meds? I mean do you hear what is
coming out of your mouth?" Sam was tired from all the mental and emotional
swings she was going through right now. "You kidnap me, take me to another
country, fake my murder causing my friends and family terrible grief and you
say that I should 'behave.' Well let me tell you something Rumlow, well behaved
women rarely make history and I can tell you from now that I have no intentions
of behaving." 
The fire in her eyes showed her grim determination and something in Brock
snapped.
Before she knew what had happened, Sam was sprawled on her back, on the bed
with Brock's weight pinning her down.
"What the- get the fuck off of me!"
Brock ignored her screams and grabbed the chain, using it to wrap around her
wrists tightly as he snarled in her face. "And I want you to know that I do not
have any problems with beating you into submission. I will break you Sam
Wilson. I will continuously force myself on you until the fight leaves you and
you can only lie there and take it or until you welcome it."
Sam stared at him in horror, bile rising to her throat.
He stroked her face with his hand. It was gently like a lover's caress and Sam
wanted to bite his fingers off.
"I do not want to do that to you." He let go of her wrists and Sam pulled them
free of the chain.
Brock eased his weight off of her body and rose to his knees so that he was
looking down at her; Sam too the opportunity to get out from underneath him and
moved backwards on the bed.
He grabbed the chain and pulled it taut, making sure that Sam could not move
back anymore, "I like your fire but I will put it out if I have to." He reached
his other hand out and grabbed her unshackled ankle, squeezing it as he
continued to speak, "I am the personification of possessiveness. Do you think I
am going to allow you to get away from me a third time?" 
Having had enough of his bullshit from the start, Sam kicked out viciously and
caught him right in his face. Brock released his hold on her and Sam kicked out
again, kicking him off the bed and onto the floor on his back. She was up and
off the bed in no time, straddling his waist and started punching him. 
"You. Sick. Psychotic. Prick!"
Brock caught off guard allowed her to get three hits in, before the turned the
tables and flipped them over.
"My turn." He grinned down at her, blood on his teeth and dripping from his
nose. He backhanded her three times, twice across her right cheek and once
across her left cheek. He punch her hard enough to give her a black eye and
then he got to his feet where he proceeded to deliver five brutal and ruthless
kicks to her vulnerable mid-section. "Had enough?" He asked.
Sam spitting saliva mixed with blood on his barefoot was her answer.
He bent over and grabbed her by her hair.
Sam's hands flew up to his, trying to pry open his hold on her.
"I told you before Sam, I do not want to hurt you. I really don't, but I will
if I have to."
"Then let me go." Sam said weakly, her face was on fire and she could not
breathe properly, her stomach hurting too much and she knew that she would be
sporting some serious bruises in a few hours. 
"Not an option Sam." Brock let go of her hair and Sam collapsed on the floor,
the coolness of the tiles offering some comfort to her face. 
"I am going to leave you here to decide whether you are going to make your life
from here on out either easy or difficult." Brock started walking away when he
remembered something. "Oh and just so you know, I have cameras installed in
here, so you do not get any funny ideas such as attempting to take your life as
a means of escaping, the windows are barred and all of the furniture is bolted
to the floor."
"Do I at least get to use the bathroom?"
"There is one right through that door with all your basic necessities and
through that door is a closet with clothes in your size. If there is anything
else that you want within reason, just let me know and I will get it for you."
Sam made the mistake of sarcastically laughing. "Wow...you are so accommodating
for a psychotic kidnapper."
"I told you that I want you Sam and now that I have you, I intend to make you
stay as comfortable as possible. Now we both have to get cleaned up, there is a
first aid kit in the bathroom, should you wish to use it and you can do with a
few more hours of resting."
"So fucking considerate." Sam rolled over on her back, a feat that was
extremely painful, "go and fucking die Brock. Go lay down and die somewhere."
His bare-feet were silent on the floor as he walked back over to her. She kept
her eyes closed but felt a dark presence standing over her. 
"I can be a nice guy Sam."
She snorted.
"I can!" He defended himself. "Just ask the people in town."
"No thanks." She coughed and pain shot through her abused body. Even speaking
hurt.
"I can take care of you for the rest of your life. Money is not an issue; you
will be able to live as comfortable as you want."
She remained silent.
Brock knelt down beside her, stroking her bruised cheek gently and Sam winced,
out of fear or pain, she did not know. "I can be a nice guy Sam. I want us to
get along.”
She laughed humourlessly at that. “A black woman and a Nazi getting along,
isn’t that ironic?” She coughed and her body was wracked with pain from jarring
her injuries.
“I am not a Nazi and we can get along. You just need to cooperate with me and I
will give you anything you want."
"My freedom." She choked out.
Brock said nothing.
He got up and walked to the bedroom door. 
"Get some rest Sam. I am sorry I roughed you up so much, but there will be
consequences if you try and go against me.
Sam remained quiet as he closed the door and that was like a nail in her
metaphorical casket. 
The deafening silence that followed the closing of the door was finality enough
that this was now her life and Sam closed her eyes, allowing the first of many
tear to fall at her current and as far as the eye could see predicament.
Outside the barred windows of her prison, Sam heard the singing of a bird.
 
Caged_Bird
By: Maya Angelou
"A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind   
and floats downstream   
till the current ends 
and dips his wing 
in the orange sun rays 
and dares to claim the sky. 
 
But a bird that stalks 
down his narrow cage 
can seldom see through 
his bars of rage 
his wings are clipped and   
his feet are tied 
so he opens his throat to sing. 
 
The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom. 
 
The free bird thinks of another breeze 
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees 
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn 
and he names the sky his own 
 
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams   
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream   
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied   
so he opens his throat to sing. 
 
The caged bird sings   
with a fearful trill   
of things unknown   
but longed for still   
and his tune is heard   
on the distant hill   
for the caged bird   
sings of freedom."
***** Ohana Means Family (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.
Chapter Notes
     I changed somethings regarding the plot of The Winter Soldier so that
     this fic would make sense.
     I DO NOT own The Captain America series. I am only borrowing the
     characters in order to do something I consider fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     Work has been crazy and is only going to get crazier as we are
     working on a huge project, therefore, you may not see any new updates
     from me for a few months. I will try to squeeze something out every
     now and then but I make no promises.
Brock had never gotten along with his father. He had always been a rebel, where
as his father was quiet and just wanted his son to calm down, do well in
school, go to college and make the most of his life outside of the small town
he was raised in after his mother had died when he was ten years old. That's
why as soon as Brock turned eighteen he hightailed it out of the little
backwoods town and never looked back.
He had not spoken to his father in twenty years since that day.
That's why when he was sitting in the locker room, unwrapping his hands after a
sparring session with Steve Rogers, it came as a shock when his phone rang and
he saw the area code and when he answered it to hear the soft calming voice of
a female on the other end he knew that nothing good was going to come from the
call.
"Good afternoon, am I speaking to Mr. Brock Rumlow?"
"Yes, this is he." His hand was half unwrapped as he clenched the phone
wondering if this is the call to inform him that his father had died.
It was indeed the call informing him that his father had in fact died and whole
lot more.
"Mr. Rumlow, this is Dr. Althea McTaggarth, I am calling from the St. Anna
Maria Hospital."
Brock remembered that hospital all too well, sitting in the hard-plastic chairs
in the waiting room, until his father came out to tell him what he had already
known at the tender age of ten and again being rushed to the emergency room at
the age of sixteen when some punk had stabbed him in the back during a parking
lot brawl. He had never seen his father look so scared before in his life, but
that did not stop him from finding the asshole who had stabbed him two weeks
after he had his stitches taken out and made sure that he would not be able to
stab anyone again.
He knew that his father had an inkling of what he did but never said anything
further about the matter. Brock had survived and healed and that's all that had
mattered.
The doctor's voice brought him back from his thoughts.
"Sir, I regret to inform you that your father died from injuries he sustained
in a vehicle collision."
Having a vague idea of what the call was about and having that vague idea
confirmed was something else and Brock, even though he had not spoken to his
father in over two decades, it was still like a punch to the gut hearing that
his only living relative was now dead.
"Um," he cleared his throat, the back of his eyes burning with tears that
wanted to come to the forefront but he forced them back. "So, what do you need
me to come and identify the body? Make funeral arrangements, because let me
tell you I have not seen or spoken to that man in over twenty years. I am sure
his friends would know what to do in a situation like this."
There was an inhale of breath on the other end of the call that made Brock sit
up straighter.
"Sir, from what you just told me I am going to assume that you did not know."
He clenched the phone harder and heard it creak under the pressure but paid it
no mind as he got up from the bench and started pacing the room, not noticing
that Steve, Natasha and Jack had entered the room and were watching him.
"Did not know what?" He growled. He knew nothing good was going to come from
this call, but what the hell did his father do?
"Mr. Rumlow, your father,” the doctor specified,“his family was with him in the
car at the time of the accident."
Brock came to a sudden halt, the world around him going quiet as those two
words rang in his ear, 'his family.'
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Sir, I think it would be best if you came down here and we had this
conversation face to face."
"No, I think not. Let's have it right now."
"Sir -"
"Fucking answer me!" He roared causing Steve to flinch, Jack's eyes to widen
and Natasha to raise an eyebrow at a normally cool Brock being anything but
that.
There was a resigned sigh on the line before Dr. McTaggarth spoke again.
"Jake Rumlow at the time of the accident was accompanied by his wife Iris and
their ten year old daughter, Sam."
It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He felt himself
falling and then two pairs of strong arms catching him and holding him up. He
felt bile raising up in his throat.
"Wi-wife and daughter?" His voice cracked and his mouth felt dry.
"Yes, his wife died instantly on the spot. The dashboard broke and it impaled
her chest.  Your father though, he survived the initial crash and was
dragged out of the wreck by your sister, Sam." The doctor explained, "However,
he had many open wounds that were bleeding profusely and she was unable to stop
the bleeding; as a result, he bled out."
Brock dropped his hand from his ear, hearing nothing but white noise mixed with
the roaring in his ears. He had no idea what was more shocking, that his father
had died or the fact that he had a step-mother and a little ten year old sister
that he knew nothing about. He was vaguely aware of Steve and Jack asking him
what was wrong, of Natasha standing back watching it all unfold with a trashcan
in her hands because Brock knew that he looked like he was about to hurl.
He shakily brought his hand back up, hearing the doctor's rising voice over the
line.
"Doc, I will be there by tonight." He ended the call and sat there stunned.
"Brock, for fuck's sake, you are freaking us all out." Jack said, still trying
to get through to his friend. "What the fuck happened?"
Brock turned to him, his mind still reeling with all the information he was
just given in the last ten minutes.
"I have to go home."
"Home?" The confusion was clear in Jack's voice until a 'light bulb' went off
over his head. "You mean back home to Creek Water? The same place you said you
would never return to?"
"Yeah." Brock dragged a hand down his face, still not being able to process the
fact that his father and his wife were dead, but their daughter, his sister was
still alive and waiting for him to come get her. "I have to go back." He tried
to get up only for Steve and Jack to push him back down on the bench.
"What happened Brock?" Steve and his ever concerned self-asked. If he ever knew
how he was being played, Brock is sure that he would not be so concerned.
"My father died in a car accident." He laughed mirthlessly, "and here's the
kicker, apparently he remarried and he and his wife left behind a ten year old
daughter."
The room was silent for a minute. 
"You have a sister?" Jack asked, "that's great?" He sounded as unsure as Brock
felt.
"Great is not the word I would use from the look of Brock's face." Natasha
finally spoke up. "Listen, you need to go to your sister."
Brock rolled his eyes at her. "We do not even know each other. I am just a
stranger to her."
"Don't be so sure Brock. You may not have known about her, but I am sure she
knew about you."
All three men looked at Natasha.
"I am sure she knew all about the big brother she had out there somewhere and I
am sure that she wanted to meet you; probably not under these circumstances,
but still she wanted to meet you."
"Natasha's right." Steve said. "Even if you don't know each other, her world
just fell apart and more than likely she is scared and lonely. You should go
considering that the hospital called you."
"I will drive you, since we can all see that you're in no condition to drive
yourself anywhere."
"Thanks Jack."
"No problem."
===============================================================================
Brock stared unseeingly out the window as jack drove through his old town. From
what he had registered there were changes but not much, there was still the 24/
7 diner on the corner of the town's largest intersection, ten blocks from his
house. The church had been fixed up, no doubt his father helped with that. He
told Jack to stay on the main road. He did not want to drive pass his childhood
home just yet.
When they arrived at the hospital, Brock went straight to the nurses' station.
"Hi, I am Brock Rumlow. I received a call that my father and his wife were
killed in a car accident."
"Mr. Rumlow?" A voice called from behind and both men turned to see a tall,
dark skinned doctor looking at them solemnly. "I am Dr. McTaggarth, I called
you." She reached out her hand that Brock shook it.
"Please, call me Brock."
"Ok, Brock, will you and your friend come this way."
Brock walked beside Dr. McTaggarth as she spoke, Jack trailing behind them.
"Your sister, Sam, has a few bumps and bruises, her major injuries were a
dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist. She received the injuries to the same
arm, both have been set and she is now recuperating." Dr. McTaggarth trailed
off.
"But?" Brock prompted, knowing there was a 'but' in there somewhere.
"But, she refuses to eat."
"What do you mean refuses to?"
"I mean she will not eat anything. Not the hospital food, we had a burger
brought over from the diner she would not even look at she. She won't even eat
any candy or chocolate. And as a result, she has lost six pounds in two days.
That is not natural or healthy for a girl her age, size or the fact that she
just went through some severe trauma."
"What ten year old kid refuses candy?" Jack asked.
"A kid who is grieving." Brock said, remembering how he could barely eat after
his own mother had died. He could not imagine what the toll of losing both
parents at the same time could do to a person.
Dr. McTaggarth stopped by an ajar door, "well she's right in here. And I should
also inform you, since arriving she has not spoken to anyone. Hopefully she
speaks to you. If you have any further questions, you can just ask one of the
nurses to page me."
"Thank you, doctor." 
She walked off leaving the two men outside the door.
"So, ready to meet the sister you knew nothing about?"
Brock took a deep breath and let it out. "Let's do this." He walked right into
the room, the curtains were open letting in the sunlight and giving the room a
light airy feel, there was a t.v. mounted on the wall in corner that was off.
Brock rounded the privacy curtain and came to sudden stop almost causing Jack
to run into him.
"Why'd you suddenly stop like that man?" He asked before looking over Brock's
shoulder at the little girl sitting on the hospital bed.
At the little black girl sitting on the hospital bed.
"Shit."
Brock elbowed him, "do not curse in front of children."
There on the hospital bed, a little black girl sat, looking at the two men
before her with dead eyes. Her mocha coloured skin was covered in cuts and
bruises, her wrist was in a blue cast (Brock's favourite colour) and her entire
arm was in a sling, there was nasal cannula around her face as well.
Sam's eyes slowly moved over the two men, stopping on Brock who stared back.
"Well she has your eyes." Jack said to break the tension that was steadily
mounting in the room. and Brock had to agree, they had the same light green
eyes, a trait that ran in his family from his father's side.
"Um, hi, I am Brock, Jake's son and I guess your brother." He trailed off
lamely.
"And I am Jack." Jack introduced himself, since it seemed as if Brock forgot
about him.
Sam remained quiet, still staring at Brock, something that was beginning to
unnerve him.
Jack turned to Brock and whispered, "what are you going to do about this Brock?
I do not think Pierce would take kindly to one of his best agents having a
black little sister."
Brock dragged a hand down his face, releasing a huge sigh. "What choice do I
really have?"
Suddenly a little voice piped up.
"You need to identify the bodies."
Both men's eyes snapped to Sam, who was staring up at them with the saddest
pair of eyes Brock had ever seen.
"How are you feeling?" Brock asked, walking closer to the bed.
Sam sniffled and laid down, pulling the blankets up to her chin.  Brock sat in
the chair by the bedside and leaned forward so that he could look at her eyes,
even if she not looking at him.
"They said that I couldn't do it because, I am too young." She sniffled again,
this time tears escaped her eyes.
"Hey, it's ok," Brock grabbed some tissues from the box on the bedside table
and wiped her tears, "you're going to be ok." That was the wrong thing to say
as Sam's face crumbled and she began sobbing quietly, causing the two grown ass
men in the room to quietly freak out.
Brock spun around to look at Jack, eyes wide with terror. Jack violently
motioned for him to do something about the crying child. Having no idea of what
to do to get her to calm down, much less to stop crying, Brock began stroking
the dark unruly curls on top of her head.
"Sam, the thing is, up to a few hours ago I had no idea that I had a little
sister. So, imagine my shock when I am called, informed that my father along
with his wife, who I also knew nothing about were killed in a car accident
leaving behind a daughter."
Sam pulled the cover over her head and Jack rolled his eyes.
"Nice going Brock."
"Oh, fuck you!" He hissed at Jack. He turned back to Sam, rubbing her head
through the covers, "I am still trying to process everything, so please try and
understand that I am completely out of my depth here. I have never even had a
gold fish or a house plant, so I have no idea what I am supposed to do."
Sam lowered the covers so that only the top of her head and eyes peeked out and
looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, Brock smiled at her. 
"There are those beautiful green eyes that we have the same of."
He had the passing thought that she would be breaking hearts when she got older
and that he would break anyone who tried to break hers. That last thought he
would have to think on, having no idea where it suddenly came from.
"Your doctor told me that you're not eating."
"I knew about you." Sam hastily changed the subject, stopping Brock in his
tracks. She leaned over the side of the bed to stretch towards the bedside
table, wincing when she aggravated her injuries.
"Hey, careful." Brock reached out a hand to steady her when she sat back up
after retrieving whatever it was she wanted.
"Here." She held out her closed fist and Brock held out his open hand under it,
curious as to what she was giving him.
His eyes widen in shock when she moved her hand and saw the gold chain that
belonged to his mother. He thought he had lost it when he left home but
apparently not.
"I found it when daddy and I were remodelling your room for me. He told me to
keep it safe for you; that you would come back for it."
He looked at Sam and held out the chain to her, "how about you hang on to it
for me?"
Sam took back the chain and slipped two gold wedding bands - Brock had no idea
she was holding those- on it, hanging it around her neck when she was finished.
Something in Brock warmed at the sight of seeing her with his mother's chain
with his father's and her mother's wedding rings hanging around her neck.
"Now do you want to tell me why you have not been eating."
"Funeral arrangements need to be made."
Brock sat back in the chair, "shi-oot." He quickly corrected, "I actually
forgot about tha-wait a minute." He eyed Sam suspiciously. "I see what you're
doing; you keep diverting my attention from the question. Enough of that, tell
me why you have not been eating."
Sam pulled the covers back over her face.
"Sam, come on talk to me. I know that you are sad but you still have to eat."
She said something but it was muffled.
"What was that?" Brock reached for the covers and gently tugged on them, when
he was met with no resistance, he eased them down to her waist. "There, that's
better. I am sure you can breathe properly now. So, care to repeat what you
just said."
"I keep seeing them."
"Seeing who?" It was if someone had doused Brock with a Bucket of cold water
when it finally clicked. "You keep seeing dad and your mom."
Sam nodded, fat tears rolling down her face that Brock wiped away.
"If I so much as look at food, I feel sick. I remember all the blood and how
mommy looked weird when she died. Blood was coming out of her eyes."
"Fucking hell." Jack swore, but no one called him on his language.
"I managed to drag daddy out of the car, but he was bleeding from so many
places, he kept coughing up blood and a piece of glass was sticking out of his
neck."
"Dear god." Brock thought he was going to be sick hearing about the last image
Sam had of her parents. His dad.
"I just feel sick every time I should eat."
Brock placed a hand on her leg that was covered and rubbed it in what he hoped
was a soothing gesture. "I understand Sam, believe me I do. But you have to
eat."
She looked down at her covers and then raise her head to look unseeingly out
the window.
"Sam."
"Who am I going to live with now?" She asked sadly.
"With me." Brock said without hesitation. "Now tell me what you would like to
eat."
"I need to get my things from the-"
"Sam!” He said sharply and instantly regretted it when the little girl jumped
and looked at him, tears forming in her eyes. "Sam, you do not have to worry
about all of that. I will identify the bodies, make the funeral arrangements, I
will have the house packed up and have your stuff moved to my apartment. All
you have to do right now is heal and eat something."
"A milkshake."
"What?"
"I would like a milkshake please."
Brock looked at Jack who shrugged, "it's a start. I will go and get it and some
food."
They both watched him as he left and soon the newly acquainted brother and
sister were left by themselves.
Brock studied Sam, wondering what shit he was going to have to wade through by
turning back up with a black little sister in tow. He knew that it would make
no sense trying to keep her from Pierce but he also knew how ruthless the man
could be and having Sam with him was going to be a huge liability. But it's a
risk he was going to have to make because he was not going to abandon her.
"Where do you live?" The question brought him out of his thoughts.
"Washington D.C."
"Are you a cop?"
Brock laughed, "no, why do you ask that?"
Sam pointed at him, "because you have a gun." The answer was innocent and
matter-of-fact that it took a few seconds for his brain to register what she
had said and when he looked down, much to his horror his service weapon was on
full display from how his jacket had shifted when he sat down.
He quickly covered it up. "I am not a cop, but I do work in law enforcement."
"Oh, ok." Sam said softly before lying back down.
"Hey, are you in pain?"
"No, just sleepy."
"Rest, I will wake you when Jack gets back."
The room was quiet for a few minutes, Brock thinking that Sam had fallen
asleep.
"Hey Brock."
"I thought you fell asleep."
"I was about to but I wanted to tell you something."
"What is it?"
"It's nice to meet you."
Brock felt his face break out into a smile, "it's nice meeting you too." He sat
there watching as she slept, taking in her injuries and felt a fierce sort of
feeling rise in his chest that he recognised to be protectiveness of the
innocent little girl sleeping peacefully in front of him. He knew that should
he take her back home with him, she would not be safe, first because of her
skin colour and secondly because she is related to him. Pierce would use her to
keep him in line and under his thumb until he drew his last breath.
It was those thoughts that made him say what he said to Jack as soon as the man
stepped back into the room.
"We have to tell Rogers."
===============================================================================
His father and stepmother's funeral was held three days later, Jack being such
a big help in all the madness that would have surely driven Brock insane had he
had to do it himself with an equally grieving child glued to his side.
Brock came to realise that Sam would speak to only him and Jack. If she could
not stick herself to Brock, she could be found glued to Jack and as soon as she
got the chance she was back at Brock's side. During the funeral, they stood at
the graveside, friends and neighbours surrounding the two open graves, silently
crying as the caskets were lowered.
Brock was happy that the day was overcast as wearing a suit in his old town’s
merciless heat was just asking to die of a heatstroke. Sam wore a plain black
dress, her curls left out in a cascade down her small back, with a black bow in
it. The chain with the rings the only colour in her outfit.
They stood side by side, holding hands, Sam's grip on his hand steadily
becoming tighter until he looked down to see her silently crying. He released
his hold on her hand and picked her up, allowing her to bury her face in his
neck as she cried her eyes out, her tiny body trembling.
After the funeral, it was a rush to get the small two-bedroom house packed up.
Sam was responsible for packing her room, with Brock and Jack packing up the
rest of the house, asking if she wanted to keep certain items of her parents.
She kept her mother few pieces of jewellery, the watch she and her mother had
gifted her father with for his birthday the previous year and all the photo
albums and pictures they found. Everything else was packed up to be donated.
With one last look at his former childhood home, Brock climbed into Jack's car,
Sam strapped safely in the back with colouring and puzzle books to keep her
occupied for the long ass drive they had ahead of them. The plan of coming
clean to Steve, and hoping that all of them, Sam especially coming out of what
is going to be an epic shit storm unscathed at the forefront of his mind.
===============================================================================
It had been a few days since Brock had brought Sam back to his apartment in
Washington D.C., he had moved her into his spare room, which he made a mental
note of painting blue sometime soon to match her blue furniture. He was
thankful that it was the start of summer so Sam would not have to face any
awkwardness at transferring in the middle of the school year. 
The private school he had sourced for her, was near both the Triskelion and his
apartment. The school had begun its summer school programme and Brock enrolled
Sam, hoping that she would make some friends before the school year began.
All in all, the move had been smooth, however, he had yet to make it known that
he now had a younger sister living with him, aside from Jack no one else knew
and he had planned to keep it that way until they went to Steve. That part of
the plan did not work out so well.
Brock had been in the middle of making macaroni and cheese (heavy on the
cheese) and fish sticks for Sam's dinner when the doorbell rang. He wiped his
hands on a dishtowel and after checking that Sam was still engrossed with her
summer school home work in the living room, he went and answered the door.
His hear stopped when he saw who was on the other side of the door.
"Mr. Pierce." He was proud that his voice was steady. "To what do I owe this
pleasure." 
Alexander Pierce, head of H.Y.D.R.A., but known only to those who
were H.Y.D.R.A. smiled in what he probably thought was a reassuring manner but
Brock knew better and saw right through the facade.
"Please Brock, we are both off the clock. Call me Alex, all my friends do."
"Is that what we are? Friends?" Brock raised an eyebrow. 
Pierce laughed not even batting an eye at the question. "Well I thought we
were, but now I am thinking differently considering I had to hear through the
grapevine that you had a little visitor from out of town."
If Brock was another type of man, he would have broken out in a cold sweat and
gave everything away as those words left Pierce's mouth, he thought that he had
been discreet but apparently not discreet enough, instead he grinned and
scratched the back of his neck.
"I was going to wait until it was 'take your kid to work day' but since the
cat's out of the bag, why don't you come in and let me introduce you."
His heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest as he led Pierce to the
living room where Sam was still busy working on her homework. Brock saw the
exact moment when they turned the corner and stepped into the living room, as
Pierce registered that his best agent's little sister was of mixed race,
something that greatly disturbed him. There may have been, for a lack a better
term 'people of colour' within H.Y.D.R.A. who shared in this twisted belief
about a better, more orderly world if certain people and races did not
exist, but he still had a problem with their skin tone.
"Sam, sweetheart." Brock called her and two men watched as a little head with
wild dark curls spun to face them, green eyes wide with curiosity as they
caught sight of both him and Pierce.
"Come here," and when Sam walked over to him, he stood behind her, placing his
hands on her shoulders, "Sam, I would like to introduce you to my boss,
Alexander Pierce. Alex this is my little sister Sam."
Pierce smiled and Brock could tell it was a fake, Sam must have picked up on it
as well, because Brock felt her shoulders tense under his hands.
"Hi Samantha-"
"It's Sam." Both brother and sister said as the same time.
Pierce glanced up at Brock who stared back at him, his face giving away nothing
"My sincerest apologies Sam, it's so nice to meet you."
"You too." Sam responded.
"So, do you like living here with your brother?"
"Yes, I do."
"And where are your parents."
"Dead." Was the blunt answer.
Brock had no idea what game Pierce was playing, asking questions he already
knew the answers to.
Pierce was about to say something else when a loud rumbling sound came from
Sam's tummy.
She turned her head to look up at Brock.
"It's time to feed the beast." She said and Brock had to smile at her.
He looked back up at Pierce, "I was in the middle of making dinner."
"Ok, I will get out of your hair." He smiled down again at Sam, this time his
smile had a bit of malice in it and Brock tightened his grip on Sam's
shoulders. "Well Sam I look forward to seeing you again. I will see myself
out."
Sam and Brock watched him as he left, Sam only speaking once they heard the
door close.
"Brock you're hurting me."
Brock released her shoulders and grasped her wrist, pulling her over to the
coffee table where she was previously sitting. He grabbed her pencil and
notebook to scribble a message.
'GO AND PACK A BAG OF CLOTHES.'
Sam read it and looked at Brock. He tilted his head in the direction of her
room and she ran towards it. Brock went to his room and collected his bag that
was already packed, opening it and taking out the prepaid cell phone he had. He
opened the message option and typed a message to Jack.
'THE GAME IS ON. GRAB THE BEER AND HEAD ON OVER.'
Once the message had been sent, he pulled apart the phone and took out the
battery and sim card. He went back into the kitchen where he threw them in the
microwave and fried them.
Brock turned around when he heard small footsteps behind him and was greeted
with a note in Sam's surprisingly neat cursive hand writing. 
'WHAT'S GOING ON?'
Brock knew, he knew that Sam was no fool, no matter how young she was, so he
went over to her, crouching down so that they were at eye level, giving her
what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He took her notebook and wrote 'WE ARE
GOING TO MEET ANOTHER FRIEND OF MINE. YOU WILL LIKE HIM.'
Sam looked up at him, her big green eyes had worry swimming in them but she
squared her little shoulders and nodded. Brock kissed her forehead before
raising from his crouch. He took her hand and together they left his apartment,
using the back stairwell to the underground parking lot. Sam was confused when
they passed his car, but she kept quiet trusting him to do what it took to get
them out of whatever it is that was happening.
The walked out of the garage and out onto the street, avoiding the areas lit by
street lights until they came to a black non-descript Toyota SUV. Brock opened
the back door for Sam who climbed in.
"Buckle up."
"You don't have to tell me." Sam grumbled as she did as told.
They drove in silence, and in circles at one point. Brock constantly checking
the rear-view mirror to ensure that Sam was ok. She must not have been as
panicked as him or the driving around was soothing to her because upon the
tenth time checking on her Brock found her fast asleep. He shook his head in
wonder.
 Finally arriving at their destination, Brock pulled the car over to the curb
and got out, walking to the backdoor.
"Sam, sweetheart, you need to wake up. We are here."
Sam slowly woke up, blinking dazedly and then rubbing her eyes.
"Where's 'here?'" She asked around a huge yawn.
"My friend’s apartment. Come on, let's go up and meet him."
Brock grasped her hand once she was out of the car, together they walked into
the lobby of the apartment building, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor
where they met Jack and another man waiting in the dark corner at the end of
the other hall.
"Jack." Brock greeted his friend and turned to look at the other man. " Good
thing we had him change, because Rogers is going to kill us the moment he opens
his door."
"Nah, he won't just throw Sam at him. No one can resist those big, innocent
green eyes."
They looked at Sam who in turn was staring at the man who stood there obviously
listening to the conversation but not taking part in it. The man's eyes then
found hers and she smiled shyly.
"I like your eyes." She said before hiding her face in Brock's jacket.
Jack started snickering, while the man smiled gently.
"Thank you." He said, voice rough from disuse.
"No, just no." Brock began walking towards Steve's apartment door, dragging Sam
behind him. "You are too young to be liking anything about boys."
"Wait until she becomes a teenager." Jack still snickering, unhelpfully
supplied as he and the other man trailed behind them. "You are going to have
such a warm time beating off the boys with a stick."
"Good thing I have a .45 and a shovel." Brock shot back.
All four of the reached the door and Brock was suddenly feeling nervous.
"Too late to back out." Jack said, eyeing the door before them with
trepidation. 
Brock knocked twice on the door and they all remained quiet, hearing muffled
shuffling on the other side of the door before it swung open to reveal Steve
Rogers. He first looked at Brock, then he looked down to see Sam staring back
up at him, and Jack and some guy with a cap tugged low covering his eyes
standing with them.
"Ummm, hi?" He looked bewildered. "Is everything ok?"
"No," Brock answered bluntly, deciding to get straight to the point,
"H.Y.D.R.A. is still alive." Steve's eyes widened at the reveal and Sam's eyes
snapped to look at Brock, who kept a firm grip on her hand.
"Wha- how- what?" Steve stammered out, not processing what he heard.
 "H.Y.D.R.A. is still alive."  Brock repeated slowly, "and it is being led by
Alexander Pierce who has something big and dangerous planned, with Project
Insight."
"Ok, and you know all this how?"
"Because Jack and I are H.Y.D.R.A."
There, he had spoken the unspeakable and was waiting for the dead silence to be
broken either by Steve's million and one questions or by his nose being broken
by the man who crashed a plane and 'died' to wipe them out.
"You fucking Nazi." A child's voice hissed out and four pairs of shocked eyes
turned to look at Sam who was staring up at Brock with pure hatred. "You are a
Nazi!" She shouted, her voice raising in volume. "Let go of me! Let go of me!"
She tried pulling her hand out of Brock's relentless grip. "LET GO OF ME!' She
shrieked and Brock frantically looked behind him hoping that no one had heard
her yet.
He turned back to Steve, "can we please continue this inside, before she wakes
up the whole building?"
Numbly Steve stepped aside, allowing them to enter his apartment. 
Sam was still struggling to get free, so Brock grabbed her around her waist and
hauled her off her feet, carrying her into the apartment all the while still
kicking and screaming. Jack and the other man following behind them.
Steve closed the door and turned to face. "Ok, explain and start from the
beginning. And whose kid is that?" 
"She's my sister." Brock said between gritted teeth. Sam trying her best to
wiggle out of Brock's grip. He was thankful though that she had given up on
screaming her lungs out. 
"Sister." A light bulb went on over Steve's head as he remembered Brock finding
out that he had a little sister. "You have a black sister and you
are H.Y.D.R.A."
"Well, technically, not-" Brock grunted when Sam elbowed him in his stomach. 
"I am of mixed race. My mother was black and my father white, hence I
am mixed. Get it right stupid-ass."
"Language." Brock chastised before continuing, "and not anymore since I am
committing treason. Partly because of her." He indicated to Sam.
"Put me down!"
"If I put you down, do you promise to behave?"
The room was quiet as Sam contemplated. 
"Fine." She said petulantly. 
Brock placed her down gently, however, he was not prepared for the kicks and
punches she began raining down on him.
"Nazi! Racist! Asshole! Stupid head! I hate you!"
"Sam stop." 
"No! Do you see my skin colour?! Do you? You stupid Nazi!"
Brock grasped her arms and crouched down to her eye level which was a big
mistake on his part when Sam spat straight into his eye. There was a collective
gasp as no one moved or said anything, waiting to see what Brock was going to
do to a fuming Sam.
He stood up and calmly wiped his eye. The next thing everyone saw was him
grabbing Sam, lifting her and throwing her so that she sailed through the air
to land directly on Steve's plush couch. Sam bounced but was stunned for a few
seconds before she regained her senses and was about to shoot up off the couch.
"Oh my God! Brock!" Steve exclaimed
"Stay right where you are." Brock pointed on her, his tone and face serious and
Sam glared at him as she sat back down, turning her back to the men in the
room. "Your ass is in a time-out until we are finished talking." 
Sam flipped him the bird. 
"What have you been teaching you little sister?" Steve asked looking between
the two.
"Nothing, trust me. She was like that way before we met. Do not let her cute
face fool you."
"You cannot just throw a child Brock." Jack said.
"That's nothing. We rough house all the time at home."
"Don't you think we're getting off topic here?" A raspy voice said and Jack,
Brock and Steve turned to look at the man who had been quiet up till then so
they had forgotten that he was also in the room with them. 
"Right," Brock cleared his throat, "long story short: H.Y.D.R.A. is still alive
Cap. It did not go down when you did, but it survived within SHIELD and slowly
infected it from the inside out. Now Pierce will be utilizing Project
Insight to take out anyone who poses a threat to H.Y.D.R.A.'s ideals."
Steve let what was just revealed to him to sink in. "Do you have any proof of
all of this."
Brock and Jack glanced at each other.
"Please do not kill us."
Jack turned to the man who had accompanied them, "remove your cap soldier."
The man did as told and there was a hush in the room.
"Holy shit!!! It's Bucky Barnes!" Sam piped up.
"Language Sam." Brock rubbed his forehead, knowing that once this drama was
over and done with he was going to need a long vacation. "For the love of God
watch your language!"
"What the fuck?" Steve whispered, staring at his thought to be dead best
friend, who in turn was looking back at him as if he did not even recognise
him. "Why does he look like he's focused but not all here at the same time?"
"The result of torture and lots of brain washing." Jack answered.
Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his angry blue eyes zoning in
on Brock.
"The only reason you are not dead is because we need to stop H.Y.D.R.A. and the
only reason I am not going to kill you after this shit has been dealt with," he
pointed at Sam who was watching the entire exchange with wide curious eyes, "is
because of that little girl sitting on my couch."
"Fine by me."
"Great, now let's go." Steve grabbed his shield and was heading towards the
front door.
"Go where?"
"Tony's, we are going to need all the help we can get and Bruce, Natasha and
Clint are all currently there."
"That makes sense and I can leave Sam in the Tower, that way she will be
safe." 
"Yes, now let's go." Steve walked out ahead of them, Bucky following behind
closely, his eyes never leaving the blonde's back as something familiar about
him niggled at the back of his tortured brain, with Jack taking up the rear.
Brock looked back at Sam who had her back turned to him again.
"Come along Sam, we have to get going, I need to get you somewhere safe."
She did as told and was about to walk pass him when Brock stopped her.
"Sam."
She refused to meet his eyes.
"I know that you are angry and probably hurt right now, but I promise when this
is all over, I am going to do everything in my power to make things right with
you. Ok?" Brock pleaded with her, his heart-breaking that he had hurt her.
"Whatever."
it was not the answer Brock was hoping for, but he would take it. "Ok, good.
Now let's get you somewhere safe.
===============================================================================
Four grown men, two who were formerly H.Y.D.R.A. and one thought to be long
dead with a little girl in tow showing up at the Avengers Tower in the night
might have been an odd sight to any outsider looking in.
Predictably Bruce, Tony, Natasha and Clint were shocked at the information they
received (thought Natasha hid it well), the three men were also shocked to
learn that the little girl was Brock's sister.
"So, who is watching Mini Brock while we go save the world." Tony asked, "I
mean, I know I have a smart tower but I still do not feel comfortable leaving
her here by herself."
Everyone turned to look at him.
"Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Tony, you have a broken knee and a shattered wrist." Bruce pointed out, "You,
Bucky and I will be staying back to keep Sam company since you cannot go
anywhere, we can't have Bucky falling into the wrong hands again and the Big
Guy is not needed for this."
Tony looked as if someone said Christmas had been cancelled from the look on
his face.
"Fine, go have all the fun without me."
Natasha sidled up beside the wheelchair Tony was sitting and crouched down so
that she could look in his eyes.” When we get back how about you tell me all
about your invention." 
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Tony broke eye contact. "I have a
shattered wrist, and the doctor said no strenuous activity." 
"And we both know that is a load of bullshit you're spewing."
"Hey, no cursing!" Brock, Jack and Steve yelled, pointing at Sam who was
sitting at one the many computer monitors in the briefing room, completely
engrossed in an online puzzle game.
Tony laughed at Natasha who rolled her eyes.
"Sorry."
"Ok," Steve's Captain America voice sounded and everyone turned their attention
to him except for Sam who was too engrossed in her game. "Everyone knows what
they are supposed to do. Let's get out there and finally put this to rest. Go
get geared up."
Everyone began filing out of the room and Sam finally broke herself away from
her computer game to trail behind Brock.
"Brock." Her voice was tiny and he spun around immediately crouching so that
they were on the same eye level.
"What is it pumpkin?" He smoothed down her hair and she leaned into him,
wrapping her arms around his neck and hooking her chin over his shoulder.
"What will happen to me if you die?" 
He held her tighter, “that is not going to happen. I am coming back for you."
"You can't promise that!" Sam pulled back, tears streaming down her face,
dripping from her jaw and falling on her shirt.
He wiped them away. "I know I can't but I will do my best and if anything
should happen to me, Tony, Natasha, Bruce, Steve, Clint, Jack, hell even
Bucky will take care of you."
"You may be a Nazi, but I want you to take care of me."
Brock's heart broke and he pulled her back to him, crushing her tiny body to
his. He got up and she held on tightly as he walked towards the gear room, all
the while whispering soothing and words of encouragement that he would be
coming back to her. When he entered the room, he sat her down on a table right
beside some high-powered assault rifles.
"Brock, do you think it's such a good idea making her sit there?" Steve asked,
indicating the weapons on the table.
"I am not an idiot." Sam said, finally having gotten control over her tears. "I
am not going to tou- what is that?! It's so cool!" She pointed at a compound
bow, laying among the assault rifles on the table.
"Oh, you like it?" Clint walked up to the table, fully outfitted for the war
they were about to finish and picked it up. "Tony custom made it just for me.
Here hold it." He put the bow in Sam's hands.
"I thought it would have been heavy."
Tony rolled his wheelchair over to her, "I made it so that it was light as a
feather, so circus boy would not have any problems wielding it while in battle.
It still packs a punch when someone is struck by it thought." He boasted.
"How about when we get back, I teach you how to use it."
"Yeah, that sounds cool." Sam said as she examined it. "I just have one
question." 
Both Clint and Tony looked like eager puppies at hearing that and Brock knew
exactly what was coming.
"Why does it have to be purple?" 
Both men faces fell and Brock started cackling, moving away from them and over
to where the handguns were kept.
"What do you mean why is it purple? What do you have against purple?" Clint
looked offended. "It is a great colour, which happens to be my favourite and it
is the colour of royalty."
"Blue is better." Sam said with all the haughtiness a ten year could muster.
"Give me that." Clint took the bow from Sam, caressing it as if trying to
soothe its hurt feelings.
"I create such a magnificent weapon and you are more concerned with the
colour." Tony sniffed. "I am never making anything for you." He wheeled himself
away and over to Natasha to complain about the child who hurt his feelings.
"I am seriously rethinking leaving her here with him." Brock jokingly said to
Steve as he checked his guns and other weapons. "He's going to turn her into a
crazy weapons person."
Jack walked up to them, "yeah, instead of asking for Barbie dolls, she's going
to be wanting lasers for her birthday."
"Not helping Jack."
"Not trying to." He shot back, cheeky grin on his face.
"Alright guys," Steve spoke up and everyone quieted down, "this is it. Time to
eradicate this disease once and for all." He looked around the room and saw how
Sam was off the table, standing by Brock, clutching his hand so tight that her
knuckles were pale while Brock was running his thumb over them trying to soothe
her.
"It is going to be a long, hard and gut-wrenching mission, but we are all going
to so our parts, watch each other's backs and come back home. All in that
order. Let's go, we got someone who is going to meet us there."
Brock looked down at Sam who was looking up at him, tears in her eyes.
"I will come back to you, because I still need to explain why I joined
H.Y.D.R.A. and we have to get to know each other."
Sam nodded, "and if you do not come back I hope our parents ground you when you
get to heaven."
He smirked, "you think I am going to heaven?"
"Yeah, you are doing the right thing, so I think you will be allowed to enter
the Pearly Gates."
"Give me a hug Sam Rumlow."
He lifted her up and the siblings gave each other the tightest hugs they could.
"Now, be a good girl for the adults and do not let Tony rope you into any
craziness."
"I make no promises."
"Brat."
"Old man."
Brock boarded the quinjet and looked back at Sam until the door closed,
blocking them from each other.
The next few hours were some of the craziest and most nerve wracking any of
them had ever experienced. 
Sam sat glued to the t.v. watching as the shit hit the fan and as H.Y.D.R.A.
scrambled around like chickens with their heads cut off. Soon after Natasha had
leaked all S.H.I.E.L.D.'s and H.Y.D.R.A.'s dirty little secrets online for the
world to see. 
"Do you think we should be allowing her to watch this?" Bucky asked making
Bruce and Tony jumped.
"Wow, he speaks." Tony said, willing his heart to calm down.
Bruce pushed his glasses back up his nose bridge and looked at Sam, "do you
really want to tell her that she should not be watching this?"
"I honestly do not think that we can make that child do anything she does not
want to." Tony said and they all looked at her, watching as history in the
making unfolded before them again.
===============================================================================
The mission was going well so far without any problems.
Jack was with Natasha and Fury when he saw Pierce's fingers reaching for his
phone on the table and put a bullet through it. Natasha then put a bullet
between his eyes when Pierce pulled his gun and aimed it at Jack to shoot him
in retaliation.
Steve, Clint and Brock were able to switch out the chips in the helicarriers,
replacing it with the ones Fury had given them upon arrival. Agent Maria Hill
then sent the three helicarriers crashing into each other.
The problems began when the helicarrier Brock was on descended faster than the
other two, which resulted in him missing the opportunity of getting off it.
Steve, Natasha, Clint, Jack, Hill and Fury watched in horror as the helicarrier
dropped towards the Potomac River. As it descended sideways, Steve saw Brock
fell through one of the many broken windows, clearly unconscious before he even
hit the water. 
"Shit!" Steve dove out of the helicopter and into the icy water of the river to
rescue Brock. He grabbed him as his unconscious body was sinking down to the
dark murky depths of the river and brought him back up to the surface. 
"He's not breathing!" He shouted as Fury brought down the chopper to hover
above them, Jack and Clint grabbing Brock and hauling him on board, immediately
administering CPR.
Brock coughed up water and began breathing again, however, he remained
unconscious.
"We have to get him to a hospital." Clint said, feeling his pulse and how it
was weak. 
===============================================================================
An incessant beeping noise is what pulled Brock from the deep sleep he was in,
not to mention whatever it was that was currently wrapped around his head and
up his nostrils. There was also the smell of bleach in the air and he wondered
why he was smelling bleach in his apartment. He had stopped using it the first
time Sam complained of the smell making it difficult for her to breathe, only
to discover the next day at her doctor's appointment that she was allergic to
some of the chemical properties in it and if she inhaled enough of it, her
entire respiratory system could shut down.
He had promptly thrown out all the bleach and bleach based cleaning products he
had.
The other thing he noticed upon coming back to the land of the living was how
warm his side felt and a weight pressing down on his chest. Once he got his
open and they remained opened, he looked around and saw that he was in a
sterile white room, with sun shining through the blinds covering the huge
window by the bed. 
Wondering what was pressing down on his chest, Brock lifted his head a little
with great difficulty and saw a mop of dark curly hair that could only belong
to one person he knew.
"Hey." He poked at the head on his chest, voice raspy from disuse. "Hey."
"She just fell asleep, so more than likely she is not going to get up." 
Brock turned his head from Sam's sleeping form to Jack who was sitting in a
chair on the other side of the hospital bed.
"Sh-she shouldn't be he-here." Brock said, his voice breaking. "Bleach not good
for her."
Jack raised an eyebrow looking rather amused. "Trust me I know. And after the
screaming match she had with Rogers, I think all of New York knows that she is
allergic to bleach."
Brock dropped his head back onto the pillow. "What happened?"
"To you or with Sam?"
"Sam."
"Well, when Sam found that you had to be taken to the hospital, she did the
responsible thing and informed everyone that bleach affected her respiratory
system. Tony said that he would take a regular gas mask and modify it so that
it would keep out the scent of bleach." Jack chuckled as he remembered how
everything played out in Tony's lab. Everyone's head swivelling back and forth
as Sam and Steve argued.
"Steve, thanks to growing up with almost every illness known to man, he decided
to try and talk her out of seeing you while you were in the hospital. Trying to
placate her with words, saying 'oh, he will be home in a few days', 'he's
unconscious Sam, I don't think he will know you're there.'" Jack mimicked
Steve. "Oh, and the best one 'Sam you are allergic to bleach and the hospital's
air is filled with it so I am forbidding you from going.'"
"Oh my God." Brock groaned, "does Steve have a death wish?"
"Brock, you would have been so proud of her. Sam ripped into him like no
other."
"I can imagine."
"Sam started shouting, her voice getting louder and louder, until she went over
into the shrieking category, climbed in decibels in that category to the point
where I think only dogs could hear her and then Brock, do you know what she
did?"
"Do I even want to know?"
Jack sighed, "your little sister is dangerous and I pity the fool who tries to
make her do what she does not want to do. Sam suddenly went deathly quiet; we
all thought she had popped a vocal cord until she started speaking real low and
Brock let me tell you, she was menacing. She told Steve to either let Tony make
a mask for her and take her to the hospital or she would take the bus to the
hospital herself sans mask and possibly have her die from respiratory failure
thanks to bleach poisoning."
"She really said that?" Brock chuckled, only to groan in pain from agitating
his injuries.
"Yeah, she really wanted to see you and nothing and no one was going to keep
her from you." 
"So, I am assuming that what is currently poking me in my chest is her mask."
"Yeah."
"You know," a tiny voice spoke up surprising both men, "for someone who has
been asleep for three days, you sure do talk a lot."
"Hey, be nice, I am injured and laid up in the hospital."
Sam turned her head to face him and he had to stifle his laughter from how she
looked with the mask on her face.
"Go ahead, laugh. I dare you."
"Sorry sweetheart, you are not that scary with that contraption on your face."
"This contraption is what is keeping me breathing and alive."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic."
Jack leaned back in his seat watching as the two siblings bickered.
Sam's eyes went mockingly wide behind the mask. "Dramatic? Dramatic? At least I
am not the one who was 'princess carried' into the hospital by Captain
America."
"Please tell me he did not."
"He did." Jack said solemnly, "he grabbed you as soon as we touched down,
saying 'he still has information we need but most importantly Sam needs him'.
It was quite the sight to see, everyone on the emergency room came to a
standstill, the only thing missing was a white horse."
Brock chuckled at the image and looked at Sam, "I heard you almost throttled
him when he was trying to keep you away from me."
"Yeah," Sam reach up and bush some hair away from his forehead, "he was being
stupid, and I was a few seconds away from jumping him and scratching his eyes
out."
"Why are you such a violent little person?" Brock often wondered where she got
that aggressiveness from and decided that once he was healed he was going to
start training her to have an outlet for all that energy and if she learnt how
to defend herself in the process, well that was a bonus.
"Hey, when I get out of here, we are going to sit do and have a serious chat
about my past career choices."
Sam nodded, "but for now you need to rest."
"Are you going to stay with me?"
"I still have this contraption on my face, don't I? Besides if anyone tried to
make me leave, I would claw their eyes out."
Brock could not argue with that.
"Ok, my lil' crouching tiger, hidden dragon, sleep now and bodily harm later."
Jack watched as Brock ran his hand down Sam's sleeping head, drifting off into
sleep himself, a soft smile on his face seeing that the two siblings were
alright.
 
 
***** Who said I was asking? I’m telling you that you are mine. (Sam/Bucky)
*****
Chapter Summary
     Sam has no idea what she is in for, after she catches the eyes of the
     world's most feared assassin.
Chapter Notes
     So, thanks to this chapter, I have changed the rating from 'mature'
     to 'explicit.'
     I need to go to church y'all and get back some of my Christianity.
     *fans self* I can feel the flames of hell after writing this fic.
     Bucky is possessive and will do anything to mark Sam as his.
     Please remember, whenever you have sex, USE PROTECTION!!!
     I DO NOT own The Captain America series. I am only borrowing the
     characters in order to do something I consider fun.
     All mistakes made in this fic are mine, if you do see any mistakes
     please to GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     Work has been crazy and is only going to get crazier as we are
     working on a huge project, therefore, you may not see any new updates
     from me for a few months. I will try to squeeze something out every
     now and then but I make no promises.
Sam never thought that she would be fighting off advances from the Winter
Soldier; but here she was standing in his small but clean and well-kept
apartment in Bucharest where both her and Steve had cornered the elusive Bucky
Barnes after two years of chasing his ass around the world.
Steve and Bucky exchanged a few words and once Steve was satisfied that he was
not going to attack them or try and run away, he walked over to the back door
to call Tony to secure a ride home for them.
Sam had been taking in the aesthetics of the apartment when she felt eyes
burning through her soul and saw Bucky staring at her; or more like
appreciating what he was seeing as if he was looking at a fine work of art and
Sam raised an impressed eyebrow. 
"The fuck are you looking at like that?"
She saw the dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked at her, the slow wicked
smirk that formed on his face. Sam knew instantly that she was in trouble from
the very slow up and down look Bucky gave her.
"The finest piece of ass I have seen since, 1942." Bucky said bluntly.
"Hell no, you do not tear the steering wheel of my car out of my hands causing
my car to wreck, rip me from the sky and tear my wing from my back only to kick
me off the hellicarrier and then say that to me."
"I am sorry." He apologised and Sam knew he was being sincere, but the smirk on
his face and the glint in his eyes dimmed the apology by a lot.
Sam rolled her eyes and turned to Steve when he came back over to them; Bucky
putting on his innocent act that Steve gobbled up like Christmas dinner and Sam
had no idea who she wanted to slap more.
Bucky may have spent the last seventy odd years as a brainwashed, prisoner of
war to HYDRA, but he still had the same possessive personality over people he
considered his and once he set his sights on something or someone, he will not
stop until he has claimed it, or in this case, until he has claimed Sam.
Steve informed them that a jet was enroute to them and where they would be
going to meet it.
As they left the apartment, Sam walked ahead of the two men, all the while
feeling Bucky's eyes on her and while her mouth and head said 'no' she never
knew she would have such a hard time fighting off the advances of the Winter
Soldier, while her body was screaming for to have her way with him.
===============================================================================
When they reached back states side, Sam said her good bye's and went back to
D.C. only to open her front door three days later to see both Steve and Bucky
standing on her front porch; Bucky looked smug and Steve looked sheepish.
"I had business in D.C. and he wanted to tag along." Steve explained.
Sam crossed her arms over her chest, noticing how Bucky's eyes were drawn to
the swell of her bosom but ignored him or at least tried to, but she could not
help how her hormones reacted to being the sole attention of those sniper eyes.
"And what does that have to do with you showing up at my doorstep?"
"Bucky said he wanted to visit you and I figured it would be ok if we stayed
here instead of a hotel?" Steve ended his explanation as a question. "Bucky
could keep you company while I work." He suggested.
Sam wanted to slap the smug smile off Bucky's face at the suggestion and to
slam Steve's face into the ground for suggesting it in the first place. He is
best friends with the man from childhood, so he should know the inner workings
of Bucky and what the man thought every time he looked at her! However, being
the great friend that she is, Sam pushed the door open wider at that Bucky
entered her home, making sure to brush against her lightly as he walked passed
and Sam resisted the urge to wipe off the spot that he touched.
"Aren't you coming in?" She asked Steve who still remained on the front porch.
"I have a meeting to get to." He started backing up, his eyes flitting between
Sam and Bucky.
"Ok, have fun. See you later." Sam said instead of begging Steve to stay and
act as a buffer between her and his lascivious friend. 
"Bye guys."
They both waved as Steve left.
Sam closed the front door and turned to look at Bucky who was doing his best to
eat her alive with his eyes.
"Watch yourself." She warned and walked away.
"Rather watch you." Bucky all but purred.
Sam spun around and walked back towards him, murder written on her face which
Bucky smirked at. He was amused by this slip of a woman violating his personal
space in an aggressive manner and it made him hot. He wanted nothing more than
to push her up against the opposite wall and plunder those downturn lips.
"Barnes, if you so much as even utter one more suggestive innuendo, sentence,
word or even look at me in a less that platonic manner I will hurt you.
The smile that formed on his lips was downright filthy.
"I don't mind a little pain mixed with a whole lot of pleasure."
Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously, even as her insides burned from his words and
smile.
"I will end you Barnes."
"If you are to end me, I would not mind that one bit should it happen between
your legs."
"The history books had it very wrong." Sam said as she backed away from Bucky
and his filthy mouth. "You are no charmer, you a wolf in sheep clothing."
"All the better to eat you out." Bucky smiled sharply and Sam beat a hasty
retreat to her bedroom.
===============================================================================
It seemed as if the universe was in cahoots with Bucky and his sly self and
filthy mouth.
Anytime Steve came to visit her Bucky tagged along, all the while acting
innocent in front of Steve but as soon as he was out of ear shot, Bucky would
say the filthiest thing he could to Sam, who wanted nothing more to stomp him
into the ground, especially since her traitorous body would respond to his
words and she found herself many nights, with her hand as her only source of
pleasure, wishing it was someone else's hand or body part, with a solid weight
between her legs, pressing her down into her bed. 
If she helped out on missions, she and Bucky would somehow end up in the same
group without fail or worse, they would be teamed up together, something Bucky
took great pleasure in. 
He was a complete professional in the field, but once they were back on the
quinjet, Bucky would sidle up next to her and whisper in her ear, "the best way
to work off adrenaline would be very rigorous activity." Bucky's smile was that
if a wolf as Sam stared him down. "Care to work it off with me, we could
wrestle." He stepped closer to her, "I would not mind having you squirming and
writhing beneath me."
During movie nights, Bucky would plaster himself to Sam, something the others
noticed and would tease them for, Bucky took it in stride, laughing along,
while Sam was torn between punching him in his crotch and straddling him to
ride said well endowed crotch. He would always manage to brush his fingers
along her neck, arm, her thigh.
===============================================================================
It all came to a head one evening while Sam was in her kitchen eating a slice
of cherry cheesecake.
Bucky was staying with Sam while Steve was in town for some more meetings and
she found that Bucky was a great help around the house whenever he stayed with
her. He may have been a sly wolf but he was rather domesticated. He cleaned
every nook and cranny, he took over laundry duties and she always woke up to
breakfast, something new each day, she came home from work to a nice hot meal,
not to mention that her lunches were the envy of everyone at work.
She asked Steve about his domestic qualities and Steve informed her that since
he was sick majority of the time when they lived together, Bucky had to do all
the cooking and cleaning, something it seems that HYDRA was unable to get rid
of. 
Another thing Sam noticed was that Bucky never told her 'no.' Anything she
asked of him or told him to do, Bucky would do. This was a bit disconcerting
and Sam had to restrain herself from taking advantage of his kind personality,
only to be reminded a few minutes later what his true colours were when he
looks her up and down like his last meal and says, "you would be so tight and
wet around my cock."
While he said things that made Sam's blood race, he never laid his hands on her
in an inappropriate manner.
Bucky, however, apparently drew the line at eating cheesecake, something Sam
found out one evening when she came home with a small cheesecake from the local
pastry shop where she decided to stop on a whim.
He had taken one look at the sweet treat before him, folded his arms across his
chest, leaned back against the counter and said a curt 'no."
She chuckled in amusement, "why don't you tell me how you really feel?" She
teased.
Something she realised was a mistake when Bucky got a dangerous glint in his
eyes.
"I have been telling how I really feel." He growled and Sam swallowed. “What if
I told you that I want to throw you down on that exact table you’re eating at,
on your back, spread your legs and fuck you senseless”
Bucky levelled her with a dangerous look that made heat pool between her
thighs.
He stood up properly and began walking around the counter to where she was
seated on the other side. She watched him like a deer caught in headlight.
“I have been telling you that I want to rip open your blouse and suck on your
breasts, your nipples until your back arches and you scream in pleasure. I have
been telling you that I want to mark your neck, breasts, stomach, thighs with
my mouth.”
He came to stand behind her, caging her in with his hands on either side of
her. Bucky’s hands were about to leave dents in her kitchen table from where he
had a tight grip on it. 
Bucky leaned down so that he could whisper in her ear, "I have been telling you
since that time in my apartment, that I want to bury my cock deep inside your
tight cunt."
His warm breath tickled her skin.
"I have been telling you since you and Steve cornered me in my apartment, that
you are mine and I intend to claim you."
Sam spun around and she was met with hungry and predatory eyes and he looked
about ready to jump her.
"It is you who have not been listening to what I have been saying." Bucky slid
his hands from the counter to her thighs and squeezed them, enjoying Sam's
sharp inhale of breath. "Why don't you try telling truthfully what you want?" 
He looked smug and Sam knew that she was right where he wanted her to be. 
She licked her lips nervously and his eyes tracked it, just like the sniper he
was trained to be.
"I want all that. Everything you just said. I want to not be able to walk
properly when you are through with me."
Sam grabbed his shirt and dragged him closer to her.
"I want you to wreck me."
Bucky wasted no time in sealing his lips over Sam's or divesting her of her
clothing.
"I am going to make you scream for weeks of denying me, for ignoring me even
when your body was screaming for my touch."
Sam was busy pulling the button and zipper of his jeans pants and sliding it
along with his choice of underwear down his hips, over his glorious ass and
thighs that she could not wait to grind against. She grabbed his thick erect
cock, making him hiss at the sensation.
"I hope that you can deliver and that you are not all talk soldier."
Bucky grinned rakishly at her and in and instant he her on her back on the
table, gripping her thighs to draw her closer to the edge. He looked into her
eyes.
"Tell me if this is all talk." He then entered her in one swift thrust, causing
her back to arch and for her to scream in pure pleasure. Bucky set a relentless
and brutal pace as he pounded into Sam. His grip tight on her slender waist,
her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
Sam had one hand gripping the table and the other holding onto Bucky's
metal arm. She felt when he removed his other arm from her waist and brought it
down between them only for her to buck her hips when she felt his thumb
rubbing vigorously at her sensitive clit. 
"Fuck! Bucky, Bucky, Bucky!" She began chanting his name.
"Yeah, that's it doll, offer up yourself to me." Bucky leaned down over her,
taking a nipple in his mouth, alternating between sucking and nibbling on it,
further driving her crazy with pleasure. His thumb still driving her mad as it
rubbed her sensitive nub.
Sam felt that oh so familiar warmth pool in her belly bottom and she tightened
her legs around his waist.
"Don't stop."
"Never." Bucky knew she was close and he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss
and with one final thrust he fucked her over the metaphorical precipice,
feeling her walls clench tightly around him, Bucky followed her over that same
precipice, releasing his hot seed deep within her.
Once her walls had stopped clenching his cock, milking it for all its worth, he
went soft and gentle pulled out of her. Bucky felt a sense of possessiveness at
seeing some of his seed spilling out of her wet and oversensitive entrance,
using his index and middle fingers of his metal hand, he scooped it up and
pushed it back into her, causing Sam to shake and convulse around his fingers.
"Bucky," Sam moaned when he began to gently massage her clit. "Bucky, no more.
I am can't go anymore."
He smiled at his handy work and leaned over her well and used body, kissing her
deep and gently. 
"I know. We can go again later when you have rest up."
Sam laughed, "you sure are cocky."
"You weren't complaining a few minutes ago when my cock was making you scream."
"Oh my God, you are going to be even more unbearable now."
"Yeah." Bucky gave her one final peck on her lips. "But the sex will be
amazing."
Just then they heard the front door open and a voice call out.
"Sam? Bucky?"
Sam's eyes went wide. 
"Shit! Steve!"
Bucky immediately grabbed his discarded shirt from the floor and pulled it over
Sam's head, helping her to put her arms through the sleeves and pull it down to
cover her nudity. He then stood in front of her to preserve modesty right as
Steve walked into the kitchen.
"Hey gu-AHH!!!" Steve' scream was shrill and Sam actually felt bad for him.
"Fucking hell Bucky!!! What are you doing standing around naked?!"
"Well, I was having a very nice post-coital moment before you walked in and
ruined it with all your screaming."
"Post-coital?" The confusion was clear in Steve's voice. "With wh- Bucky no."
"Bucky yes." The asshole was smug.
"Sam?"
Sam peeked from behind Bucky's large frame to see a disbelieving Steve looking
back at her.
"Hi Steve."
He looked back at Bucky, an unimpressed look on his face.
"I am glad to see that somethings have not changed." He commented. 
Bucky looked at him, an innocent expression on his face that Steve was not
going to fall for.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." Bucky may have been a
master assassin, but even he could not hide that possessive glint in his grey/
blue eyes.
Steve shook his head, "you are something else Barnes and for the love of God,
put on your damn pants."
Bucky did as told, snickering, but not moving from in front of Sam, still
shielding her modesty from Steve's view.
He knew how Bucky worked and he may have spent the last seventy years as a
brainwashed, prisoner of war to HYDRA, but he still had the same possessive
personality over people he considered his and Steve knew that once he set his
sights on something or someone, he will not stop until he has claimed it, or in
this case, until he has claimed Sam; which looking from their state and
condition he already did. Sam had no idea that she had just sealed her fate by
giving into Bucky.
Steve crosses his arms, looking stern and Sam knew he was in Captain
America mode.
"I hope that you used protection and did not soil Sam's honour."
Sam wanted to snort at that until Steve's words penetrated her brain and that
one word jumped out at her.
'Protection.'
"Bucky," her voice was tiny. They had not used any protection.
"Just know that when Sam gives birth, you can name the child Steve or
Stephanie." That was Steve's parting comment. " You know, depending on the
sex." 
The front door closed signalling Steve's departure and Bucky turned to face
her, and instead of seeing a look of panic, horror or even regret on his face,
Sam saw a look of pure possessiveness and ownership.
"Fuck, I am hard again." He grabbed Sam's hand placing it over his steel hard
cock. "Thinking of you pregnant with my child," he slipped his hand under the
shirt she was wearing to place it against her flat stomach. 
"Bucky?" Sam saw the lust swirling in those steel blue eyes.
"That would show that you are mine, that we are together." He slowly pulled the
shirt over her head. His eyes raking over her body, stopping at her still wet
with his seed cunt.
"Buck-" Sam's voice caught in her throat when Bucky parted her legs further
open and stood between them, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants to allow his
straining cock its freedom to spring out the confined space. It was red at the
tip, precum leaking out of it as he slowly pumped it.
"Imagine me fucking into you while you're heavily pregnant with our child."
Bucky's voice was a low growl and Sam did not stop him as he sheathed himself
within her hot, tight and dripping wet cunt. "Fuck Sam," he dropped his
forehead to hers, "imagine a little child, the spitting image of you, with my
eyes." 
Sam was clinging to him, her nails leaving red crescent marks in his skin which
healed almost immediately. 
"You. Are. Mine. Sam Wilson." He emphasised his last words with thrusts and Sam
felt her walls clench tightly at his total and complete ownership and fell down
that dark rabbit hole as his hot seed was once again released into her
unprotected womb.
"Bucky!" She screamed, throwing her head back and Bucky bit the tempting skin
of her neck, the pain making her clench even more around him. She fell back
against the table, breathing hard, only for Bucky to collapse on top of her a
few seconds after.
"Sam," he swallowed, breathing hard in her neck, "Sam, you are mine. You hear
me? Mine."
She was his from the moment she had volunteered to help Steve search for him; a
person she did not know, aside from what Steve had told her and what she read
in history books about him. That alone sealed her fate from the start. Bucky
claiming her was just an added bonus. 
 
***** Back Against The Wall, Gun To My Head, Bullet In The Chamber (Sam/Bucky)
*****
Chapter Summary
     Poor unfortunate soul.
Chapter Notes
     TRIGGER: Dubious body touching which leads to thoughts of the threat
     of rape. Please do not read if this will TRIGGER you!!!
     Please note: Italics - flashback
     no italics - present day
      
     Hiiiii!!! Look a new chapter!!!! And yes, there will be a second part
     to this. I currently have an outline; I just need my life to calm
     down a little for me to write it.
     In addition, I am posting this after long days & nights working, so,
     if there are any errors please forgive me.
     I hope that you all love it and thank you for sticking around!!!
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to
     GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
It was a 'wrong place, wrong time' kind of situation. Sam was not even supposed
to be at work that day, but another waitress had a family emergency and could
not make it and knowing that Sam was a hard worker and needed the money, she
recommended Sam to take her night shift at the diner.
Sam already buried in school work, with papers due and exams right around the
corner but also short on cash, jumped at the chance for an extra shift and
extra money.
That is why she was there, that fateful night and that damning time when if
only she was a few seconds slower in exiting through the back door of the diner
which led to the alleyway to throw out the garbage, she would not have seen
what she had and would not be in the current situation in which she was now
trapped. 
 
FLASHBACK
It was nearing the end of Sam's extra shift, when she hefted the large bag of
garbage and went out through the backdoor.
"Need a hand with that Sammy Girl?" Joe, the owner of 'Alice's Diner' asked.
"Nah, I got this. Thanks though." She answered as the door swung close. 
===============================================================================
 
Looking back on that night, even though Sam regrets being a witness to the
horrific event, she was glad that it was her and not Joe, because if it was the
kind owner who took one look at the down on her luck girl and hired her on the
spot, then he would have been silenced permanently.
===============================================================================
 
Sam had just slammed shut the cover of the large garbage bin when she heard a
scuffle around the corner of the of the building. Thinking it was the local
teenage hoodlums again, she began walking towards the sound, knowing that they
would break up any fights once they saw her. For some reason, the local gang
members respected her and apparently Joe told them all never to mess with his
staff or customers so they never troubled her; always addressing her as 'Miss
Wilson.'
As she got closer to the scuffle, she heard a voice.
"No, please no, I am begging you. I have a wife and a daughter. I cannot leave
them alone. I won't tell anyone."
Sam wondered what the hell was going on and as soon as she rounded the corner,
her world forever ended.
There on his knees was a man, about fifty years old, hand raised in a
surrendered gesture, looking up at another man, his face pale with fear. The
other man who was standing, had a gun steadily pointing it at the begging man's
head. 
Sam's eyes widen at the scene and it seemed as if time had stopped; the man
pulled the trigger, there was a flash of light, a spray of red from
the begging man's head which painted the wall behind him as he dropped lifeless
to the cold, wet ground. Sam was frozen where she was, her eyes on the dead
man, until the other man shifted and her eyes snapped up to meet cold steel
blue eyes staring at her.
She was stunned to see how young he looked. His hair was scraped back and done
up in a bun, his face clean shaven, he seemed to be about 6' tall, taller than
her measly 5'1", so she knew he could easily overpower her. He was dressed in
what could have been black or dark blue jeans, but in the dim light being given
off the street light she was not sure. He had on a white undershirt with a
zipped up dark hoodie and over that was a black leather jacket. On his feet
were black boots.
She knew that thanks to her eidetic memory, Sam would be able to pick him out
of a line up, but his eyes, those cold steel blue eyes were scaring her. 
Knowing that she would be next, Sam slowly raised her hands, just like the dead
man had and when the man turned so that his entire body faced her Sam took a
step back. His entire body language and aura screamed predator   and Sam was a
little bunny caught in his deadly stare. 
The man took a step forward, so Sam took another back. Mentally calculating if
she would be able to turn, run and make it back to the safety of the inside of
the diner before the man could get to her. But she thought about all the
innocent people in there who might get caught in the crossfire if he came in
there looking for her. 
His right hand that held the wicked looking gun moved and Sam took off running.
She skidded as she turned the corner sharply, running as hard as she could pump
her legs, her breathing ragged and harsh in her ear and she was almost screamed
with relief when she saw the diner's back door come into view. Sam had her hand
stretched out, ready to grab the handle and rip it open, only for her fingers
to brush against the cold metal, before she could register that she had been
grabbed from behind, a few seconds later she was aggressively slammed into the
rough brick wall beside the door.
An arm was pressed against her throat, forcing her to raise her head only to
look straight into chilling blue eyes.
She wanted to scream and fight, but the press of something cold and sharp
against the side of her neck made her think twice about it.
They stood there, Sam with her back pressed against the cold, hard, unforgiving
brick wall, with the man pressed against her, his blue eyes staring with an
unmatched intensity down at her, and a deadly knife blade pressed against her
vulnerable throat.
"What did you see?"
Sam flinched at the sudden sound and realised that it was the smooth dark voice
of the man currently holding her at knife point. 
"What?" Her voice full of fear.
"What. Did. You. See?" The man growled.
"Nothing." Sam quickly said. 
The man chuckled darkly and the smile he gave Sam was anything but warm and
friendly.
"You really expect me to believe that?"
"It- it's the truth. I did not see anything." Her voice so soft, the man leaned
in a bit closer so that Sam could feel his warm breath wash over her face. 
"We both know that's bullshit," he eased back and looked down at the name tag
on her apron, "Sam."
Oh shit. Not only did he know where she worked, but her name as well.
"Is it short for 'Samantha'?"
Sam remained quiet.
"Answer me!" The man demanded, grabbing her by the top of her full apron to
drag her away from the wall only to slam her back into it. Her head bounced off
it and her hands shot up to sooth the pain.
"Ye-yes, it is." Tears were streaming down her face, both from the pain and
fear.
"What is your full name?"
'What is his end game?' Sam thought as she said, "Samantha Teresa Wilson."
"Good girl. Now, let me ask again: what did you see?"
Sam knew that if she said what he wanted to hear she was as good as dead, so
she lied again.
"Nothing. I swear." One of her hands dropping from the back of her head, to
wrap around his wrist, hoping to loosen his unyielding grip. "Please, sir, I
saw nothing. Just let me go."
The man raised an eyebrow and let out a little laugh. "We both know that you
saw everything. I am sure that you could tell the police word for word what the
man said. That you could describe me to a 'T' now that you have seen me up
close and personal and that you would be able to pick me out of a line up."
"No! I wouldn't be able to. You look like every white guy I know. Nothing
special or distinctive about you."
"Wow, you sure do know how to make a man feel special Sam." He purred her name
in a sick imitation if a lover's caress, he slid the knife from her neck, up to
her cheekbone so that the knife's sharp tip rested below her eye lid.
"Now, Sam, why did you lie to me?" The man asked condescendingly, as if he were
speaking to a small child. 
"Because I do not want to die."
"But we all have to die sometime." 
"Please, sir-"
"Fuck." The man said breathy, "addressing me as 'sir' I am sure you're just
being polite like your mother taught you to be but you have no idea what
hearing you call me 'sir' is doing to me."
His words registered in Sam's fear addled brain and she recoiled, not that the
brick wall behind her offered her any space. Another thought, crossed her
mind, 'he is going to rape me.'
The man's smile was predatory and he pressed his lower half against her, making
her feel his erection through their clothes.
"I wonder, what would you do to keep your life. Hmm?"
Sam's eyes hardened. "Kill me."
The man barked out a laugh, "well this is a sudden change."
"I would rather die than allow you to rape me."
"Rape? Who said anything about rape?"
"Well that is the only way you would get what you want from me."
The man's face turned menacing and Sam's fear immediately returned.
"I am no rapist. Believe it or not, but with a face and body," he pressed fully
against Sam, her head just reaching his chest, "like mine, I do not need to
rape women."
With one hand still wrapped around his wrist, Sam brought her other hand down
between them to push against his chest.
"Please, I did not see anything. I swear. All I want to do is go back inside,
finish my shift,"-speaking of, why the hell had Joe not come out asking what's
taking her so long-"go home and continue studying for my exams."
That seemed to intrigue the man, "oh, a student? And what are you studying?"
Sam closed her eyes, a few tears escaping as she shook her head, wanting
nothing more than to escape this murderer.
"Answer me." The growled in her ear.
"Molecular biophysics and biochemistry with a minor in Russian."
===============================================================================
Looking back on that time, Sam now knew why he was asking so many questions.
What he was leading up to. At the time though, she was just too overcome with
fear to think about anything but getting away with her life intact. 
===============================================================================
He whistled, "well fuck, you are a smart lil' lady aren't you."
Sam was about to attempt another go at pushing the man away from her when the
sound of a gun being cocked froze them both.
"Step away from her right now."
Sam almost cried in both relief and fear at the sound of Joe's stern voice. She
managed to peek over the man's arm and saw that Joe had his double barrel shot
gun aimed at the man's head.
The man rolled his eyes but did as told, raising his hands and dropping the
knife, it clattered on the concrete of the alleyway. 
"Sam go inside and call the cops."
That was the last thing Sam wanted to do. She did not want to leave Joe out
here to the mercy of a killer but she slowly started moving, inching her way
across the brick building towards the back door. The man's eyes never leaving
hers and when she saw the smile that crossed his lips she knew trouble was
about to get to worse. 
Faster than either she or Joe could see, the man whipped around, punched Joe
straight in his face, knocking him out cold before he even knew what hit him.
"Joe!" Sam made to move to his side, only to come face to face with the
business end of the double barrel shot gun. She had never felt fear like what
she was now feeling from looking down into the dark abyss. 
The man stared her down before he lowered the gun.
"What did you see?" He asked again.
"Nothing." Sam responded.
Seeming to understand that Sam was not going to change her answer, he opened
the gun, took out the bullets, pocketed them and dropped the shot gun on
the concrete. Sam watched as the man turned and walked away, disappearing into
the shadows.
Later that night after Joe regained consciousness and they both spoke to the
police, Sam saying that she was too scared to register the man's appearance,
she went home to her shoe-box of an apartment where she pushed her study table
in front of the apartment door, placed her few metal cookware under the one
window in the apartment and slept in the shower in her bathroom with the light
on.
Meanwhile on the other side of town, in a luxurious penthouse, high above the
city skyline, the man from before sat in front of his computer; everything he
could find on one Samantha Teresa Wilson plastered across the screen. From her
academic records, to her parents and brother's death certificates, to where she
goes to school, to her home address, to the fact that she was barely staying
afloat with all the expenses she had from being a poor orphaned university
student.
It had been two months since that night, Sam had stopped looking over her
shoulder, jumping at shadows and felt comfortable sleeping in her bed with the
lights off. She had resigned from her job at Joe's, saying that she did not
feel safe there anymore, when really, she did not want the man coming back
looking for her and some innocent person getting hurt because of her.
Fortunately, one of her professors needed a teaching assistant and hired her
after she made mention of needing a new job.
It was already night, Sam had gotten home from a long day of classes and
teaching. She decided to put off studying for the night and instead took a long
hot bath. She exited the shower, got dress and called it a night.
A thunderstorm had rolled into town sometime during the night and a, sharp
crack of thunder had Sam flying awake in fright. She glanced out the window to
see silhouettes of the trees blowing violently in the wind and the lightning
bolts lighting up the dark night sky. She was about to settle back down when
something in the dark corner of her extremely small apartment caught her eyes. 
Very slowly, Sam reached for the switch on her bedside lamp, her eyes never
leaving the corner and when the room was bathed in the soft warm glow of light,
it was if one of her many nightmares had come to life. There in the corner
where her study table was, sat the man from the diner, -the killer- her mind
supplied unhelpfully.
The instinct to flee kicked in instantly once the man had vacated the chair and
just as she was about to scream, something metal clamped down over her mouth,
effectively muffling her screams. Sam grabbed whatever it was that was like a
vise over her mouth, only to discover that it was the man's hand.   Terrified
brown eyes met steel blue as they stared at each other.
"Well, hello there Darlin'. Fancy meeting you here."
Sam stared in horror before her instincts kicked in. She kneed him as hard as
she could in his crotch and when he reacted to the sudden pain, she was up and
off the bed and in three steps she was at her apartment's door, only for a
solid force to shove her into it, pinning her there.
"Well now, that wasn't real nice darlin'." That cold, cruel, mocking voice said
in her ear. "After I came all this way to visit you."
"How did you find me?!" Sam was terrified. "What do you want?!" She tried using
her hands to brace against the door to push him off her but to no avail, she
was effectively pinned to the door until her saw fit to release her.
"Just to chat." He said in her ear. "I am going to release you; are you going
to try to fight or escape?"
She shook her head.
"Use your words Sam."
"No." Her voice was small and watery.
The man eased his muscular bulk off her smaller body and she dragged in a deep
breath of air, slowly turning until she was facing him, her back pressed
against the door. With the man being so tall and still so close to her, Sam had
to crane her head back just to meet his eyes. They were the same steel blue as
that night two months ago, but here, in her apartment, they looked warm but
Sam knew it was just a trick of the lamplight.
"What-" her voice broke and she had to clear her throat and begin again, "what
do you want?"
His eyes roamed over her face searching for something; Sam was not sure what.
Sam flinched violently when he spoke and he smiled cruelly.
"As I said before, I just want to chat." He made it sound as if it was a
cordial visit. "How about we go and sit?" Sam wanted to laugh, that was not a
suggestion; it was a command.
She nodded her head, "ok."
The man stepped back and to the side so that Sam could walk pass him. She went
and sat on her bed, grabbing to pillow to hold against herself, as if that
could protect her. The man, thankfully grabbed her study chair and brought it
to the side of the bed closest to where she was. He turned it around,
straddling it so that his arms were braced against the back, the same gun Sam
noticed from the night when she saw what she should not have glinting in the
soft light when he crossed his arms.
"To answer your first question." Her eyes shot up from the gun to his. "In this
day of modern technology, it is not difficult to find someone. You're a smart
girl," to Sam, that little comment sounded like a big insult, "I had your full
name, where you worked and what you were studying in school. Using that
information, it was not hard narrowing down my search."
Sam remembered him asking all those questions and it dawned on her to he had
not forgotten about her; he was just simply biding his time. She had fallen
into a false sense of security, thinking that he did considering that he did
not come back for her immediately. 
"How did it feel?" His question brought her out of her musings. He was looking
at her; his facial expression one of opening mocking.
"How did what feel?" She was confused.
"Thinking that you were safe that you were finally able to start sleeping in
your bed again with the lights off?"
Sam felt her blood run cold at those words. He had been watching her all this
time. He knew where she was all this time, just watching her. What for?
"You should ask yourself, 'I wonder if he was every in my apartment while I was
out? While I was showering? While I was sleeping?'"
"You said that you wanted to chat." Her mind was racing and she felt sick from
the terror coursing through her body.
"I do." The man sat up, resting his gun on the bed, causing Sam to draw her
knees up to her chest as he took off his leather jacket and threw it down by
the foot of her bed. "I need to get comfortable, because this is going to be a
lengthy chat." He explained then tilted his head, looking off to the side
before he looked back at her, a sly smile on his face, "or maybe not,
considering who holds all the power here."
He was playing with her; taunting her with her own helplessness.
"I watched you Sam. For two whole months, I watched your every waking moment
and not once did you make any attempt at informing anyone about what you had
seen."
"I told you that I did not see anything." Sam spoke up.
The man laughed, "and we both know that is bullshit. I know that you do not
want to die, that is the only reason why you have remained silent."
Sam did not say anything because that was the plain and simple truth.
"However, you saw something you were not meant to see and yes, you have
remained silent for two months, but for how long will you stay silent? A year?
Ten years? Twenty years?"
"To my grave." Sam said resolutely.
"Ah, but that is where you are wrong Sam." The man got up and smoothly spun the
chair around so that he could sit on it properly, bracing his elbows on his
knees, he leaned forward, effectively bringing himself closer to Sam. "You are
a good person and sooner or later, this terrible secret that you are keeping to
save your own life will begin to eat at you, and at some point, it will become
too much for you to bear anymore and next I will know is that my face will be
plastered across all the television screens from here to fucking Canada."
Sam was shaking her head.
"Stop that, you're making me dizzy." 
She immediately did as told.
"However, I have a solution if ever that day should come."
She was scared to ask but she had to know. "What?"
"Spousal Privilege."
Sam blinked. "What?"
The man rolled his eyes, "spousal privilege. Long story short, you won't be
able to testify against me."
"But, but," Sam's mind was again reeling, "we are not married."
"Yet."
His meaning registered in her brain and Sam almost ran for the door again.
"Your solution to keeping me quiet is to marry me?"
"Yes." The man answered as if it were that simple. "That way I can keep an eye
on you."
"And if I refuse."
That cold, menacing, killer look from the first night they met was back and he
slowly got up from the chair, took up his gun and using one hand, he braced
himself against the headboard of her bed so that he could loom over her, the
other pressed the gun in the underside of her jaw when she raised her head to
look up at him.
"Then I will drag you to 'Alice's diner' with me and make you watch as I
slaughter everyone in there."
Sam's heart stopped beating at his promise; not threat but promise.
"And I would leave you alive, so that the knowledge that you could have kept
them safe but didn't will stay with you for the rest of your life."
Tears began streaming down her face and he moved to wipe them away.
"Do not touch me!" She hissed, scrambling back on the bed, away from him and
using her blanket to dry her face. The man sat down at the edge of the bed, his
steel blue eyes watching her.
The room was silent for a few tense minutes before he started speaking again.
"This solution would not only benefit me."
"No, shit." Sam snapped, anger at being trapped in a no escape situation
overtaking the fear she felt a few seconds before. "You get to keep an eye on
me, make sure I remain silent and I get to keep my life."
The man smiled and to Sam if she looked closely it almost seemed real and kind
but she refused to do so.
He shook his head, "no, I meant financial wise."
Sam looked at him and he sighed.
"I looked into your finances and I can see that you are not doing too good for
yourself."
"That is none of your business."
"Well I am making it mine." The man snapped and Sam scooted back some more.
"Your parents died in a car accident when you were fifteen, leaving your older
brother Riley-"
"Do not say his name." 
The man continued as if he did not hear her, "to take care of you. They had no
life insurance, so he had to work three jobs to take care of you both."
It hurt Sam to remember all her brother went through, becoming a parent at the
age of eighteen when he should have started living.
"Only for him to be killed in a robbery at the convenience store where he
worked three months after you turned eighteen."
The tears started again and Sam sobbed, remembering that he was only working
that shift so that he would have the day of her high school graduation free. He
was so damn ecstatic that she had gotten into Yale University with a full-ride
scholarship and wanted to celebrate, but fate had other plans for them.
"Again, he had no life insurance so you were left on your own. The scholarship
money is good but not enough to sustain you. What you pay in rent, light,
water, heating, food and what other expenses you may have, I can give you that
as an allowance per week." He let that sink in and Sam slowly met his eyes.
"Marry me, so that I will have the advantage of spousal privilege and you will
be well taken care of."
If this offer was made for another reason other than using it to keep her mouth
shut about a murder she witnessed, Sam would have jumped at it, but she knew
her family would have wanted her stick to her morals rather than compromise her
integrity.
Her gaze was unwavering as she spoke. "Go to hell."
Sam had no idea how the man moved so fast. She saw his expression changed from
neutral to one of red hot anger and then she was suddenly on her back, staring
up at the fire raging in those blue eyes, the barrel of his gun almost touching
the lashes of her left eye, his weight bearing down on her.
"Ok, let me put it this way. You are going to fucking marry me. You have no say
in this; I am telling you."
"No." Her voice was small but strong.
There was a deafening crack in the small apartment and Sam's ear was ringing.
She wondered what it was then realised that there was smoke rising from a hole
in the mattress right beside her head, as well as from the barrel of the gun.
"The next one goes between your eyes." The man said coldly. "You will marry
me."
Sam wanted so badly to defy him, but her fear and desire to live was greater
and so she sold her soul to the devil.
"I will marry you."
"Great." The weight on her disappeared as the man got up, and slid his jacket
back on. She remained where she was, listening as he moved around. "Have your
shit packed by four o'clock tomorrow. I will be coming back to get you."
She listened as he opened the door and closed it. The ensuing silence was like
a hand around her throat choking her and Sam rolled over, pressed her face into
a pillow, opened her mouth and screamed as hard as she could. 
 
***** Torn & Bloody (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     He never thought he would have been that kind of a father (…but his
     anger got the best of him).
Chapter Notes
     RAPE!!! DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU!!!
     Rape/Non-con Elements!!!
     RAPE IS PRESENT IN THIS STORY!!!
     HEED THE FUCKING WARNINGS!!!!
     RAPE is present in this fic, please heed the warnings and steer clear
     if this will trigger you in any way possible or if it is not your cup
     of tea!!
     1) Since some readers do not read the tags to see the warning : "Rape
     of child by father" let me spell it out for you: RAPE OF CHILD BY
     FATHER. In other words INCEST.
     2) I thought we had this covered; yes, I am BLACK. Chill out; it's
     just a colour. Also, to the individual who brought up the topic of my
     skin colour, let me to tell you what offends people that actually has
     melanin in their skin: referring to them as "POC" THAT is offensive.
     3) This work is not one big old story. It is made up of MULTIPLE
     stories. Some stories may have a continuation, others may not. Some
     stories maybe explicit and others heartwarming. Some may contain rape
     and others consensual sex. But at the end of the day that is what
     they are just stories. I have read some extremely graphically
     described rape scenes that are way more fucked up than what I have
     written. That is why I put warnings left, right and centre. It is up
     to YOU if YOU read them and heed them.
     4) By the way, have I mentioned that I am black?
     5) And last but not least, to the same individual who thought it was
     a good idea to bring up my skin colour, please see below:
     "I don't think I can't continue subscribing to this story." - BYE
     FELECIA!!!!!!! Please LET the door hit you where the good Lord split
     you. If you cannot handle fictitious writing of another piece of work
     that is fiction as well, then you really need to steer clear of AO3.
     *Stage Whisper* There are fics on this site that contains bestiality,
     pedophilia and sex slavery. Just thought I should warn you.
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please to
     GENTLY & POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
To say Brock had had a bad day would have been the fucking understatement of
the year. After three years of stakeouts, high risk undercover missions that
put his best agent, Natasha in the hospital for three weeks, after countless
hours of pouring over video tapes, recordings, pictures no matter how grainy,
after three years of hunting the illusive Winter Soldier he and his team
finally had the fucker cornered, only for it to all come crashing down like a
wooden house on fire when they walked right into a trap.
Once the dust had settled, he found out that his right hand man, Steve Rogers,
was a mole the entire time, working with the Winter Soldier. Brock had never
felt so betrayed before or angry. His commanding officer, Nicky Fury sent him
and his team home to lick their wounds and then they would regroup two days
later to start a new man hunt.
That is why at 3:30 p.m. he walked into his house, when he would normally walk
in well past 10:00 p.m. his daughter already asleep with a note taped to his
bedroom mirror, informing him that dinner was in the fridge and to have sweet
dreams.
Brock couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how ecstatic Sam would be to see him
home much earlier. His sour mood was getting a little bit better just thinking
of all the things they could do together. Maybe go eat dinner, or see a movie,
or see a movie and then get dinner, or stay home, order pizza and watch a
movie. He was a bit confused, however, when he walked into the living room, to
see Sam’s backpack another one that he had never seen before, along with a
green plaid shirt thrown over it.
He went over to where the items were, took a closer look and realised that the
shirt belonged to a male. Brock looked around, there were no signs of his
daughter save for her backpack. He listened closely but heard no sound.
“Sam?” He called out cautiously, hand on his gun as he slowly went from room to
room, looking in them and still not finding his daughter. Looking at the
stairs, the only place to look was up. Brock, with his gun in hand, began
making his way upstairs. When he got to second floor landing that is when he
heard it. That quiet, pleasure sigh.
Brock went deadly still, his mind racing a mild a minute, knowing that his
fourteen-year-old daughter was not doing what he thinks she was. That is when
he remembered the male clothing and the other backpack downstairs. Silently,
Brock walked towards the only room door painted in royal blue and slowly opened
it a crack to look in and what he saw made him want to shoot something.
His dark mood instantly returned as he saw his extremely underaged daughter, on
her bed with some strange boy he had never met lying on top of her shirtless.
Sam was lying on her back, her legs spread to accommodate the boy’s slim hips
that were slowly grinding against her. They were locked in a slow, heated kiss.
Her skirt was rucked up enough that Brock could see her blue bikini underwear
from his place at the door. Her hands were running up and down his smooth,
unmarred, slightly muscular back, and his hand, his hand was under Sam’s
blouse, slowly moving and Brock knew exactly what he was doing.
Seeing nothing but red, Brock savagely flung the door open, not caring that it
violently banged into the door, more than likely leaving a mark in the wall.
The only thing he cared about were the two teenagers who jumped apart at the
sudden unexpected noise, looking like a pair of deer caught in the headlights
of a car.
Brock saw the exact moment Sam registered who had made that noise.
“Shit! Daddy!” She shot up off the bed into a sitting position, shoving the boy
off her so that he fell to the floor on the other side of the bed. He raised an
eyebrow, well that was new; he had never heard Sam curse before.
She was fixing her clothes, trying to save what little dignity she had left,
but it made no difference he had seen it all. He only cared about the boy that
was slowly getting up, looking pale as he eyed Brock.
Brock walked into Sam’s room, gun still in his hand, resting by his thigh and
knew the picture he painted.
“Daddy?” No doubt Sam saw it as well, and from the tremor in her voice, she was
scared that her father was going to murder whoever this fucking piece of shit
was for putting his hands on Sam. Upon closer inspection, Brock saw that the
boy looked much older than Sam.
“Tell me something young man.” Brock addressed Riley calmly and Sam’s eyes
widened, knowing they were in deep shit.
“Yes sir?” The boy would not look at him, one arm was across his chest, the
other at his side, gripping his jeans pants.
“Just how old are you?”
The boy’s eyes snapped to Sam and Brock snapped his fingers, causing them both
to jump.
“I asked you a question son.”
He took feral joy in seeing the boy gulp in fear, his green eyes wide.
“Six-sixteen sir.”
Brock nodded, “so, let me get this straight. You though it would have been a
good idea to have sex with a fourteen-year-old girl? To have sex with a minor
who just so happens to be my daughter?”
“Daddy, we were not having se-“
“Shut up Sam!” Brock roared and the room felt silent. He had never raised his
voice at Sam before, that was a first, but he felt all his anger bubbling up.
First from the failed mission and the betrayal and then coming home only to
find his underage daughter on her back with her legs spread for some guy two
years older than her like some common whore and he felt his blood boil.
The sound of Brock’s gun being cocked was loud in the spacious bedroom and if
possible, the boy became even paler.
“Now, before I pump you full of lead.”
The boy’s eyes snapped back up to Brock and he could almost smell the fear
coming from him, or it was possible that he had pissed or shitted himself.
“May I know the name of the boy who was just dry humping my underage daughter?”
The boy looked back at Sam, who looked just as scared.
“Hey!” Brock snapped, “quit looking at her and look at me. I asked you a
question. Now, unless you want me to shoot you, then call the cops, and make a
report that I came home to you trying to rape my child, you will answer my
fucking question!” He roared.
“Daddy! He was not-”
Brock’s eyes snapped down to Sam. “I said SHUT UP!”
Sam flinched violently, the boy making an aborted movement to touch her, only
to draw back when Brock turned his ferocious gaze on him.
“Child,” he addressed Sam, his eyes never leaving the teenage boy, “you are
just in as much trouble as your friend is, so it would be best for you to keep
your mouth shut.” Sam did as told, folding her lips, her eyes downcast and head
turned away from the boy.
“Your name now.”
“Riley, sir.”
“Riley.” Brock looked him up and down, taking in the bruises on his pale, white
neck. His hand grabbing Sam’s chin before he even knew what he was doing,
causing her to yelp in surprise as he turned her head up and to the side,
similar bruises on her neck. Letting go Brock once more turned his eyes to
Riley.
“You,” he pointed his gun at Riley, whose eyes widened, Sam wisely did not say
a word but she was hyperventilating. “Have five seconds to get the fuck out of
my house before I kill you.”
“Five.” Brock began the count down.
In the blink of an eye, Riley had raced from around the side of Sam’s bed, he
flew pass Brock, out the bedroom door, his footsteps could be heard running
down the hallway and then the stairs.
“Four.”
Sam shared a look with her pissed off father before she too was up and off her
bed, running the same path Riley just ran.
“Three.” Brock walked out the of room calmly.
“Riley!” Sam screamed from the top of the stairs as she ran. “Leave your
backpack! I will get it to you tomorrow!” She bare feet hitting the carpeted
stairs as Brock heard the front door open.
“Two.”
The door slammed shut, rattling a few picture frames on the wall as Brock’s
feet hit the last step and Sam slammed herself to it, turning around so that
her back was pressed to it, her arms flung out to the side.
Brock looked at her, as if she could prevent him from flinging that door open
and putting a bullet in the back of Riley’s head as he ran.
“One.” He finished his countdown coolly, eyeing his daughter up and down.
Father and daughter stared at each for a long moment, neither one moving, the
encompassing silence only broken by Sam’s harsh panting.
“I suggest you drink some water before you start coughing.” Brock said as he
put the safety on his gun and holstered it. He turned away, about to make his
way somewhere away from his daughter for the time being until he cooled down.
“Why?”
He turned back to her. “What?”
“Why did you have to do that?” Sam looked stricken.
Brock turned fully to look at is daughter, “are you really asking why I
threatened a sixteen-year-old boy who I came home to find have clothed sex with
my fourteen-year-old daughter? Are you reallyasking me that Samantha?”
“We were not having sex!” Sam screamed at her father.
“Not yet, you weren’t. Only God knows what I would have come home to if I had
come home ten minutes later. Hell, I might not have even known that someone had
statutory raped you, if I had not come home.”
“Riley would never rape me! He would never do something like that!”
Brock remembered Steve’s betrayal and his face darkened with anger Sam thought
was directed at her from the way she pressed herself into the door, her eyes
wide with fear.
“Never say never Sam; it’s the people closest to you who do the most damage.”
“Not Riley and besides, it’s not rape if I want it.” Sam shrugged so flippantly
that Brock felt his restrain snap.
In an instant, he was in her space, his fist grabbing her arm, dragging her
away from the door, his other hand snapped out and slapped her hard across her
face. Had he not had a grip on her, she would have fallen to the floor from the
force of his assault.
“Daddy!” She wailed, her hands covering her cheek as if that could take away
the sharp stinging sensation in her cheek.
“Listen here and listen well child,” he tightened his hold on her arm to the
point where he knew she was going to bruise. “I have never laid my hand on
you,” he stared in her fear filled dark brown eyes, tears running down her
face. “So, do not make this be the day that I beat the black out of you. Do you
hear me.”
Sam nodded.
“I asked you a question. Answer me.”
“Yes, daddy.”
Brock released her and she rocked back a little, trying to regain her bearings.
“I will be getting someone to stay with you from now on when I am not here.”
“Dad- “
“Do not argue with me.” Brock warned. “I am barely restraining myself from
hunting down that piece of shit and painfully castrating him.”
“Do not call him that!” Sam was angry, “he has a name; it’s ‘Riley.’”
“Well his new name is ‘dead if I see him again.’”
“Why do you have to be such an asshole about this.”
“Watch your language child.” Brock pointed in her face, the warning loud and
clear in his voice, but Sam ignored him, even going as far as to bat his hand
away from her.
“Mommy never would have acted like this.”
Brock regretted his next choice of words as soon as they were free of his
mouth. “Well tough shit since, she’s dead.”
It was as if all sounds ceased to exist as Sam looked at him in shock, her
bottom lip quivering and Brock felt like dog shit on the bottom of his shoe.
“Sam, honey I am so sor-“
“I wanted it.”
Brock’s face shifted from one of remorse to confusion, “huh? Wanted what?”
“To know what it felt like.” She stared up at her father, defiance blazing in
her eyes. “I wanted to know what it felt like to kiss someone, to be pressed up
against him.”
Understanding dawned on Brock as he looked at his daughter in a new light.
“Everything you saw up there Iinstigated, not Riley. In fact, he did not want
to do anything but homework. I pushed and pushed and pushed until he finally
gave in. I just wanted to know what it felt like daddy. It wasn’t going to go
any further than touching.”
Something in Brock broke and he felt something dark release within him as he
looked in his daughter’s brown doe eyes. He looked her up and down, taking in
her tank top and the fact that she did not have on a bra under it, her knee
length blue pleated skirt that up to five minutes ago, was rucked up around her
waist, showing off her choice of underwear as well as her smooth untouched
mocha skin.
Brock felt the events of the day catching up with him and hearing that
admission come from his daughter’s mouth; from the child he had to raise by
himself for the past six years who he thought he knew, well, if Brock was to
stand trial for the horrible act he committed during the next ten minutes, he
would have said that it was a moment of insanity that made him do it.
“Well, then sweetheart.” Brock slid off his jacket, tossing it on the hallway
table and then his shoulder holster. “If you want to know what it feels like to
be fucked, then who better to show you than your daddy?”
Sam shrank back a hearing those words and Brock was high with the knowledge
that he was putting the fear of God in her.
“Where are you going baby girl?” He walked towards her as she backed up.
Her eyes were wide and terrified. “Da-daddy what are you saying?”
Brock stripped off his shirt, bearing his chest to his young daughter. “You
said you wanted to know what it feels like.” A voice was screaming at the back
of his head to stop this; that he had gone too far, a voice that sounded an
awful lot like his dead wife which he ignore. “Why are you running scared now
Sammy girl?”
“Because you are scaring me daddy!” Sam wailed, almost tripping over her own
feet from walking backwards, her eyes never leaving Brock. “What you are saying
is wrong.”
“But you wanted this remember.”
Sam shook her head violently, “not with you!”
“Not with me, but you will let some older boy shove his hand down your panties
to feel how wet you are.”
“Stop talking to me like that.”
Brock laughed darkly, seeing that their little game of cat and mouse took them
back to the hallway by the stairs.
“You wanted to do adult things Sam, so guess what, you will hear adult words.”
“You’re scaring, I want my mommy.” Sam said before all hell broke loose.
She turned to run, with the intentions to escape whatever madness had overtaken
her father, but Brock lunged grabbing her, his arms wrapping around her slim
body, trapping her arms at her side, he lifted her off the ground.
“No! Put me down!” Sam screamed and struggled against her father’s hold.
“No, can do baby girl.” He replied, as he walked towards the living room. “You
wanted this.”
Sam screamed and struggled, scared that she was to become a statistic, like
those children she heard about on the news who parents did awful things to
them, when they were supposed to love and protect them. Determined not to have
that happen to her, she flung her head back as hard as he could, striking her
father in his nose. There was no crunch to show that she had broken it, but it
was enough for him to release her and she made her escape, planning to run to
her room and call Aunty Natasha.
Her fingers barely touched the bannister when Brock grabbed her by the back of
her tank top, pulled her back and threw her to the floor, effectively tearing
her top from the force. Before Sam had a chance to regain her bearings, Brock
straddled her back, his weight pressing her into the cold, unforgiving hardness
of the hardwood floors.
 Brock too far gone, ran his hands up her smooth thighs, pushing up her skirt
to expose her underwear covered bottom. He squeezed it and Sam wailed.
“Well, Sammy Girl, with a tight ass like this, I can see why your friend gave
into your pleas.”
Sam hiccupped, tears running down her face, dripping from her chin to wet the
floor. “Please, don’t daddy. I don’t want this.”
Brock paid her no mind as he began tugging down her underwear, revealing her
bubble butt, running his hands over it. “Running around in these short skirts.
I bet you flipped them up and flashed your ass at the boys, teasing them.”
“No!” Sam began fighting again, “get off me!”
He raised up on his knees, flipping Sam over on her back before ripping her
panty off her entirely, showing her intimate virgin area to him. “Tell me
darling, did your friend touch you here?” Brock touch her between her legs.
Sam squeezed her eyes shut tight, turning her head away from him as she felt
her father touch her in a way daddies were never to touch their daughters.
“No?” Brock removed his hand from her, to unbuckle his belt, unbutton and unzip
his pants. He removed his hard cock from his boxers. “Good, and sweetheart.” He
bent down to speak in her ear, “this is not going to be pleasant.”
He parted her legs further with his knees and drove into her small, untouched
and unprepared body. A scream ripped its way from Sam’s throat, a fresh wave of
tears running down her face as Brock tore into her body.
Sam found the strength to beat him with her tiny fists, but it did her no good.
Brock pulled out of her, just the tip of his cock remaining in her before
thrusting back in with an unforgivable force. He set a punishing pace and all
Sam could do was scream and cry, her hands covering her face as she felt pain
rush throughout her body and felt sick with it.
Lost in the haze of anger, Brock paid no mind to his daughter’s cries, not
caring that he was hurting her in the worst way a parent could ever hurt their
child. All he could feel was the tight heat surrounding him and he felt when
his orgasm tore through him, spilling his seed into Sam’s virgin womb.
It was after, when he had removed himself from her, when the rage clouding his
vision did Brock come back to his senses to find his fourteen-year-old
daughter, curled up on her side, her face turned away from him as she silently
cried. Her skirt rucked up around her waist, showing bruises on her thighs,
along with a mixture of semen and blood staining them and the floor on which
she laid.
Brock looked down and saw that his soft cock was hanging out of his pants and
immediately felt sick with himself. He wanted to castrate himself with a dull
rusty machete. He looked back to Sam who had not moved yet.
“Sam-”
She flinched violently at the call of her name and Brock wanted to kill
himself.
“Sam, we need to get you cleaned up.”
She was shaking and Brock got up, tucked himself back into his pants before
walking over to her and as gently as her could, he pulled her skirt down, and
with one hand behind her back and the other under her knees, he lifted her up.
“Don’t.” She said quietly.
“What?”
“Please don’t hurt me anymore.”
“Oh God, Sam, I am so, so very sorry.”
He carried her upstairs where he left her in the bathroom to clean up while he
did the same. When he was finished he went back to her room, where the shower
was still running.
“Sam?”
“Yes, daddy?” Her voice sounded dead, devoid of the sunshine that he could hear
in it every time she spoke and he knew that his wife was turning in her grave
and that hell was waiting on him when he died.
“Nothing, just checking.”
“Ok.”
Brock quickly changed her sheet and was just finished putting her favourite
stuffed toy back on the bed when he heard the shower turn off and the shower
curtain being pulled back. He made a hasty retreat from her bedroom, knowing
that she would not want to see him right this moment, probably never again.
===============================================================================
 
Morning came to soon for Brock and with it, the memories from the previous day
and the heinous crime he committed. Rolling out of bed he made his way into the
cold hallway, shivering at the temperature. Stopping by Sam’s closed door, he
tried to open it only to discover that it was locked. Sighing, Brock resigned
himself to finding out later if she was still in her room and had ran away. But
first he needed coffee and to beat himself to death with a frying pan.
Thirty minutes later, Sam came down to the kitchen, wearing one of her mother’s
old university sweat shirt and a pair of pyjama pants, with the print
‘Troublemaker’written all over it, that Steve had given her one Christmas and
Brock and to restrain himself from ripping them off her, remembering how he had
played them all, how he had played him.
He watched as she walked passed him, not greeting him, not looking at him to
the breakfast table by the window. She gingerly sat down, wincing as she did so
and Brock felt like shit for what he had done to his baby girl. Where did they
go from here?
Grabbing her favourite cereal and bowl, he walked over to the table, placing
the items down in front of her before going back to the kitchen island to get
his coffee. Brock settled in the chair across from her, keeping his eyes on the
newspaper he was reading and not on Sam who would not look at him.
Fifteen minutes had gone by and Sam had two bowls of cereal to match Brock’s
two cups of coffee before he broke the silence.
“Listen, Sam, about yesterday, I am sorry about what happened.”
He was shocked when Sam made eye contact with him, “why?” Her voice was hoarse,
from screaming and crying and begging. “You caught me in my room with a boy.
You had all rights to punish me.”
“Fucking hell, Sam.” Brock felt sick to his stomach. Did he really mess up his
daughter that much, that she thought him raping her was a justified punishment?
“Sam, no what I did was extremely wrong. You have to know that.”
“So, grounding me was wrong?”
A metaphorical record scratched in Brock’s head. “What? What are you talking
about?”
Sam, placed her spoon in its bowl, folding her hand on the table, she looked at
Brock with resolve in her eyes. “You caught me with a boy in my room yesterday
and you grounded me. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Brock tried to get a read on her when understanding finally dawned on him; she
was denying everything that had happened. “Sam, that-“
“Nothing happened.” She stressed and he saw tears form in her eyes. “I am
grounded end of story, nothing more to it.”
Brock wanted to die.
He wanted to die such a horrible death for what he had done to Sam and for what
she was doing right now; denying that her rape by the hands of her father ever
happened.
And most of all, he wanted to die for agreeing to it. “Ok Sam, I grounded you.
Nothing more, nothing less.”
***** Runner, Runner. (Sam/Kirill) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam fell in love with Russia (and a killer).
Chapter Notes
     Italics - Flashbacks
     Normal - Present day
     This fic has been in the works for a few months now. It came to me
     after a Captain America movie marathon with a friend, only for us to
     watch the Bourne Supremacy immediately after because it was on t.v.
     and Karl Urban is in it. :D
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please
     POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sam stared in well concealed horror as her co-worker, Dr. Bruce Banner showed
her the video that had captured her saving the life of another colleague, Bucky
Barnes, two nights ago.
The title of the video was: DR. SAMANTHA O'RILEY, TRAUMA SURGEON, IN
ACTION, showing her face clear as day, without one pixel out of place. The
video showed the aftermath of a horrible car accident and Sam pulling Bucky
from what used to be his truck. It showed her saving not only his life but his
left arm as well, which he sorely needed considering he was the only
paediatric cardiologist in their small town.
The video already had over ten million views, with people in the comments
hailing Sam as a hero. She read some of the comments, her heart stopping when
she read a one specific comment: "С любовью от России." She wanted to vomit
right there in the corridor of their small-town hospital. Two years of staying
safe, of starting over. Two years of staying off the radar and just because she
was doing her job, those two years were all for naught, thanks to this damning
video.
The video was captured and uploaded by Peter Parker-Stark, 15 years old genius
child of Tony Stark, the town's billionaire. Peter had no idea what how badly
he fucked up Sam's new-found life the moment he decided to make that video and
worse upload it to the internet for the world to see. For him to see.
No, Sam did not blame Peter for this. She knew that sooner or later, she would
have to run; she just did not know it would have been so soon. Two years ago,
she had fled the country she had thought of as her second home. Changing her
name and returning to the States, seeking refuge in the town where her best
friend was born and raised. Riley was the only person who knew the truth about
Sam. Why one day she just turned up out of nowhere, why she did not have a
social media account, or wanted her picture taken, why she kept to herself a
lot and hardly attended the town's social functions. Why she steered clear of
the town's bachelors namely, Bucky Barnes, Brock Rumlow - a sheriff's deputy
and Jack Rollins - a school teacher; all of whom showed interest in Sam. 
Riley was the person who knew her most deadly secret; he was the one who had
helped set her up with her new identity, telling her that it was safer to use
some truths than to make up a completely new story. However, fate was not
finished with screwing Sam over and decided that Riley was to die a young and
sudden death. He had a stroke while showering, fell, hit his head and died from
the complications that arose from all those external factors. That was four
months ago, and Sam thought her life could not get any worse; well fate showed
her didn't it.
It was the end of a long day and Sam rushed out of the hospital, across the
parking lot and towards her car. She had to leave, she had to get out of town
that same day. She needed to get home, pack the essentials, hit the road and
put as many miles between her and the small town of Water Falls. She was
cursing that she had lost a whole day, but she could not leave because over
sixty elementary school children were brought into the hospital with severe
food poisoning, in addition to twenty high school students who were injured in
a science experiment gone wrong. 
Sam had to constantly remind herself not to speed, the last thing she needed
was Sheriff Steve Rogers, with his puppy dog eyes and Adonis body stopping her
to find out if she was ok. 
She managed to make it back home in five minutes, without incident and as she
got out of the car, her head was swivelling, looking to see if he was going to
jump out of the rose bushes that lined the walkway towards her front door. But
there was nothing out of the ordinary. The street was quiet, a bit too quiet
for Sam's liking, because when things got too quiet, it meant that shit was
about to hit the fan.
Sam kept her eyes out as she opened the front door, knowing that it would take
quite some time for him to get to where she was, because he was half way
across the world, at least she hoped so. It had been two years, since she last
spoke to him, so he could have been anywhere; just hopefully not here. She got
the front door open and dashed into the house, slamming the door behind her and
locking it with the two dead bolts she had installed at the top and bottom of
the door.
When that was done, she went to her bedroom, going straight for an area in the
far corner and got down on her knees, removing the floorboards to reveal three
different passports, all with her picture but different names, not to mention
over one hundred thousand dollars in cold hard cash. Grabbing those and
throwing them into a backpack, next were some clothes, underwear, socks and
toiletries. Sam grabbed the letters that she had prepared since her first day
as the town's new Trauma surgeon, resigning with immediate effect; that one
went to Dr. Natasha Romanoff-Stark and another to Steve asking him to apologise
on her behalf for skipping out on the people she slowly but surely came to know
and care for over the two years she spent there. She left them on her bed,
where she knew they would be found. 
With that done, Sam grabbed her back, took one last look around her bedroom and
walked out. She had just entered the hallway when she sensed a change in the
normally warm atmosphere of her home and knew that it is too late. He had found
her.
It is especially confirmed when he stepped into her line of sight. He stood
between her and the front door; the still locked front door, his dark green
eyes focused on her, and a scowl on his face and Sam knew she was fucked.
"Kirill." She breathed, taking a step back.
"Samantha." It had been so long since Sam heard that deep accented Russian
voice.
===============================================================================
Sam was ten years old when she first visited Russia. Upon landing she instantly
felt in love with the country. She loved the place, the rich culture, the
language which she became fluent in by the time she was twelve.
===============================================================================
Upon hearing his voice, Sam instinctively took a step back; something Kirill
noticed, and he scowled even harder if that was even possible.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?" Sam's mind was racing, thinking of some way of getting out of the
house and away from the man standing before her. 
"Do not step back away from me and stop looking at me with fear in your eyes." 
Sam swallowed.
"Why do you look at me with fear?" Kirill sounded hurt. "Have I ever done or
said anything to cause you to be afraid of me?"
She averted her eyes. No, you never did. It's what I found that caused me to
flee. She thought bitterly.
"Answer me Samantha."
Kirill was the only person to ever call her by her full name, not even her own
parents who named her did so and any time he called her, she wanted to run to
him. But not this time, not when she knows the truth.
"Please."
Her eyes snapped back to his. She had never heard him beg. Not once in the time
they had shared with each other. He always had this calm commanding presence
about him. It was something she noticed the first night she met him.
===============================================================================
Sam is eighteen when she meets the man she will marry.
It was three months into Sam's medical school career, she was at the top of her
class and thriving in her second home country. The time was nearing mid-night
one Friday night, and Sam's eyes were feeling grainy from studying, yet she was
feeling too restless to go to sleep. Deciding the best way to expend some of
her restlessness energy was to do something, Sam donned what she called her
'Russian cold wear' and went out to buy some groceries at the store around the
corner from her apartment.
The gentleman who owned the store, Mr. Orlovis, knew Sam on a first name basis
and greeted her when she walked through the door. Sam smiled and waved,
grabbing a basket she went down the aisle that led to the ice cream. She stood
in front of the freezer, searching for her favourite brand when she found it;
on the highest shelf.
"Well fuck." 
Sam was just 5'1" and knew that no matter how much she stretched, her finger
tips would not even brush the edge of the shelf itself. Looking around, Sam saw
that Mr. Orlovis was no longer at the cashier, more than likely having gone to
the stock room and she was currently the only customer in the store. She sighed
in annoyance, resigning herself to getting the ice cream last when Mr. Orlovis
came back out and could get it for her. 
She was walking pass the liquor aisle when something caught her attention from
her periphery. Turning her head, she saw a tall gentleman looking at the
different selections of vodka.
"Hey, you're tall." Sam said without thinking, immediately capturing the
gentleman's attention. She smiled brightly as she approached him, his towering
height dawning on her when she had to stop a few feet away from him so that she
would not have to crane her neck all the way back just to meet his dark green
eyes, that seemed to pierce her soul.
'Yes Lord, I have found the man I am going to marry.' Her brain unhelpfully
supplied, it did not help that upon approaching him she could see that he was
fit under the dark wash jeans, white t-shirt, black hoodie and black double-
breasted pea-coat he was wearing.
"Не могли бы вы оказать мне услугу?" Sam asked in fluent Russian. "Мне нужен
конкретный бренд для мороженого, но он находится на самой высокой полке, и я не
могу его достичь. Вы можете получить его для меня?"
His face was blank of any expression as he looked at her, but he made a gesture
Sam interpreted as 'show me' and her smile if possible got even brighter. She
turned around and started walking back towards the back where the freezers
were, missing the appreciative look the man gave her, a wolfish smile making
its way onto his face, which suddenly disappeared when Sam turned to face him
upon arriving at the freezers.
"Это, пожалуйста." Sam pointed to the brand of ice cream she wanted. 
The man looked at her, his face void of any expression and then at what she
pointed to and back at her, and eyebrow raised.
"What?" Sam asked in her native tongue.
The man said nothing as he walked around her, Sam turning to see where he was
going. He stopped in front of the next freezer and met her eyes. He opened the
door, bent his knees a little and reached into the freezer, grabbing something
from the lowest shelf and straightened back up, all while still holding her
gaze. He then held out the object to Sam, showing her that it was the exact ice
cream brand, flavour and size that she wanted from the high shelf. 
"Wow, would you look at that." Sam was torn between palming her face and
laughing at herself. She was just damn happy that her mocha coloured skin hid
her blushing, but it just gave her a headache. "I had no idea this was down
there. Thank you." Sam said as she took the ice cream from the man and placed
it in her basket.
"You are welcome shorty." The man said in English both surprising and arousing
Sam when she heard his deep voice with a thick Russian accent. "We all should
aim high." There was a teasing glint in his eyes and Sam rolled her eyes.
"Make all the jokes you want; but you tall people should watch your knees,
because you never see us short people coming."
There was a hint of a smirk on the man's otherwise expressionless face and Sam
could not help but wonder what he would look like should he really smile.
"Your Russian is really good." The man complimented.
"I know and thank you. I have been coming here since I was a little girl."
"And you fell in love. Cold Russian winters and all." The man said more than
asked.
"Cold Russian winters and all." Sam said, smiling up at this stranger.
Just then Mr. Orlovis came out of the stock room and Sam remembered where she
was. 
"I have to go. I have to get this ice cream to my freezer and get some rest
before cracking open the books bright and early tomorrow again."
"You're a student?"
"A medical student."
The man's expression still not shift, but Sam could tell he was impressed.
"Well with my job, you might be treating me in the future."
Sam was intrigued, "oh, and what is your job?"
"I am in private security."
"Yup," Sam nodded her head, "definitely might be treating you. I have to go
now."
The man nodded his head as Sam walked away to the cash register, paid for her
stuff and then left.
It was only when Sam was putting the ice cream into her freezer that she
remembered she had not gotten the man's name and she doubted that they would
see each other again, because, let's face it, Moscow was a fucking huge city.
===============================================================================
"No, you have not." Sam finally answered.
"Then why did you run?" Kirill stepped towards her and Sam stayed where she
was. "Why do you look at me with such fear in your eyes?"
"You may not have done anything to me, but I know what you did to others."
A look of confusion passed over Kirill's face before it was replaced with a
blank expression.
"What are you talking about?"
Sam laughed in disbelief. "Are you just playing dumb or do you really not
know?"
The clenching of Kirill's jaw clued Sam in that he knew exactly what she was
talking about.
"What do you know?" 
Sam smiled mirthlessly, crossing her arms and walked into the living room,
Kirill walking silently behind her. She went and stood by the French doors that
led to her small but beautiful and well-kept backyard.
"I know that my husband was a Russian Secret Service assassin."
"When?" That one word was such a loaded question. 
"I found out two months before you left for that trip to South Africa."
Kirill's eyes narrowed, memories of that infamous job bringing back a darkness
he did not want to remember. "You waited until I left the country before you
ran." His voice accusing, and Sam wanted to laugh in his face. "Do you know how
I felt, coming home and not finding my wife, but some fucking cowardly letter,
saying that you wanted a divorce with no explanation whatsoever?"
Sam whirled on him, anger burning in her brown eyes. It was comical, the
significant difference in their heights, but even Kirill was not going to mock
his wife when she was this angry. He remembered the second time he met her.
===============================================================================
Kirill was on holiday. He had just wrapped up a job and the pay-out was a
king's ransom, so he figured he would enjoy some alone time. He was currently
in a private booth of a friend's club, enjoying the loud, bass thumping music
and the expensive liquor that he secretly still paid for even though his friend
told him many times not to.
He was scanning the crowd, looking for a potential bed warmer when he saw her.
The beautiful nightmare, with a smile that rivalled the brightness of the sun,
who haunted his dreams and waking moments. She was dressed in skin tight
leather pants that looked painted on from this distance, a red halter top that
made Kirill want to run his tongue over all the exposed skin. Her hair was
down, falling in a cascade of curls down her back, her face was void of any
makeup, not that she needed it and her lips was curved up in a joyful smile.
She was with friends, two guys and two girls and it seemed as if she was by
herself; something that made Kirill extremely happy. 
They all were currently were on the dance-floor and she was drawing the
attention of a few of the men around her and Kirill found himself on his feet,
walking in her direction before any of those pigs could touch her. 
Her back was to him, and she was dancing to the provocative song that was
blaring through the speakers. Kirill's eyes drank her in as he prowled towards
her through the crowd of gyrating bodies; a predator eyeing his unsuspecting
prey. When he was right behind her, Kirill gently grasped her hips and pressed
the front of his body to her back. 
Kirill felt her tense a little and turned her head to see who was behind her,
when she saw who it was the smile that came to her face sent a weird sort of
flutter through his stomach. She immediately turned around so that they were
face to face and she brought her hands up to rest on his biceps, as far as she
could reach comfortably with their significant height difference; something
Kirill was not going let prevent him from enjoying her body against his.
The song was still playing, and it was as if the music itself was flowing
through her veins as her body moved fluidly. Kirill was not much of a dancer,
preferring to sit back and watch others, but he allowed himself to feel the
music, and being an assassin sometimes meant adapting to sudden changes, so he
was able to move his body in time with hers. He felt as she breathed, the rise
and fall of her chest as it pressed against his. He moved one of his hands from
her hips up to her back and realised that she was not wearing a bra and he knew
that the look on his face was one of a predator. However, she did not seem to
care, from the smug smile on her lips to the way she pressed her chest to him,
allowing him to feel her hard nipples through the thin material of her top and
Kirill knew that if he had his way he would have fucked her on the dance floor.
They got as impossible as it sounded, even closer to each other, so much so
that not even the grace of God could pass between them. He had one toned thigh
between her legs and he could feel her grinding against it and he hardened even
more in his pants, knowing full well that she could feel his reaction to her
seduction. 
They were wrapped up in each other until Kirill noticed a guy come up behind
his dance partner. She slowed down her dancing to look behind her, only to stop
dancing completely and turned around fully, a look of annoyance on her face.
Her back was once more pressed to Kirill's front and he kept his hands on her
hips, glaring over her head at the unwanted disturbance.
The young man who interrupted them was clearly drunk out of his mind.
"Dude, I told you to fuck off from an hour ago!" 
Kirill heard her yell over the music and noticed that her friends had also
stopped dancing, watching the scene unfold before them but doing nothing to
intervene.
"You said you weren't dancing with anyone!" The guy yelled back.
"I said that I was not dancing with you! Now fuck off and leave me alone." She
turned back to Kirill, but he saw the look of outrage on the man's face and was
about set in between them, when it was as if time slowed.
He saw as the man reached out and grabbed a fist full of her beautiful, long
black curls and pulled viciously, causing her body to be dragged back and for
her to let out a sound of pain.
"Stuck up cunt!" He yelled, as Kirill was about to murder him right then and
there, but was stopped when she viciously elbowed the man in the throat causing
him to let go of her hair to grab his throat. She whipped around and punch him
square in the nose, Kirill knew she had broken it from the way it was profusely
bleeding and how it was now at an odd angle. He watched as she kneed him in the
crotch and when he dropped to the floor, she delivered one more vicious kick to
his midsection.
"No means no asshole!" 
The patrons around them clapped and cheered, but she paid them no attention as
she turned back to Kirill. She pressed her body to his and got up on her tip
toes, Kirill lowered his head so that she could speak into his ear.
"Want to get out of here?"
He nodded, and she signalled to her friends that she was leaving.
They exited the club to the cold Russian night, but Kirill noticed that it did
not seem to bother his companion. 
"I am Sam, by the way. Samantha Wilson." The young lady introduced herself, as
she walked beside him.
"Kirill." He said.
"Just Kirill?" Sam asked, a smile in her voice and Kirill saw her looking at
him from the corner of her eyes.
"Kirill Volk."
"Ah, that makes sense."
"What makes sense?" He asked, genuinely curious. 
"The way you prowled like a wolf towards me in the club."
Kirill felt shocked that she had noticed him, but managed not to show it.
"What does that have to do with my name?"
"Volk literally means 'wolf' in Russian."
===============================================================================
Kirill remembered very well all the moments he had with Sam since he met her.
He remembered their first time together; she told him that she was a virgin,
but she still wanted him to take her fast and hard and Kirill did not
disappoint. He remembered waking up the next day to find Sam admiring the
finger print bruises he left on her hips, arms, wrists and thighs in his
bedroom mirror. 
She had left some marks of her own, his back was scratched up and there was a
set of teeth marks on the junction where his shoulder met his neck. 
Right now, however, he was not remembering any of that as his wife screamed at
him. He felt anger coursing through his veins, but he was not a violent man
without reason and he would never hurt his wife, so he allowed her to scream,
hoping that none of her neighbours heard her. 
"Do you know how I felt, having to fuck my husband knowing he was a murderer
for hire?!"
"Lower your voice." Kirill hissed.
"Or what?! What will happen if I do not lower my voice Kirill?" Sam raised her
hands between them and shoved at his chest, barely making him move. He stood
firm. "What will you do to me if I do not lower my voice!" 
Kirill gave her an answer in the form of using his bigger body to back her into
the wall, grabbing her face and lifting it to his as he lowered his head,
capturing her lips in an intense kiss. 
Two years of not feeling his body against hers, of not feeling his power that
he could conceal when he wanted but she never wanted it concealed when he was
with her, pressed against her and Sam found herself responding to the kiss;
wrapping her arms around his neck as he slid his hands down her body, feeling
his wife again for the first time in two long years.
He hands circled her waist, moving down to her ass that he grabbed, bringing
her more into him, making her feel his hard manhood against her stomach. When
his hands drifted down further to the back of her thighs, Sam knew what he
wanted and allowed herself to be lifted, her legs wrapped around his slim
waist.
They were interrupted by a knocking on the front door, followed by a voice.
"Sam? Sam are you ok?"
They pulled apart.
"Shit," Sam said.
"Who is it?" Kirill asked, his eyes narrowed at the door.
"Sheriff Rogers." Sam answered, unwrapping her legs from around his waist,
Kirill reluctantly putting her back on the floor. Sam moved towards the front
door, unlocking and opening it to reveal a tall, blonde haired, blue eyed guy
in a police uniform.
"Hey, Steve. What can I do for you?" Sam looked him up and down, noticing the
bags under his eyes and their redness, not to mention the five o'clock shadow
he had. Sam knew how hard the car accident affected Steve; he and Bucky had
been best friends since they were in diapers and she knew that he had not slept
for the two days that Bucky was unconscious for. 
"Hi Sam," his smile was tired, but still bright. "I received a call from Mrs.
Cadbury, saying that she heard-" Steve stopped speaking when he caught sight of
Kirill. "Good afternoon." He greeted in what Bucky had called his 'cop voice.'
"Afternoon Sheriff." Kirill greeted.
Sam felt the tension in the room sky-rocket between the two alpha males and
rolled her eyes so hard, she swore she saw the back of her head. 
"Sam," Steve was speaking to her but his eyes were still on Kirill, "Mrs.
Cadbury said that she heard shouting. Is everything alright here?"
"Yes, Steve. We were just having a small domestic." Sam said, giving Kirill a
significant look.
Kirill snorted, small was not the word he would use to describe their exchange.
"Why don't you come in Steve." Sam moved to the side and Steve entered, his
eyes none too subtly looking at Kirill from head to toe. Sam closed the door
and turned to look at Steve. "Steve Rogers, this is Kirill Volk, my husband."
Steve looked at her in shock. "Husband? You never said you were married."
"Is married." Kirill said, voice clipped.
Steve side eyes him, but looked back at Sam for some sort of explanation.
"We are separated." She said, and it was not a lie; they had been separated for
two years.
"However," Kirill spoke up and walked over to Sam, invading her space, wrapping
his arm around her shoulders, he always loved how small she was. "I am here to
win her back." He stared down in her eyes as he spoke, hoping to convey that he
really meant what he was saying. "I was foolish and hurt her. But now I am back
to beg for her forgiveness and for another chance."
"Your accent." Steve was staring hard at Kirill, and Sam knew that look meant
trouble. "I cannot place it."
"I am Russian." 
Steve nodded, "huh-uh, you have a Russian husband. I guess that makes a lot of
sense why you did not give Bucky, Brock or Jack the time of day."
Sam wanted to smack Steve for saying that. Krill may not have look it and he
had great control over his emotions, but he was a jealous and possessive man,
not that she minded, but now Sam was going to have to explain that they were
only her friends to keep her husband from hunting them down.
"How'd you two meet?"
"When I was a medical student in Russia." Sam explained, Kirill's arm still
wrapped around her shoulder and much to her horror when she had shifted
slightly, she felt something hard poke her in her shoulder blade, only to
realise that it was Kirill's gun; he was wearing a shoulder holster and Sam
wanted nothing more than to push him away, but that would have raised even more
questions from Steve. "We met at a convenience store."
"And it was love at first sight." Kirill interrupted, smiling down at Sam who
glared at him.
"It was not love at first sight."
"Find then," Kirill looked at Steve, a smug smile on his face, "then it was
lust at first sight."
Sam elbowed him in his side, not that he felt anything and shrugged his arm
from around her shoulder. "And if I knew then what I know now, I would have
given you a wide berth that night."
Kirill's eyes narrowed as did Steve's as he watched them interact with each
other.
"Sam, if he is bothering you I can make him leave."
"I'd like to see you try." Kirill said.
"That won't be necessary Steve and Kirill stop, he is the town's sheriff."
Steve looked between the two, before his eyes caught something. "Going
somewhere Sam?"
Sam turned to see what he was looking at and saw her duffel bag, laying on the
floor behind her where she had dropped it.
"Not anymore."
"Sam, can we talk in private?" Steve's eyes flickered to Kirill and back to
her. 
"Steve, trust me I am good." Sam was tired, and she wanted no law enforcement
anywhere near her house while her husband was there. "You can go; Kirill has
never hurt me, and I am sure he's not about to start."
Steve looked ready to argue as his eyes kept flicking from Sam to Kirill and
back.
"Really Steve, I am fine." Sam urged.
"Ok," he said hesitantly, "well, all the best you two, just keep it down." 
Sam bid him goodbye and watched as he got into his car and drove away, closing
the door as his tail lights disappeared down the road only to immediately feel
the heat of Kirill's body behind hers and she had to restrain herself from
leaning back into that strong body that she loved (still loves). 
"Were you going to run again?" His voice low and dark and she felt a shiver run
down her spine. 
"I knew that you would have seen that video, so I had to go before you found
me." Sam turned to face him, pressing her back into the door. "But we can both
see how that turned out."
Kirill brought his hands up on either side of her, effectively caging her in.
"You should not have run in the first place." He growled, leaning closer to
her. "You know that I would never hurt you. Ever." 
Sam could feel her senses being dulled as she inhaled the familiar scent of her
husband.
"Kirill."
"No." He shook his head before pinning her to the door with his piercing green
eyes. "You do not get to talk. You left me two years ago and it nearly drove me
mad." His hands curled into fists on the door as he pressed his body fully
against Sam's who in turned grabbed fists full of the fabric of his shirt,
further anchoring them together. "I looked for you everywhere, if it had not
been for your letter, I would have thought that you were dead."
Sam averted her gaze at the anguish in his eyes and voice.
"Look at me." He commanded softly, and Sam did as told, welcoming the kiss he
placed on her lips. "I missed you Sam." He sealed his lips over hers once more,
this kiss more demanding and desperate. Sam returned it with equal force; her
arms releasing their hold on his shirt to wrap around his neck as she balanced
on her tip toes, pressing her soft, lithe body against his firm, lean
strength. 
Kirill's arms encircled her waist and heaved her up so that she had no choice
but to wrap her legs around his waist. 
"I missed you Samantha. Did you miss me?"
Sam read the underlying meaning of his words and grounded herself against him.
"I haven't been with anyone else in two years." She confessed, putting his mind
at ease.
"I am sorry Sam." He whispered against her lips. 
"That does not make up for the fact that you are a killer."
"Former killer." Kirill corrected. 
Sam, still in his arms, pulled back to look at him; confusion clearly seen on
her face.
"What?"
"I am officially retired. I no longer kill people for the Russian Government." 
"Just like that?" Sam was skeptical. "You were able to walk away from being an
assassin? Isn't there going to be some sort of blow back?"
Kirill shook his head. "Niet, we took care of that."
"We?" Sam's eyes widened, "you know what put me down." She could see that
Kirill was displeased with her command but did so anyway. When she was back on
solid ground, Sam crossed her arms over her chest, tilted her head back to
glare at her husband. "Start talking Kirill, what did you do?"
Kirill huffed out a breath. "My last assignment bested me. I thought I had
killed him in India, but I apparently killed his girlfriend instead."
"You what?" Sam's voice was barely a whisper. 
"Later when it was discovered that he was alive, I was sent to kill him; but he
was very resilient in staying alive." Kirill smiled a small fond smile,
remembering the one foe who was on the same level as him and who offered him a
second chance at life, that he grabbed with both hands. "We had a very nasty
fight, that ended in a near-fatal car crash which landed me in the hospital for
six months."
Sam was shocked to hear that he almost died and was in the hospital for so
long, with no one around him but nurses and doctors.
"The man, Jason, he came back. I thought he was there to finish the job, but he
told me that my employer was dead, he ate a bullet." Kirill laughed
humourlessly. "Coward." He spat. "He then asked me what I was going to do, and
I told him look for my wife. His face was priceless at the revelation that I
was married. I made sure that was never in any of my files."
Sam allowed a small smile to show.
"So, he offered to help you find me?"
Kirill shrugged, "pretty much. Although you were rather hard to find. We knew
you were in the States, just not sure where, until that video of you surfaced."
"That's how you got here so fast." Sam's mind was working overtime. "You were
already in the country."
"I was in Montana with Jason, where he's originally from."
"How the hell did you even get in here? I locked the door." 
"I have been waiting here for you since this morning."
"What?"
"You actually drove passed me when you left for work this morning. I was
sitting in the car across the road."
Sam went to look out the front window and across the road, sat a nondescript
blue Toyota Corolla. Sam can honestly say that she did not see that car in her
haste to get her shit and get the hell out of dodge.
"So," she spun back around to face him. "You waited for me to leave before
breaking into my home?"
"Yes."
"I am going to assume you went over this place with a fine-tooth comb then."
Kirill nodded, "I did. I wanted to know about the life my wife built without
me."
"And?"
"And you did quite well for yourself; building a life without me. You seem to
have people who care for you."
"I do. And it is also a small town."
Kirill knew where she was going with this. "News travels fast."
"Yeah, so my foreign husband showing up out of nowhere, after two years of me
being here by myself is going to spread faster than a wooden house on fire,
just so you know."
"People are going to be asking a lot of questions."
"I know.” Sam moved into the living room, falling heavily on the couch, Kirill
came and sat beside her, bending his knee and turning to face her, he left no
room between them.
“Nothing we can do about that. We just have to be careful about how much we
reveal.”
Sam laughed, the sound hollow and lacking mirth. “Yeah, we should probably keep
the fact that you are -were a killer for hire to ourselves. I do not think that
would go over so well with the people here.”
Kirill reached out, taking Sam’s hand in his, raising it to his lips he placed
a kiss on her knuckles. “Samantha, моя любовь.”
Sam released a breathy sigh, remembering how tender Kirill was with her, as if
he could break her and now she knew the reason for that.
He looked up at her, green eyes meeting brown and she felt her heart constrict
at the love shining in them for her.
“Kirill-”
“I love you.” He interrupted her. “I still love you; I never stopped.”
Sam opened her mouth to respond, when the ‘Kill Bill’theme song sounded.
Sighing, Sam retrieved her phone from her pocket and answered it, within a few
seconds she ended the call and rose from the couch.
“There’s a major emergency at work.” She explained as she walked into the
hallway to get her jacket and handbag, Kirill right behind her. “I have to go
and assist. It’s all hands-on deck.”
“Will you be coming back?”
That question stopped her in her tracks and she turned to look at her husband.
“Yes, I will return. What kind of question is that?”
“You left me two years ago. Forgive me if I am a bit skeptical.”
That was a valid argument in Sam’s opinion. “Well, I can’t really up and run
right now. Not to mention, my run-away bag is right behind you and I highly
doubt, you would just let me take it and run.”
“Damn right about that.” Kirill growled, “I have no intentions of letting you
run again.”
“See, so I will return. I cannot give you an exact time or day, because I have
no idea how bad the situation is yet.”
Kirill walked Sam to the front door, opening it for her.
“You can stay here if you do not have some place to stay in town or you can
find somewhere else. It’s up to you.”
“I will wait here for your return.”
Sam nodded, and made her way to her car. Kirill standing by the front door,
watching as she got into the car, reversed and drove down the road, until he
could no longer see her car lights, trusting that she would stay true to her
word and come back.
It wasn’t until two nights later that Sam returned to her house, tired, hungry
and in need of a shower. The house was dark and quiet when she made it inside,
no sign of Kirill anywhere. Slowly, she made her way upstairs and into her
bedroom, where she found him asleep in her bed. Trying to be as quiet as
possible, Sam went to the bathroom, stripped down and took the hottest shower
that she could manage. Once she was clean and semi-feeling like a human once
again, she went back to the bedroom, only this time to find Kirill awake and
sitting up in bed against the headboard.
“Hi, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Sam said, as she climbed into the bed on the
other side. Not once feeling weird that she was once again sharing a bed with
her husband.
“I have been awake since you drove up.”
Sam laid on her side, her hand propping up her head as she looked at Kirill.
Her eyes adjusted to the darkness looked at his fit upper body and felt a
stirring deep within her. “Lighter sleeper or your ears just that good?”
“A bit of both.” Kirill watched as she got settled on her side and could tell
from her voice just how tired she was. “Should I leave and sleep on the couch?”
“No,” she yawned, her jaw cracking. “You are already here, stay.”
Kirill nodded and slid back down the bed, so that he was laying on his back,
his hands folded behind his head. “How are you doing?” He whispered, not
wanting to break the quietness that had fallen over them.
“Tired. I am tired. Aside from over eighty sick or injured school kids, there
was a major car accident involving four vehicles. But we managed to save
everyone. No casualties.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” Sam’s voice was soft and tired. “Hey, Kirill?”
“Yes?”
“Can you hold me?” Sam licked her lips, “I had two long tiring days and I just
need to be held right now; just to be reassured that I got through it.”
Before she finished speaking, two strong arms wrapped around her, drawing her
to a warm, toned chest and she could not help but breathe in a scent that was
all Kirill. She rested her head on his chest, hearing his heart beat.
“Anything you ask of me, I will give you. Even if it’s my own life, I will give
it for you.”
Sam chuckled, “let’s not get dramatic; you just found me, let’s just take the
time and see where we go from here. No need to be making such declarations.
Kirill laughed as well, “ok, Samantha.” He kissed her forehead, “sleep now.”
Sam did not know what tomorrow held for her or the man she had ran from two
years ago; but right now, she would do as told and as her body and mind
succumbed to some much-needed sleep, she could not help the warm feeling that
was slowly reigniting within her chest.
 
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     All translations are from Google Translate.
     Kirill Volk (волк)...Literally Volk means a “wolf.”
     I have no idea what Kirill’s last name is, so I gave him one that I
     thought was befitting of him.
     Kirill is a Russian Secret Service assassin
     Google Translation:
     "Не могли бы вы оказать мне услугу?" - "Could you please do me a
     favour?"
     "Мне нужен конкретный бренд для мороженого, но он находится на самой
     высокой полке, и я не могу его достичь. Вы можете получить его для
     меня?" - "I need a specific ice cream brand but it is on the highest
     shelf and I am unable to reach it. Can you get it for me?"
     "Это, пожалуйста." - "That one, please."
     "С любовью от России" - "With love from Russia"
     “моя любовь” – “My Love”
***** Do You Like, Like Me? (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     Brock asks Sam if she likes him.
     Or likes, like him.
Chapter Notes
     The last few weeks have been crazy for me. So have some fluff.
     In addition, I just want to inform all the readers of this particular
     work, that next story I post might be a dark fic. Meaning there will
     be violence, rape and threats. I just wanted to give you all fair
     warning in case I do post something dark after this.
     But this fic is filled with nothing but fluff. :) Happy reading!!!!
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please
     POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
Brock laid awake, watching as Sam slept soundly beside him in their California
king bed. He still could not believe that someone as good as Sam could ever
give him a chance. Could ever love someone like him.
There were days when he swore he was dreaming and would wake up to face the
cruel reality that he was still all alone, working for an evil organisation,
long thought to have been destroyed.
He stretched out a hand, brushing Sam’s curls away from her face, gently
stroking his fingers down her cheek, and warmth blossomed in his chest when she
moved further into the touch, shuffling in her sleep, closer to his body. Brock
wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, feeling how her heartbeat
matched his and he smiled, placing a kiss on her hair.
“I still cannot believe that you are mine.” Brock whispered. “There are days,
where I cannot believe how far we have come. Seems like yesterday, we were
fighting on the 41st floor of the Triskelion.” He smiled, remembering the first
time Sam told him, her side of that epic adventure.
Sighing he looked at the sleeping woman, laying in his arms and began kissing
her face. He kissed her cheeks, her temple, forehead, nose, lips. He kept
kissing until Sam awoke with a groan.
“Brock?” Her voice was raspy with sleep. “Are you ok?”
Brock smiled at her question. Sam had such a big heart and he was amazed that
she was able to give him so much love.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He kissed her lips again and she sleepily kissed back. “I
just have a question for you.”
“Hmm?”
“Do you like me? Or, like like me?”
There was a moment of silence before Sam rolled away from him and the room was
flooded in a warm glow of light courtesy of the bedside lamp.
Sam turned back to look at him, a look a clear disbelief on her face. "Brock,
it's 3:24 A.M.," she said. "Did you really wake me up just to ask if I like you
or more than like you?”
Brock smiled sheepishly, “I did not mean to wake you actually. I was just
overcome with the urge to kiss you; but since you woke up I figured I would
just ask you. So, do you like me? Or, like like me?”
“Brock, sweetheart, darling, love, mi amour, light of my life, moon in my night
sky.”
He could not help the smile that broke out on his face from the term of
endearments that were falling from her lips. Something that happened when Brock
showed just how dim he could be, despite being a real fucking genius.
“We have been married for ten years. How in the hell can you ask me that?” Sam
spread her hands, looking utterly helpless. “I have been wearing this,” she
held up her left hand, the platinum wedding band with alternating diamonds and
sapphires glittering in the light, “for ten years. If that does not answer your
question, then I have to speak with the person who certified you as being a
freaking genius.”
“So,” the grin on his face was downright mischievous, “does that mean you like
like me.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “Yeah, for some reason I like like you.”
“Good to know.” He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “A guy likes assurance
from time to time, ya’ know.”
“And a girl likes her sleep from time to time, ya’ know.” Sam mocked.
“Right, sorry. Turn off the light and come cuddle with me.”
“You are insufferable Brock Rumlow.” Sam said and turned off the light, laying
back down in her husband’s arms.
“Yeah, but you like like me and you married me, so that means you can bear my
insufferableness.”
“Sleep Brock. Now.”
“Right.”
The couple wrapped in each other, soon began drifting off to sleep when the low
sound of twin wails steadily grew louder and louder.
Sam got up, turning on the light she glared at Brock. “You get Riley and I will
get Brody.”
“What?!” Brock was already up and off the bed, walking towards the door, with
Sam right behind him. “You know it takes a lot to calm down Riley when he wakes
at this time of night.” He complained as they entered the twins’ rooms,
separating to go to the cribs at each corner of the room.
“I know.” Sam bent over the railing and took up Brody in her arms. “But since
you robbed me of a few minutes of precious sleep, you get the honour of getting
that one back to bed.” She smiled sweetly at Brock, loving how he looked, clad
only in his sleep pants, with a six-month-old crying Riley cradled to his
chest.
Brock began soothing his son, while Sam had already quieted down Brody.
“You know something,” Brock said over Riley’s crying, “I only like you.”
“Huh uh.” Sam cooed at Brody who gave her a bashful smile. “Keep telling
yourself that, But I have video evidence of you trying to work up the courage,
just to ask me out for coffee.”
Brock was finally able to calm down Riley and both he and his brother were
places back in their respective cribs. Their tired parents heading back to
their own room for much needed sleep.
Once back in bed and wrapped again around his wife, Brock whispered in her ear
as he was falling asleep. “Hey, Sam?”
“Hmmm?”
“I like like you too.”
Sam smiled, “I know Brock. I have known since that day in Lagos when I helped
get that malfunctioning bomb vest off you.”
***** Break Me Down, Bury Me, Bury Me (Sam/Bucky) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam is in a marriage that there is no way out of, except in a body
     bag.
     Bucky has a secret and he will do anything for it to remain just
     that, a secret.
      
     Sequel to: "Back Against The Wall, Gun To My Head, Bullet In The
     Chamber."
Chapter Notes
     There is MARITAL RAPE in this fic!!!!
     RAPE!!! DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU!!!
     Rape/Non-con Elements!!!
     RAPE IS PRESENT IN THIS STORY!!!
     HEED THE FUCKING WARNINGS!!!!
     RAPE is present in this fic, please heed the warnings and steer clear
     if this will trigger you in any way possible or if it is not your cup
     of tea!!
     Marital violence is also in this fic, so, steer clear of it, if rape
     and violence of any kind triggers you.
     I have put in warnings left, right and centre. It is up to YOU, if
     YOU read them and HEED them.
     I know that there are assholes out there who like to stir up trouble,
     BUT, there are also individuals who are truly affected by what they
     read, so as I said before, HEED THE WARNINGS that are here for your
     own mental and physical safety.
     Italics - flashback
     no italics - present day
     Title: “The Kill” by 30 Seconds to Mars
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please
     POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
It had been one month since that fateful night and Sam was still not any less
scared than she was before. Every day she waited for the other shoe to drop,
but so far nothing happened.
===============================================================================
Bucky stuck to his word and collected her from her ratty apartment the day
after he had threatened her into marrying him. He whisked her away to his
luxurious penthouse that was to become her gilded prison. The car ride had been
filled with tension; Bucky sat cool as ever in the driver's seat, handling the
car as if it was an extension of him, while Sam sat shotgun, heart in her
throat, trying to keep from throwing up on the expensive upholstery. 
She remembered how her eyes had widened when she stepped off the private
elevator and into a room that she had only dreamed of. The floors were marble
and shone, the ceiling light reflecting off it. The penthouse was minimally but
tastefully furnished and decorated. It was all white with chrome accents and
Sam could not help, but feel as if she was in a showroom than a residence. It
felt cold; befitting of the person who lived there. Bucky led her up a floating
chrome and glass staircase, to the upstairs of the penthouse and down a long
hallway, where there was a wall of glass on one side allowing an abundance of
natural light to enter the eerily quiet place and on the other, a flawless
white wall, decorated with expensive works of art. As she followed behind
Bucky, Sam twisted her head, taking in the art on the wall.
"You do know that you can look at them as much as you want."
She had nearly jumped out of her skin, at hearing Bucky speak for the first
time since he collected her.
"This is your home now, so you can always come back and look at them."
Sam said nothing as she walked through the door he had opened, stepping into a
very lavish bedroom. The colour scheme was a mixture of beige and white, with
more chrome and Sam had a passing thought that maybe Bucky was trying to keep
his surroundings white since his heart was so black and his hands were stained
red with blood. The bed was huge, the bedding and pillows looked oh so soft,
and even though at that moment Sam wanted to be anywhere but there, in the
presence of a killer who would soon be her husband in name only, she wanted to
know just how soft they were. There were two beside tables on either side of
the bed, on which one of the tables was a lamp.
There was a small book shelf, with a desk and chair in one corner of the room
beside a set of French doors leading to a small balcony.
Bucky walked in and placed her duffel bag filled with books and her clothes on
the floor by her bed. 
"Since you are a student, I got the table and bookshelf for you. There is an
en-suite bathroom, there are fresh towels in the linen closet in there, as well
as your favourite body wash."
At that comment Sam looked at him, fear in her eyes, remembering that he
had known where she lived. Entering her apartment when she was not there (she
hoped not, but knew that question would never pass her lips), invading her
small, private space, letting her think that she was safe, that he had
forgotten about her.
"Get that look off your face." His face had gone blank, his eyes hard. "I said
that I would not hurt you."
"No, but you will force me to marry you and make me a prisoner." Sam snapped.
Bucky must not have appreciated her tone, or her back talk, because he was
suddenly walking towards her, anger evident on face. Sam backpedalled, her back
connecting hard with the wall as Bucky's hand slammed against it right beside
her head, causing her to flinch from the sound of impact.
"Listen here and listen well." His voice low and dangerous.
Sam held her head down in fear as he towered over her small frame and he
growled, grabbing her face, his thumb and fingers holding her jaw, giving her
no choice but to look up at him with wide frightened brown doe eyes as he
spoke.
"You are getting financial stability out of this arrangement and as for that
'prisoner' comment, if I wanted to, you would be locked up in some deep dark
hole, instead of living on the top floor of a luxurious penthouse, continuing
with your university education."
Bucky released his hold on her and took a step back. 
"I am going to make something to eat; feel to join me or you can help yourself
to whatever is in the kitchen." Turning on his heel, Bucky walked out of the
room, closing the door behind him.
Sam released the breath she was holding, sliding down to the floor as the late
evening sun shone into the room.
===============================================================================
True to his word, Bucky never laid a hand on Sam after that initial day. She
came and went as she pleased, Bucky never questioning her; however, that was
probably because he gave her a credit card, with the strict instructions to use
that for all her spending.
Sam was not allowed to use cash at all and Bucky did not have to explain that
this was his way of keeping track of her. At the end of each month, he went
through her credit card statements, looking at the places she had gone; which
were not much, just school, a few clothing stores and a coffee shop she visited
every morning and afternoon before her first and last class for the day. The
three hundred fifty dollars that she had previously spent each month before
accidentally getting on his radar, Bucky gave to her as an allowance, that she
lodged to the account he had set up for her each week.
In addition to money, he gifted her with the newest smart phone on the market,
with strict instructions to always keep it on ‘ring’ (except in class
and exams), answer when he called (if she was not in class, an exam or quiz,
the only condition Sam would not budge on) and he had turned on the GPS,
setting the phone so that she could not turn it off. Not that it was needed
that much, considering Bucky drove her around majority of the times when he was
not busy with work or doing his own thing. Those were some extremely tension
filled car rides, where not even the sound of the radio could dissipate. 
Since then, Sam began driving lessons to get her driver's license, with Bucky
saying that once she had it, he would buy her a car. 
Other than those moments, life was peaceful for Sam. She would be doing
homework at the kitchen island or reading a book in the lazy chair by one of
the many windows in the penthouse (she could only hide in her room so much) and
Bucky would come back, greeting her but ignoring her otherwise. It was as if
they were only roommates, which in a sense was true. 
Sam never bothered him, he never bothered her, and she was
extremely grateful that he kept his work out of the penthouse; never coming
back with blood on his face, his hands or in his hair like that one memorable
night, two weeks into Sam's permanent stay when he returned looking like an
extra out of a horror movie (she still has no idea how he was not stopped by
the police for looking like that) and she promptly threw up on the living room
floor. Small mercies and all that.
===============================================================================
It had been two months since that fateful night and Sam was still not any less
scared than she was before. Every day she waited for the other shoe to drop,
but nothing happened.
For the first time since her family died and left her all alone, Sam was not
worried about money. She was able to spend more of her time focusing on her
school work and she was able to have something of a social life. She made
friends with a red-haired girl by the name of Natasha and her boyfriend, a tall
regal looking young man, whom rumours were swirling about that he was actual
royalty, T'Challa. 
"Are you going to Clint's party on Friday?" Natasha asked while they were at
lunch sitting under a large tree. "Or do you have to get home to hubby?"
The large diamond on Sam's finger gave away the fact that she was married but
she had told Natasha and T'Challa a small lie that she had only married him for
his money and nothing else, that seemed to calm the demands of wanting to meet
her significant other.
"No, I am going. He will more than likely have to work." Sam answered
distractedly, while reading from one of her many thick text books.
"Good, at least I will have another set of hands to reign in this one when she
meets up with Clint." T'Challa said and Natasha flipped him off. 
Sam laughed, jumping a little when her phone started vibrating in her pocket.
Taking it out, she had to resist groaning in despair when she
saw 'Voldemort' flash on the screen.
"Yes?"
"Wow, what did I do after not being home for a week?" Bucky's smooth voice said
over the line, laughter in it.
Sam could not help herself, "do want me to list alphabetically or
chronologically?"
Bucky's voice was cold, "watch yourself Samantha. You do not want your two
friends overhearing something they should not."
That warning had Sam rising to her knees, looking around the area until her
eyes landed on a figure a few feet away in the parking lot across from the lawn
on which they were sitting. The person raised his hand in greeting and Sam
ended the call, rising to her feet, she all but ran over to Bucky.
"What are you doing here?!" She hissed, fear in her voice and eyes.
Bucky smiled down at her, his eyes hidden by aviator sunglasses. "Good to see
you too love."
"Why are you here?" Sam asked again, hysteria beating out the fear in her
voice.
"Because it is so fun seeing you get all riled up and bent out of shape." His
smile mean and sarcastic.
Sam reared back as if he had struck her.
"Chill out Sam, I was checking in on you. I was away for a week and unable to
communicate with you."
"Thank God for that."
Bucky sighed, "I have to get going now, see you later. Study hard."
He was about to turn and leave when a thought crossed her mind, "what happens
when you finally get caught and killed?"
"Do not worry about that. You will be well taken care of for the rest of your
life." He then walked off, leaving her there standing between two cars as he
walked towards his Harley, she watched as he swung a long leg over, straddling
it. He started the engine and before he drove off, blew her kiss.
===============================================================================
Sam returned from a day of back to back classes, feeling dead on her feet only
to be met with Bucky sitting in the living room with a strange lady
and gentleman she had never met before.
"Good evening Sam." Bucky greeted, all smiles to which Sam did not respond,
wondering what he had in store for her today. Her facial expression may have
exposed her wariness as the man spoke up.
"Barnes, let's just get this over with. I am sure the young lady has better
things to do than waste time in your company."
Sam had to agree with the man, but felt a boulder of dread form in her stomach
when Bucky looked her up and down, knowing that whatever bomb he was going to
drop was going to be catastrophic. 
"Get over here Wilson," he lazily beckoned her over, "let's make this union
official."
 It was as if the world came to a crashing stop around Sam. She could feel her
blood pounding in her ears and her vision was darkening around the edges.
"What?" Her voice sounded distant to her own ears.
The lady who was seated in the armchair across from Bucky, leaned back in the
seat, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head at Bucky. "Look at
what you did. You scared the poor girl."
"Not the first time." Bucky replied with a proud tone of voice
"You really have no idea of how to ease into things do you?" She continued as
if he had not spoken. "I have no idea how the hell, you have gone all these
years being a hired killer on Tony's payroll."
"Charm." Bucky flashed her a smile before turning back to Sam. "Come on Sam,
the faster you sign these papers, the faster you can go lock yourself in your
room."
That got Sam moving towards the sitting area.
"Sit here." Bucky patted the seat beside him, moving over slightly when Sam sat
down, something she was grateful for.
"Shouldn't there be at least a judge present for this to be legal?"
Bucky pointed at the woman, "Maria Hill, attorney-at-law and Justice of the
Peace, has the authority to marry us. James Rhodes, our witness for this. They
know all about our little arrangement, just FYI."
Sam nodded; she felt numb, as if she was in an ice-cold bath.
Papers -legal documents- her brain registered were placed in front of her and
she took them up, her hands shaking. She willed herself to calm down, just
enough to process what she was reading.
Bucky draped his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against
her shoulder and she leaned forward to get away from his touch. "They are just
your standard marriage contract." He leaned into her space, putting a pen in
her line of sight. "Just sign them."
She looked at him with as much venom as she could muster; telling him with her
eyes to go fuck himself and he smiled getting the message. 
"I prefer to read it first, even though I know I am signing my soul away to the
devil."
The smile on Bucky's face turned chilling, "and this devil still has the power
to make you disappear, so sign the fucking papers."
To hell with him, Sam thought, "after I fucking read it." She smiled saccharine
sweet, before resuming her reading, ignoring the whirring of the gears in
Bucky's metal arm as he clenched his fist.
"Hey," Rhodey called out, "stop that man. Let her read the contract."
Bucky threw the pen down on the coffee table, folded his arms across his chest
and sulked. Once Sam was through reading, she signed her soul and name away on
the dotted line, before passing the pen and contract to Bucky who signed and
then Rhodey who gave it to Maria.
"I will begin processing these as soon as I get back to the office." She put
the papers in her briefcase before looking at her and Bucky. "Well, you are now
husband and wife."
"Should we kiss to seal the deal." Bucky joked only to receive a stinging slap
across his cheek for his efforts.
The room was silent. Maria and Rhodey watching the two sitting on the couch,
wondering if this was about to be the shortest marriage in history. Sam
horrified at what she had just done and to whom she had done it, her hand still
in the air and Bucky with a stunned expression on his face.
"Shit." Sam cursed, grabbing her schoolbag and hauling ass off the couch,
intending to seek refuge in her room. She was halfway across the room when
Bucky called out to her, voice neutral and that scared her. She turned in time
to see something being thrown across the distance to her and on instinct, she
caught it. Looking properly at the item now in her hands, Sam saw that it was a
small, black velvet box and upon opening it, was a large square cut black
diamond in a platinum setting. Sam was speechless at the sheer size of the
diamond.
"I expect you to wear that."
Sam looked up at Bucky, his eyes hard and his cheek red from where she had hit
him. "It reminds me of you." She sneered, "black like your heart." With that
she beat a hasty retreat to her room, slamming and locking the door, and
throwing the small velvet box with the ring still on it in the middle of her
bed, forgetting about it until she went to sleep that night and saw it still
sitting innocently where she had thrown it four hours earlier. Her very own
beautiful personal leash, courtesy of a killer. 
===============================================================================
Sam was having a blast at the party. She saw a few students she knew from some
of her classes but never interacted with before until now and soon her
contacts' list had a lot more than just three phone numbers. She was currently
dancing with Peter Parker, the university's resident 15-year-old genius who was
invited to the party but banned from drinking anything stronger than soda;
while Sam stuck with water, since she was driving home. 
Peter was soon pounced upon by some of his friends and dragged away to do God
knows what and Sam took that as an opportunity to use the bathroom and check
her cell phone that she had left in her handbag along with her car keys and
credit cards. She was greeted with twenty-four missed calls, eighteen text
messages and twenty WhatsApp messages.
"Shit." The word felt from her tongue, heavy with apprehension as she hit re-
dial and put the phone to her ear. It did not even ring once before it was
answered.
"The fuck, are you?" Bucky' voice was as dark as his mood.
"A friend of a friend party."
"A party." He laughed derisively, "I have been calling you. Why the fuck did
you not pick up? You know to fucking answer you phone any time I call, with a
few exceptions. A party is not one of those exceptions!" He finished his
statement in a roar.
Sam could hear the anger radiating through the phone, but instead of answering
his question, she asked one of her own. "Why were you calling me?"
There was brief silence on the phone.
"What?"
"I asked why were you trying to call me?" Sam sat heavily on the bed, "you know
where I am at all times, thanks to the GPS on my phone and the tracker you have
on my car. So, what was so important that you all but came here looking for me
yourself?"
Her question was met with more silence.
"Bucky!" Sam felt her own temper rising. "Why do you continuously call me? You
know I am not going to talk. If I am not at the penthouse, then more than
likely I am at school. I hardly go anywhere. So, why all the phone calls?"
"I came back, and you weren't here."
Sam was thoroughly confused. It was not the first time that Bucky was at a job
and came back to an empty penthouse since he forced Sam into an inescapable
marriage. What was so different this time?
"And...?"
"I wanted to know if you were ok. I checked your room, and your back pack and
books were all there, so I knew you weren't doing anything school related."
"So..." Sam dragged out the 'o', "you were just checking to see if I was
alright."
"Yes."
Sam could not help but release a laugh that was empty and bordering on
hysterical. "Bucky, I have not been ok or alright since the night we had our
first encounter. I have not been ok, since that night you broke into my
apartment and threatened me. I have not been alright, since I was forced to
come and live with you as your forced wife." Her temper was rising and so was
her voice. "I am not ok or alright when I am away from you and that fucking
ivory prison, because I know I have to return to it and to you. So, to answer
your question, I am not alright or ok!"
"Sam?"
She whipped around to the sound of the tentative voice to see both T'Challa and
Natasha looking at her with concern on their faces and in their eyes.
Natasha stepped forward. "You good?"
Sam shook her head and disconnected the call. "I have to get home." She grabbed
her bag from the bed and stood up.
"Hey," Natasha stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, "you know if you ever
need to talk or a place to stay, you got both me and T'Challa."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks."
Natasha and T'Challa watched as Sam left, knowing something was not right with
their friend, but knowing she would not say anything until she was ready. 
Arriving at the penthouse, Sam walked into a dark entry way after exiting the
elevator, but not for a moment did she think that she was alone. 
"You didn't have to cut your evening short because me."
She turned around and saw the outline of Bucky sitting in a chair in the corner
where the solid wall met a wall of glass, the moonlight offering what little
light it could, but Sam was able to decipher how he was feeling from his tone
alone and he was annoyed.
"Well, just like everything else in my life, you were able to ruin it." She
headed towards her room, hearing Bucky's footsteps behind her. Upon entering
her room, she turned on the lamp, illuminating the room in a warm glow. She
threw her bag on the study table and toed off her sandals, kicking them under
the bed before turning to face him. "What?"
Bucky downed the rest of his drink, placing the glass on Sam's beside table
before eyeing her. "You keep saying that I ruined your life, but isn't it
better because of me?"
Sam scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and levelling Bucky with a
withering glare. "Yeah, it is much better being forced into a marriage with a
killer for hire, who keeps tabs on me at all times." Sarcasm dripped from her
tone.
"You say that, but look around you Samantha." Bucky waved around the
expensively decorated large bedroom. "Look at what you have gained; a life of
comfort."
"Is that how you justify holding me at knife point outside of my former
workplace? Do you think that just because you throw money at me, it erases the
fact that you invaded my home, cornered me and hurt me?" Sam was doing a piss
poor job of not raising her voice, but she was so angry and frustrated at her
current situation. "Just because you moved me out of a shabby, rotten apartment
at gunpoint I might add, and into a penthouse does not minimize your favourite
reminder to me that you have the power to make me disappear."
"You are raising some very valid points, yet," Bucky looked her up and down,
the smile blossoming on his face sending a shiver of fear down Sam's spine.
"That's a really nice laptop you have." He pointed behind him towards her desk,
where her text books, notes, flash cards and a new laptop laid. "That is
a $6,000.00 laptop that you bought not even three weeks after moving in here. I
know working adults with much inexpensive laptops." 
"I needed a laptop for school and since you are footing the bill, I thought 'go
big or go home' and since I can't go home," she shrugged innocently, "I
went big."
Bucky nodded his head at her vindictiveness, "ok, school means laptop and since
you work so hard, you should have the best. However, it did not even take you a
month before you started buying nothing but designer clothes. I read your
credit card statements."
Sam narrowed her eyes at that. "Again, you are footing the bill."
"Yes, darling wife I am." Bucky took a step towards her and she stepped back,
only to be brought up short by her bed. "I am footing the bill and allowing you
to continue living your life; so, what I need for you to do," his voice took on
a menacing edge, but Sam, even though she felt the fear creeping in, she kept
her glare up. "Is to stop complaining about me ruining your life, when you are
running around town spending my money and answer your fucking phone when I
call!" He shouted in her face.
"Fuck you and your blood money, murderer!" She screamed back.
Bucky snapped, he grabbed hold of her by the flimsy straps of her navy-blue
button camisole, dragging her towards him. Sam's hands flew up, trying to pry
open his fingers.
"Let go of me!"
He did just the opposite; choosing to give her a violent shake to stop her
thrashing. "I can be pushed only so far Samantha." His eyes bored into hers and
she glared back at him, not giving an inch.
"The same goes for me. If you hurt me, I will kill you!"
Bucky laughed mockingly, "I would love to see you try; considering who the
trained killer is here."
Having more than enough of his shit, Sam's hand cracked across his cheek hard
enough to daze him for a few seconds, which helped her to get loose of his
hold. However, he recovered quickly and made to grab her again just as Sam was
slipping from between him and the bed; though, instead of grabbing her arm,
Bucky grabbed her camisole and in the process of going in opposite directions,
the fabric tore exposing Sam's choice of bra.
Both her and Bucky stopped at the sound and looked down, seeing what had
happened, Sam brought up her arms, doing her best to cover herself from those
cold steel blue eyes that had yet to look up from where her clothes had ripped.
And when they did look up, she wished that they had not.
The look in the eyes of the killer standing in front of her, is one that she
had seen in the eyes of many men since the day she turned twelve. It never
failed to send a chill down her spine. 
Memories of that night in the alley, behind Alice’s Diner, when he had pressed
his body against hers, flashed through her mind and she felt ice cold fear grab
hold of her. "You-you said you would not hurt me." She hated how her voice
sounded small and wary.
Bucky still had a grip on the ripped fabric and his eyes lazily roamed her
exposed flesh when she spoke before meeting her again. "Yes, I did say that,
and I have no intention of doing so." He looked thoughtful for a moment,
"well, at least tonight I have no intentions of doing so physically. But..." he
trailed off, moving his hands so that he was holding her arms instead, giving
her no choice but to face him head on. "Let me ruin your life again for
tonight.” His smile was that of the devil. “You will be taking my name."
Sam's eyes widened. "No! I am keeping my own name."
"You think this is up for discussion?" Bucky's hold on her tightened. "I am not
asking you. I am tellingyou that you will be‘Samantha Barnes’. Keep saying that
I have ruined your life and I willlive up to that." He released her and walked
towards the bedroom door. "I will have Maria draw up the papers and you can
sign them tomorrow."  
He walked out, leaving Sam staring at nothing in her room. Smiling maliciously
to himself, when he heard the glass he had left on her bedside table shatter
against the wall opposite her bedroom door.
===============================================================================
Since that night, Sam avoided Bucky as much as she could. That look in his eyes
had put the fear of God in her and she knew that she did not stand a chance
should he decide to act on it; but so far, he did nothing but look.
It was 11:37 p.m. on a Wednesday night and Sam was by herself in the study
section of the library peacefully finishing her paper for organic chemistry.
The air was still, not a single sound to be heard.
"You do know all this avoidance can hurt my feelings."
Sam barely held in a scream as she shot up out of her chair, knocking her books
off the study table she was occupying and spun around to face a smirking
Bucky. 
"What are you doing here?!" She asked before remembering where she was and
lowered her voice. "You fucking scared me you asshole!" She said in a shout-
whisper.
He had taken on a job that took him out of the country for a month, something
Sam was extremely happy about, but he made sure to call her when he could,
always referring to her as 'darling wife', 'dear wife' and his personal
favourite ‘Mrs. Barnes’.
"I came home, and you weren't there, so I tracked your phone here."
He said it as if he was merely telling her what the weather was like and Sam
had the urge to hit him but knew what that would get her.
"I was going to return." Sam was tired, emotionally and mentally and she made
no effort to hide it from him. "I have no choice in the matter." Bucky smiled
cruelly at her.
"Are you soon finished here?" He asked.
Sam ran a hand through her hair, "yeah, just three more paragraphs and then I
can leave." Something then dawned on her. "Why are you here? You should not
have returned until Friday."
"Change in plans, came back earlier than previously thought." Bucky was looking
around the library. "So, this is what a university library looks like." He
looked at Sam, "I did not receive a tertiary education." He explained, "I went
straight into the military at eighteen; became the best sniper they could make.
That's where I lost my arm." He waved the silver metallic arm drawing Sam's
attention to it.
She offered no response at hearing his explanation, instead choosing to right
her belongings and continuing with her work. Bucky sat on top of the next
table, looking over the divider at what Sam was typing. They sat like that for
ten minutes, Sam's eyes and fingers never straying from her laptop, while
ignoring Bucky hanging over the divider watching her.
"Hey, Sammy."
Sam and Bucky turned at the voice who called out to her. 
"Brock," Sam greeted the newcomer with a tired but warm smile, at which Bucky
frowned, "late night?"
Brock laughed, "actually an early night. First one in almost a year." When he
got closer to them, he looked at Bucky and stuck out his hand. "Brock Rumlow."
He introduced himself. "And you must be the secret husband."
Bucky smirked at that, "Bucky Barnes." He shook Brock's hand. "Secret husband?"
He turned his attention back to Sam who was giving her laptop her undivided
attention.
"We all know that Sam is married but that was the extent of what we knew, and
we only found out because we saw that big ol' rock on her left hand."
"Are you that ashamed of me Sammy?" He mockingly said her nickname. "I mean, I
know I am not fully whole," he brought his prosthetic arm to rest on the
divider and Sam glanced at it, knowing the damage that it could do, then up at
him. "But I thought you could look pass my flaws."
Sam slammed her laptop closed, causing Brock to startle and he looked between
the two, knowing that something was not quite right.
"I am done." She shoved her books and laptop into her bag and stood. "Move your
ass and let's get out of here."
Bucky stood at her command, making sure to loom over her with his height, a sly
smile on his face. "Aye, aye captain."
"See you around Brock."
"Hey, wait." He called out. "Here." In his outstretched hand was a thick
stapled document. Sam took the offered item, curious as to what it was and when
she opened it she smiled brightly.
"Oh my God!" She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Thank
you!" 
Brock hugged her back, but he saw the look on Bucky's face behind Sam's back.
He saw the look of a jealous man, as he stared at Sam and quickly eased out of
her hold. "You are welcome. It's a 'thank you' for all your help with my paper.
And exams are coming up, so I know you would want all the study and practice
materials you can get your hands on."
Sam was smiling like a kid on Christmas day, unaware of how Bucky was looking
at her.
"Seriously though, thanks for this." She waved the papers in the air between
them.
Brock looked between her and Bucky, wanting to beat a hasty retreat, but at the
same time concerned for her safety once she was alone with him. However, that
decision was taken from him.
"Well, I have to go now." Sam said, tucking the papers carefully into her
backpack. "See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Brock watched as Sam and Bucky left, his mind racing
with what he had seen and the knowledge that Sam was unaware of how she was
looked at. 
Sam and Bucky exited the library, walking side by side to the parking lot where
their cars were parked. The silence between them was heavy and Sam was glad
that in a few minutes there would be space between them. She was so deep in
thought that she did not register Bucky no longer beside her and when she did,
she stopped walking and turned around to see him a few feet behind her,
watching her with an unreadable expression.
Sighing in annoyance, Sam rolled her eyes. "What now?"
"Who was that guy?"
"Who? Brock?"
"Yeah, him." Bucky spat.
"A grad student, one of my class tutors and a friend." Sam answered, not sure
what had gotten into Bucky this time.
"A friend." Bucky looked off to the side, a small scathing laugh leaving his
lips. "What kind of a friend?" His eyes slid back to Sam.
"A friend who gave me coveted study material."
"Who also calls you 'Sammy'?"
She sighed exasperatedly and resumed walking to the parking lot. "I am too damn
tired to deal with any of your shit tonight. I will see you back at the
penthouse." Upon reaching her vehicle, she was about to enter it when she was
roughly spun around, pushed up against it and the car door slammed violently,
the sound echoing loudly in the empty parking lot. "Get your hands off me." she
growled.
Bucky glared down at her, "we may not have a conventional marriage, but you
will respect the fact that we have a legal marriage. I will not tolerate an
extramarital affair from you."
Sam rolled her eyes so hard, she gave herself a headache. "Brock. Is. Married."
"Never stopped a man before."
"Well, apart from the fact that cheating is not my style. I do not want to have
anyone's blood on my hands. Knowing you, you would just kill the person.
Sadistic bastard that you are."
Bucky smiled as if she had just paid him a compliment, instead of insulting
him.
"Can you ease up now? I want to get out of here."
He released his hold on her, waiting until she had gotten into the vehicle,
before getting into his and drove behind her the entire way to the penthouse,
only separating once they arrived at their destination and Sam firmly closed
her bedroom behind her.
===============================================================================
Sam was deep in concentration, when the sound of knocking penetrated her
senses. Turning in her chair she looked at the door in confusion.
"Come in."
The door opened, and Bucky entered to see the look on Sam's face. "What?"
"You knocked."
It was Bucky's turn to be confused. "Yeah? That is the polite thing to do when
entering someone's space, especially if the door is closed."
Sam turned back around in her chair. "Well, with your personality and
behaviour, I figured you would just burst in as you please; you know, just to
remind me that you own the place."
"Everything is always a fight with you isn't it?" Bucky took a seat on her bed,
leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. "I am respecting your
privacy, hence me knocking before entering your room."
"And if I refused you entry?"
"Then I would say what I had to from outside the door."
"And if I told you to get out right now?"
"Then I would leave; I may not like it, but I would leave."
Sam hummed, nodding her head slightly. "What do you need?"
"I am leaving tonight for a job." Bucky informed her. "I will be gone for two
weeks."
Sam remained silent.
"In addition, I will not be able to contact you for that time."
"Oh?" That got Sam's attention. "Do tell me more."
"Please, do try to contain your excitement at getting rid of me temporarily."
He said dryly. 
"I wish it was permanently." Sam fired back.
"Can you at least try and pretend to be cordial for a few minutes?"
"Can you drop dead?"
Bucky's eyes grew hard and Sam knew she was on thin ice with that comment.
"I am trying very hard to be nice here Sam." His voice was clipped. "Stop while
you're ahead."
Sam took the warning to heart, watching what she said since that day and her
tone when she did decide to be snappy and a smart ass.
===============================================================================
Bucky said that he would have been gone for two weeks. He was gone for almost
amonth. Sam was not worried; if Bucky was hurt, she would have been informed by
his best friend, Steve Rogers. The same best friend who called Sam three times
a day like clockwork for the past two weeks in place of Bucky. And if he were
dead, then she would be a very rich, young widow; her life once hers again.
It had been three months since that fateful night and Sam was still not any
less scared than she was before. Every day she waited for the other shoe to
drop; tonight, that shoe crashed to the floor.
On the night that marked the third month of Sam's new life, Bucky
returned home. Walking with a purpose, he slammed open the door to Sam's
bedroom, somewhere he hardly went and when he did he requested permission to
enter as if he did not own the fucking penthouse and as if Sam would ever
reject his entry for fear of her life.
Sam had been sitting on her bed, surrounded by school books when she jumped
violently in fright at the sudden noise, only to shrink back in fear when she
saw the look on her husband's face.
"Bucky? You're back? Wha-" Sam did not manage to finish her question as Bucky
strode over to her quickly, grabbed her by her wrist and dragged her from the
bed, out of her room.
"Bucky! What's wrong?! where are we going?!" 
He did not answer, but kept on walking, dragging her by her arm behind him.
"you are hurting me!" She tried to pull her wrist from his vice like grip. When
that did not work, Sam attempted to dig her heels into the marble floor to get
him to stop, but undeterred, Bucky only turned around picked her up as if she
weighed nothing, threw her over his shoulder and continued walking.
Upon reaching his destination, his bedroom, Bucky kicked open the door, walked
inside and threw her unceremoniously on the bed where she bounced.
"What the hell is wrong with y-" she was again cut off, this time by shock from
seeing that Bucky was undressing, his steel blue eyes staring unwaveringly at
her in an unnerving fashion. "Bucky, what's going on?" She was scared and could
not disguise the fear in her voice.
"We are going to consummate out marriage dear wife."
Sam stared in horror as Bucky stood before her in nothing but his jeans, which
now hung low on his hips thanks to the button and zipper being undone. He had
never troubled her for sex, something she had put on the back-burner of her
mind after three months of being married and he did not say or even attempt to
do anything remotely sexual to her, after forcing her into the marriage.
"No." Her voice was strong, even though she could feel tremors rocking her
body.
Bucky raised an eyebrow and the coldness in them reminded Sam of how he had
earned the nightmare inducing nickname 'The Winter Soldier'.
"Ok, let me break it down for you; you can willingly spread your legs for me or
I can force them a part and forcefully consummate this marriage without your
consent."
'Rape. He was going to rape me.' Sam thought. Her mind racing a mile a minute,
trying to figure a way out of this situation. Her mind flashed back to that
damning night when they first met, and he had pressed his hard on against her,
making her think the worst and that is when it clicked.
"You said that you were not a "rapist.'"
“I did say that. And it is true; I am no rapist and me not becoming one is up
to you Mrs. Barnes.” Bucky regarded her, looking at the tears gathering in her
eyes, ready to spill over the moment she blinked.
“You have the power to make me not become a rapist.”
Sam’s mind was spinning with his words, with what he was saying, and she felt
sick to her stomach. There were two choices before her: 1) willingly have sex
with him and he would remain true to his word and 2) refuse him and he would
have no problem forcing himself on her.
“So, what’d you say Sam?”
She was brought out of her thought to see that Bucky was now sitting on the
edge of the bed, looking at her with warm blues that she knew could go steel
cold on seconds.
“Consummating our marriage under duress is still rape.”
And there is was, as soon as those words left her mouth, his eyes became cold
instantly.
Bucky tilted his head, his eyes and body language shifting from non-threatening
to menacing and Sam knew she was done for.
“Wrong answer Sam.”
Sam barely had time to react before Bucky was launching himself across the bed
at her. She managed to scramble off the other side of the bed, determined to
make it to the bedroom door, but she caught their reflection in the floor to
ceiling windows and saw that Bucky was right on her heels and made a sharp turn
in the direction of the bathroom, closing and locking the door just in time
when Bucky ran into it, making it shake violently. Sam backed away instantly,
eyeing the wooden door that stood between her and an enraged assassin, hell-
bent on having his way with her.
“Open the door Samantha.” Bucky’s voice was calm, but belied the inferno that
awaited Sam outside the door.
She was moments away from panicking. Spinning around in the bathroom, looking
for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. Pulling open drawers,
Sam found a wickedly sharp straight razor just as rattling of the door went
suddenly quiet.
Turning to face the door, Sam held her breath, straining her ears to hear what
was happening on the other side when she heard faint scratching. Stepping away
closer to the door, she jumped back in fright when the door handle on her side
fell to the floor with a ringing clatter and she looked up in horror as the
door slowly swung open to reveal a red in the face with anger assassin.
“B-Bucky.” Sam walked backwards until the marble face-basin pressed into her
lower back. The large bathroom, not offering her anywhere to run as it was all
open to the monster before her.
Bucky entered the bathroom, murder and danger radiating from his every pore,
from his every step towards her, from his face and body language and Sam stood
there, fear coiling around her lungs and squeezing until she felt as if she was
going to pass out.
“You should not have done that Samantha.”
His voice was low, cold and dangerous and Sam was suddenly faced with the
enormity of the situation. She was not getting out of this bathroom unscathed,
but hell if she was going down without a fight. Bucky may have been a trained
assassin, but Sam was a teenaged wife, faced with the threat of being raped by
her husband and she was damned if she was going to make it easy for him.
Sam watched him, her eyes never straying from his as he got closer, the
straight razor down by her thigh, out of sight as she flicked it open, waiting
as he got closer. She might not be able to kill him, but she could deal enough
damage to try and escape.
When he was close enough that her head started tilting back to keep eye contact
with him, Sam adjusted her grip on the handle of the razor.
Without another word, Bucky’s hand shot out and snatched Sam’s arm, who
retaliated immediately with her counter attack. Swiping up as hard as she
could, Sam sliced Bucky’s arm open.
“Fucking bitch!” He reared back from the pain and Sam took the opening to duck
out from between him and the face-basin, running towards the handle-less
bathroom door, the edge of the bed in her sights as she set one foot over the
threshold into the bedroom, only to be roughly yanked back by the back of her
shirt and thrown to the side where she connected harshly with the raised
jacuzzi bathtub, the razor flying from her hand and getting lost somewhere in
the bathroom.
Turning over onto her back, Sam raised herself up and leaned against the side
of the tub, regaining her bearings as a shadow fell over her, looking up all
she saw was the devil standing over her, ready to deliver her punishment.  
“Please don’t.” The first of many tears for that night fell as an angry,
bleeding Bucky grabbed her by her shirt and hauled her to her feet.
“Bucky, don’t! Don’t do this!” She tried to pull herself from his grasp, but he
held on tight. “I won’t tell anyone! Please! I don’t want this!”
Bucky dragged Sam across the bathroom and back into the bedroom where he threw
her on the bed, climbed on top of her and ignoring her pleas and cries, he
forcefully consummated their marriage.
===============================================================================
Bucky had gotten off her a few seconds ago, minutes, hours…Sam had lost track
of time, between crying, screaming and begging. She knew nothing but the pain
radiating from deep inside of her. Somewhere distantly, she heard water being
turned on and off and smelled antiseptic, but it felt as if she was dreaming.
The only thought running through her mind was, ‘if only.’
If only she had just been a few minutes late when throwing out the garbage.
If only she had just been a few minutes early when throwing out the garbage.
If only she had not taken the extra shift.
If only nothing but tragedy had not befallen her family.
If only, if only, if only, IF ONLY!!!!!!
If only she had just the smallest bit of luck, then she would not be married to
the infamous Winter Soldier, the world's deadliest assassin, and she would not
be in the amount of pain she was right now; with blood and semen running from
between her legs, staining the white sheets on which she was laying, curled in
a foetal position, with bruises covering her body.
Bucky exited the bathroom, his arm that Sam had managed to injure wrapped in
cleaned bandages, his hair wet from the shower he just took. Sam remained
still, even when she felt the bed dip beside her. He gently rolled her over on
her back and she flung an arm over her eyes, trying to block out the world.
"Let's get you cleaned up." He parted her legs without any resistance from her.
Why bother fighting, he had already pried them open and raped her, it would be
useless to continue fighting him. 
He cleaned her up with a warm wet rag and then dried her.
"Sit up." 
She did as told, but kept her eyes closed. She felt the neck of a shirt being
pulled over her head and raised her arms for Bucky to slip on a shirt she
realised was his as it was big on her and smelled of him. When he was finished
she laid back down, curling up into a ball. Bucky turned out the lights and
joined her in bed, moulding himself to her back, wrapping an arm around her
waist.
"From now on, you will sleep in here. We will move your stuff in here
tomorrow."
Sam remained still.
"And we will be having an intimate relationship as well. So, I hope our next
encounter goes more smoothly than this one."
===============================================================================
 
Sam sat at the edge of the large bed, her feet not even grazing the cool marble
floor. The city skyline that most would kill for just to have as their view,
behind her, the large floor to ceiling windows creating a barrier between it
and her.
Irony is that Sam did not have to kill anyone to get the view; she just had to
be the poor (in every sense of the word) unfortunate soul to witness someone
else's murder.
She heard the private elevator to the penthouse open and she brought her
legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her eyes watching the
bedroom door as she heard him come closer.
Soon the door opened and in walked the bane of her existence, still looking as
good as he did that fateful night a year ago, but no less lethal. His steel
blue eyes met hers and he smiled. She did not return it, her eyes watching him
as he went to the bathroom, to wash off whatever job it was that had him out.
A few minutes later, she heard the shower turn off and he stepped out of the
bathroom, hair wet and out, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets running
down his chiselled body and Sam wanted nothing more than to throttle him. He
came to stand in front of her, making Sam tilt her head back to look up at him.
"Where's my 'welcome home' kiss?" Bucky asked, looking like a charming school
boy but beneath the facade lurked a cold-blooded killer.
Sam sighed, and brought herself to her knees on the edge of the bed so that she
could kiss him, knowing where this was going to lead but could not find it in
herself to care at all.
It had been a year since that fateful night and Sam was no longer scared of
Bucky. Now she was simply tired. Oh, so tired.
***** Forever Young *****
Chapter Summary
     “Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something
     tragic.”
     Sam is eternally young and beautiful.
Chapter Notes
     Just a reminder that these are drabbles (one-shots); some of which
     may be explored and developed into longer fics.
     Italics - flashback
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, please
     POLITELY point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sam has always received compliments on her beauty. How it was greater than that
of Helen of Troy, whom was the catalyst for the Trojan war and Aphrodite, the
goddess of love and beauty among other things.
"The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold.   The curves of
your lips rewrite history.”  Her long-time friend, Vlad Tepes told her once and
he was not wrong.
Sam has seen history when it is in the making, when it has been made and when
it has repeated itself (majority of the times due to men's stupidity, arrogance
and egos).
Born a slave, September 23, 1837, heroriginal name was one that described what
a gift her beauty was, as everyone, men and women, white and black, master and
slave, were all in awe of her. She was the pride and joy of her mother, as well
as her masters, who allowed her to be taught how to read and write, something
completely unheard of for a slave, even if that slave was a house slave.
 At the age of ten, Sam met the man who would later become her
husband; marrying him when she turned sixteen, hence becoming the wife of one
of the richest plantation owners. On the night of their wedding, he presented
her with a portrait, painted to forever capture her youth and beauty, as a
wedding gift.
That same night, Sam made a deal with the devil to be forever young, instead
passing off her mortality (and her sins as well) to a canvas with her painted
face on it.
===============================================================================
“All art is quite useless. Their beauty will fade.” An older woman, skin
beginning to show the signs of aging, sneered at Sam who was twenty-one at the
time, during the annual Christmas ball her husband held, where he invited
fellow plantation owners and their families to dine and dance surrounded by
untold wealth. Sam simply smiled and continued flitting among the many guests
in her home. When two nights later, she helped all the plantation slaves, owned
by the woman and her husband escape their hell on earth, before setting the
Great House on fire, with the woman and her husband blissfully asleep in there.
"Another sin to add to my collection." Sam said to herself, atop her horse,
watching from distance as the house burned, screams and cries for help, music
to her ears. 
===============================================================================
When it became obvious that she was not aging alongside her husband, without
question, he spirited her away to Scotland, deep into the country side, where
she lived out his final days with him. On his dying breath, he asked her to do
some good with the blessing she was given.
Oh, how ignorant he was to the fact that she had sold her soul and that this
was no gift from God, but from his fallen angel. Still, she tried to do as
told, starting with helping slaves to escape their masters and find freedom;
and if she took sadistic pleasure in harming the slavers, well those sins were
not hers to carry.
===============================================================================
Vlad threw his head back in laughter. "I sacrificed my own humanity to save my
kingdom and look what it got me; a dead wife, estranged from my only child,
exiled from my kingdom, forced to hide in the shadows forever." He twirled the
dark red wine in his wine glass, watching as the liquid settled. 
Sam smirked, throwing back the rest of her wine. “Whenever a man does a
thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.” 
"Unlike you Serena."
"Samantha." She corrected instantly. "I have not used 'Serena' in almost a
century." She clicked her tongue at Vlad. "You're getting old there."
Vlad smiled good naturedly. "You women are better than us men."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"You do not hide behind good intentions or morals. You wanted to remain young
and beautiful, so you sold your soul and did not even bother to be coy about
it."
Sam smiled at Vlad, poured them both another drink and toasted to her birthday,
on the night of September 23rd, 1958, in a hotel room in Paris, as they
reminisced about their soul and humanity lost centuries ago. 
===============================================================================
Her new friends, in this new life, are beginning to wonder why she show no
evidence of the wars she has fought on her body. She sees how they all look at
her in question and when the time comes, she will reveal to them that she is in
fact immortal. However, she will keep her weakness close to her chest.
Her only weakness being that, deep beneath her home, behind layers of security
she perfected over the many years she has lived, that not even Tony Stark could
break through, lies a vault that holds a portrait, ravaged not by time, but by
the many sins she has committed. Sins ranging from curiosity to downright
depraved and cruel, to the orders she received from the U.S. government until
five years ago.
But, for now, no one living, aside from Vlad, knows that Sam is not really her
name, but one of the many names she has had over the centuries she has lived.
No one knows that 'The Picture of Dorian Gray' is not really a story, but Sam's
biography.
No one knows that Sam is Dorian Gray.
No one knows that Samantha Teresa Wilson, was born Dorian Greta Gray, on a
cotton plantation to a slave mother, September 23, 1837.
Forever young, yes.
Forever cursed, notin Sam’s eyes.
                                        
                                   The_End.
Chapter End Notes
     Vlad Tepes is Luke Evans from Dracula Untold
     Sam's husband is Billy Russo - Ben Barnes character from the
     Punisher.
     Summary and quotes are taken from ― Oscar Wilde's, 'The Picture of
     Dorian Gray'
     This is what happened when I finally binge watched the Punisher and
     then watched Dorian Gray.
***** Wipe The Blood Off Your Lip (With A Wink And A Smile). (Sam/Brock) *****
Chapter Summary
     Sam is thirteen and Brock twenty-six the first time they
     met...violently.
Chapter Notes
     Just a reminder that these are DRABBLES (one-shots); some of which
     may be explored and developed into longer fics.
     This fic IS NOT related to another story I have in this work titled:
     "Eleven Years (Sam Wilson/Harry Hart)". Even though Harry Hart is
     Sam's father in this fic, the two works ARE NOT related.
     In addition, I just want to inform all the readers of this particular
     work, that next story I post might be a dark fic. I just wanted to
     give you all fair warning in case I do post something dark after
     this.
     'Meminisse' Latin for 'Remember' - I used Google Translate for this.
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, POLITELY
     point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
Samantha Wilson-Hart and her father, Harry Hart both entered the research
facility where he worked in Hong Kong. Even after a sixteen hour flight, from
New York to Hong Kong, thirteen year old Sam was still wide awake, taking in
everything around her with wide open eyes. She loved coming to Hong Kong and
seeing the work her Chemical Biologist father and his colleagues did. Sam lived
in the U.S. with her older brother Billy, while their father worked overseas
and during Summer, when school was on break, Sam was on the first flight out to
see her father.
Hong Kong was like a second home to her and the research facility was her
playground. The many employees there knowing who she was, watching as she grew
from a toddler into a teenager and she was just as excited to see them.
The facility had four research areas: Chemistry, Biology, Physics and Research
Design.
Sam's favourite area was Physics, as the labs in the Physics wing had many cool
projects she could observe unlike the chemistry and biology wings that had some
restricted areas due to the chemical and samples being worked with.
"You excited for the conference on Saturday? Ready to hear how your old man and
a bunch of young folks are going to help people with amnesia?" Harry asked as
they passed through the first security check point.
"Nah, I am just here to see what Professor Leng has for me to play with." Sam
joked, missing the pained look on her father's face at the mention of his
former colleague, something he had yet to tell Sam. 
"Let's go say 'hi' to Dr. Kala, before you go and terrorise the Physics wing."
He suggested, trying to off breaking his daughter’s heart a little longer.
Sam looked affronted, "I do not terrorise anyone over there. They all love
me. Everyone here loves me."
"And your humility astounds me Sam." Harry looked at his daughter with raised
eyebrows, "and you do terrorise them; the last time you were here, you and Dr.
Parker's son were found bungee jumping from the reinforced titanium webbing
that they had designed to make the retrieval of soldiers via helicopter
easier."
Sam simply shrugged her shoulders, "at least they knew it worked."
Harry shook his head as he ushered his daughter through the security checkpoint
on the forty-first floor of the chemistry and biology wing, Sam smiling
brightly at the security guard who she knew on a first name basis, taking the
time to stop and chat for a few minutes, asking about his family. The security
guard, Lee Xu Chu was delighted at seeing his little friend again that he
upgraded her access pass to the facility to an all access pass.
"You sure that is a wise decision Lee?" Harry eyed his daughter warily, as she
looked at the piece of blue transparent plastic that would give her access to
the even most restricted of areas.
"No worries, Dr. Hart." Lee looked too comfortable giving that amount of power
to a precocious thirteen year old girl. "Sam won't abuse the power she was
given." Lee smiled down at Sam who gave him an equally bright one.
"Dear Lord, she has you all wrapped around her finger."
"Don't hate dad. Thanks Lee!" Sam called out as her father pushed her through
the automatic doors and into the corridor that lead to his lab. Once inside,
Sam threw her coat and back pack down on a chair that was put in the corner
especially for her and ran to her other favourite spot in the entire building.
The floor to ceiling window in the corner of the lab that gave her a beautiful
view of the Hong Kong skyline.
What she especially liked looking at was the large pool on the rooftop of the
hotel right next door to them, a few stories lower than the floor where she
currently was. The cabanas that were scattered around the roof top offered a
colourful view and the pool water was always moving thanks to its location; the
slightest breeze creating soft ripples. She couldn't wait to go swimming in it
once the conference was finished.
"Hey dad?"
"Yeah Sam." Her father was already buried in his work, putting the final
touches on the presentation for the conference.
"What's with all the added security cameras in the hallway and security out
front?"
Sam heard the clacking of keys on the keyboard come to stop and saw a vague
reflection of her father in the smudge less glass window giving her his
undivided attention.
"Can you keep a secret Sam?"
That question had her spinning around so fast, her father was worried she was
going to topple over from such a fast shift in her equilibrium. "Yes, I can."
"Come with me." He got up from his desk and Sam followed him through the glass
automatic sliding doors that separated where lab tests were done from the
researchers work stations. He walked up to a key pad and raised his hand to it.
"Cover your eyes Sam, I know how that memory of yours work and I do not need
you being privy to this pass code."
Sam rolled her eyes as a beep sounded in the roon, the light on the keypad
turned green and the glass doors before them slid open. "Well, that is new as
well." She commented once they had entered the testing room. 
"We had to make a few security changes thanks to this medical breakthrough we
had." Harry answered as he walked over to the wall, and pressed on a section of
it. What happened next had Sam thinking about all those James Bond movies she
likes to watch.
What Sam had thought was just a plain white wall, opened up to reveal a small
dark container with another keypad, on which her father entered another code,
her attention narrowed down to that dark container that she realised was a
safe, when there was another beep the light turned green and her father opened
it to reveal a single black thumb drive, that he removed and brought down to
her eye level.
She stared at it in awe, not knowing what it contained, but knew whatever was
on it, was extremely important to warrant this kind of security.
"What is it?"
"This holds all the data we have on a compound developed and named Meminisse.
Latin for 'to remember'." Harry explained, his voice soft, "this is something
that will forever change the lives of amnesiacs and if it gets into the wrong
hands, it can also kill a lot of people." 
Sam looked up at her father, her eyes filled with confusion, "how can it kill
people if it was created to help them."
"Because, if a certain chemical compound is removed from the formula when it is
done, it will become a dangerous nerve gas." They both turned at the sound of a
new voice and Sam's face lit up as if Christmas had come early.
"Dr. Kala!" 
Once the newcomer was in the testing room, Sam ran to her and was enveloped in
a big hug, being lifted off her feet in the process.
"My, look how big you have gotten." Dr. Kala smiled at Sam, pulling on one of
her ringlet curls. "I soon won't be able to lift you up anymore." Dr. Kala was
one of the smartest persons Sam knew and she looked up to her a lot. Being the
only girl born to an Indian family with five older brothers, Dr. Kala fought
hard to get to where she was today and Sam had mad respect for her.
"So, this nerve gas thing, how'd you find out about it?" Sam asked, wanting to
get back to the topic on hand. However, she did not notice the pained
expression her father and Dr. Kala exchanged over her head.
"A lab mishap." Harry said.
"A lab mishap, where no lives were lost and for that we are grateful." Dr. Kala
chimed in, jostling Sam a little to make her giggle not liking the sombre look
that was on the teen's face. "I have personally seen up close the effects that
nerve gas has on people and it is not pretty. That is why we have increased
security measures."
Sam was thoughtful for a moment, "but if you are going to be speaking about it
at the conference, wouldn't that attract a lot of attention?"
Harry smiled proudly at his daughter; always one step ahead of everyone. "We
will speak about how to unlock the memories of an amnesiac, but we won't be
giving out the data on how to make the chemical compound. That is only
something myself, Dr. Kala and the other three persons on this research team
are to be privy of."
"You do know once, more than one person knows about a 'secret' it is no longer
one?"
Dr. Kala laughed and put Sam back on the floor, ruffling her hair. "I love you
Sam. You are such a breath of fresh air."
"Love you too Dr. Kala." Sam said distracted as she watched her father replace
the thumb drive in the safe, lock it and ushered her out of the room, the door
automatically closing behind them. 
"Hey," Harry called to Sam when he saw that she was leaving the lab. "Where are
you going?"
Sam pointed in the general direction of the door, "I am going to visit
Professor Leng." Her father knew that once he showed her what he was currently
working on, she would go and visit the Professor. This time, watching her
father, she did not miss the pained expression that he and Dr. Kala shared.
"What?" Apprehension filled her. "What is it?"
"Sam," her father took off his glasses and sat down in his desk chair, calling
her over with a wave of his hand. When she stood before him, he patted the edge
of his desk and she hopped up on it. "I am so sorry to tell you this, but
Professor Leng no longer works here."
Sam was shell shocked. "What? Why?"
Dr. Kala stepped forward, her eyes sad. "When we had that lab mishap, Professor
Leng was here for it. He witnessed what it could do and we had no idea what
kind of wickedness was in his heart sweetheart."
"Wickedness? What are you talking about?" Sam's head swivelled to her father,
"are you telling me that he wanted to use it to hurt people?"
"Sam, I am terribly sorry to have to break your heart with this news." Harry
truly looked torn up. 
Sam felt her eyes burn with tears and scrubbed at them. "That makes no sense.
Professor Leng was one of the nicest adults I knew. He sent me presents and
money for Christmas and my birthday. He gave me sweets every time I came here
and he always had cool stuff for me to play with in his office."
"Sam, darling," Dr. Kala's soft accented voice washed over her, "we never know
people as much as we would like to and so we cannot say why someone who seemed
so nice would want to do something so awful."
"So, just because he wanted to hurt people he was fired?"
"No, he tried to steal the data and when we caught him, we made sure that
everything was dealt with in house to prevent any information being leaked to
the media." Harry explained as gently as he could.
"Where is he now?"
"In a prison in the Netherlands. Solitary confinement."
Sam turned sad, hurt filled eyes on her father. "Why are you just telling me
this?"
Harry brushed a finger down Sam's cheek. "Because I could not bear to see the
amount of pain you are in right now."
She said nothing as her father's words sunk in, silently she slipped from his
desk and pulled the chair from the corner to the window she liked looking out
of, looking down at the clear cool looking water of the hotel next door.
"Are you ok Sam, do you want some juice? I can take you down to the cafeteria."
Dr. Kala offered.
"No, thank you. I am just going to sit here quietly and read." She had yet to
make a move aside from staring out the window.
"Ok, Sam, you do that." Dr. Kala turned to Harry, "I suggest you speak to her
again and keep an eye on her." She said quietly. "Children do not take well to
being betrayed by adults and I am speaking again from personal experience."
"I will, I am just giving her some time to process it all."
Sam was half an hour into staring out of the window when she felt a strong,
warm hand land on her shoulder. She looked up into the warm hazel eyes of her
father. "Yeah?"
"Kala and I are going next door to the hotel to finalise a few things for the
conference. Do you want to come with us? You can always stay back in the hotel
room, get some rest." He suggested.
"No, thank you. I am good here.”
Harry nodded his head in resignation, "ok, just stay out of trouble, no going
into the testing area because I know you memorized both the pass-codes for the
door and safe."
"I did no such thing."
"Huh uh, sure." Harry shrugged on his coat and went over to where Sam was
sitting, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Be back in an hour the least."
"Love you dad."
"Love you darling."
===============================================================================
Sam was half way through the book she was reading when her stomach grumbled,
and not wanting any of the snacks in her back pack, she made her way to Lee,
hoping that he could get something for her from the vending machine.
Just as she turned the corner, she saw a group of men, wearing black soldier-
like uniforms enter the forty-first floor and once they walked through the
metal detectors the machines went off like crazy, prompting Lee and the other
security guard who was with him to stand and address the men.
Lee stepped out from behind the desk, his hand stretched out towards the men,
"excuse me gentlemen," his accented voice said, but he got no further before
the man at the front pulled a gun from behind his back and shot Lee between his
eyes. 
Before Lee's body even fell to the floor, the man had the gun pointed to the
head of the other security guard, Seoung.
"Unless you want to end up like your friend there," the man indicated to Lee's
dead body with his gun, "I suggest you fully co-operate and try not to be a
hero."
The security guard nodded, clearly fearful of the gun pointed in his face, even
from Sam's hiding place around the corner.
"My employer who is paying me and my men a lot of money is in need of a
particular item from this research facility, particularly this section and you
are going to help us get it." The man explained. 
"Wha-what do you want?" He asked.
"Meminisse."
Sam's heart stopped when she heard him utter that word. She looked around
wildly, trying to figure out what she could do to slow them down when her eyes
landed on the fire alarm on the wall across from her and without a second
thought she was up and across the hall, her hand slamming down on the button
and immediately, there was a loud wailing with an automatic voice instructing
all personnel to the nearest exits.
The threat of a fire would not only bring fire fighters, but the police as well
and with that Sam was running off down the hall, back to her father's lab. The
all access pass that Lee had given her, got her back into the lab and she
headed straight to the testing room, standing on tip-toes to reach the key pad
and keyed in the code her father had told her not to memorise.
25-12, Christmas.
The doors to the testing area slid shut the moment the security guard and the
men entered the lab and Sam stared at them in shock; apparently they were as
equally shocked to find a teenage girl in the room they wanted to enter as the
man at the front lowered his gun, a look of uncertainty on his face as he
looked from Sam to the security guard.
"Who is she?" He asked, voice rough as his green eyes landed back on Sam.
"I don't know." The Seoung lied and Sam was glad for it. Everyone in this
research facility knew who she was.
Sam's eyes caught the movement of another man as he walked over to the keypad,
her eyes tracking him.
"Hey Brock." He called out and the man in front turned his attention to him and
Sam had the name of at least the leader of the group. That would definitely be
helpful if, no, not 'if', when she got out of here.
The man pointed at the keypad and Brock pointed his gun at the security guard's
head, causing Sam to flinch.
"Open it." He commanded, voice cold.
"I can't!" Seoung cried, and hurriedly explained, "only the researchers who
work in the lab knows the code and it is changed every day."
"Then he is completely useless to use boss." A young looking blonde haired guy
at the back of the group said, his cold blue eyes landing on Sam. "Just waste
him and the little girl and let's get what we came here for."
That apparently hit a nerve with Brock as he whirled around on the guy, his
voice cool and levelled, but Sam knew concealed anger when she saw it. Her
brother, Billy was the same; it was the subtle hints that one had to look for
to know when he was angry and barely restraining himself from unleashing all
hell. It was the clenching of his jaw, the squaring of his shoulders, his curt
and direct words as he stared someone down and the man standing before her was
barely containing his anger.
"We are not killing a little girl." That argument done and not to be returned
to, he refocused his attention on the man who had pointed out the keypad, "can
you get it open?"
The man had pulled the keypad control from the wall and was dissecting it with
his eyes, "yeah, I need just five minutes and I can get it open."
That was not good news for Sam and pushing down her fear of the men with the
guns she grabbed a chair, cursing in her head the fact that she was still short
even at thirteen. 
"The fuck is she doing?" Another man asked.
Ignoring the eyes on her, Sam pushed the chair right up to where the door met
the wall and stood on it. Examining the keypad on her side, Sam took the Swiss
army knife her brother had given to her, and using the large blade she pulled
the front of the keypad from the wall exposing the wires and mechanisms. 
"No, fucking way." 
Sam has been described as being too smart for her own good. Her teachers
described her as genius, her father said she took after her mother with her
smarts and her brother said he feared for whoever cross her.
Brock stared at Sam as she cut wires, and linked them with other
wires. "Rollins, what is she doing?"
There was a beep and the red light on the keypad died, Sam smiled at her work
and hopped down from the chair. All eyes looked from her to the keypad and back
to her.
The guy named Rollins spoke, "well, it seems as if she just disabled the
keypad, effectively locking us out of that room."
Brock turned wide astonished eyes on her and she saw the moment rage took over,
he slowly approached the glass doors looking down at Sam, "now, I am not in the
business of hurting children, so if you undo what you did and open this door
right now, I promise that you will not be harmed. We just want what is in that
safe behind you." He spoke calmly even though he definitely wanted to throttle
Sam at that point.
Sam did believe him that if she did as told, she would have been left
unscathed, but in turn if they got what they wanted, a lot more people would be
hurt, possibly killed. Knowing she would only allow that to happen when hell
froze over, she channelled her inner Randy Jackson and threw up her middle
finger "that's a no from me dawg."
The smiles she got in return were malevolent as the group of five men stared
her down.
He turned to the men standing behind him. "Let this day be known as the day I
made an exception to a rule." He turned back to her suddenly, gun raised,
finger on the trigger and fired.
Sam ducked waiting for the bullet, pain and more than likely death to hit her,
but none of that came. She slowly opened her eyes that she had squeezed closed
and saw where the bullet should have pierced the glass, looking warped with the
bullet lodged in the spot. Her eyes took in the entire structure of the glass
doors and realised that not only were they reinforced to prevent the glass from
breaking, but it was fucking bullet proof as well. 
"Suck on that!" She jeered, but the smile instantly dropped from her face when
she saw five assault rifles pointed at her.
"Last chance little girl." Brock said and when Sam did nothing, they all
started firing at the glass.
Sam's instincts kicked in and she vaulted over the large metal work table,
taking cover should a bullet pierce a weak point in the now bullet riddle
glass. There was a moment of silence when the shooting stopped and she peeked
her head over the top of the table to see that the men were reloading their
guns. She looked at the only thing separating her from them and knew it would
not last another round and that she had to get out of there. But there was
nowhere to go. She spied the vent, but the space was too small to crawl
through. Looking around again, she saw the reinforced windows on the other side
of the testing room. Making up her mind, Sam shot up from her hiding space, ran
over to where the safe was and pushed on the wall.
"Hey!" Brock banged on the glass. "Little girl! Look here!"
Sam had her hand up, poised to enter the code when she turned and saw a gun
being held to Seoung's head.
"I swear," Brock said through gritted teeth, "this is your last fucking chance.
If you do not open this door right now, I will put a bullet through this man's
head and when I get in there, I will show you why you do not mess with grown
men."
That was no threat; that was a promise and one he intended on keeping. He
pushed the gun harshly against the guard's head. "Do you want his blood on your
hands?"
The guard who was a new father looked at her and smiled. "I named my daughter
after you; I hope she grows up to be a fighter like you Sam." What he did next
shocked everyone in the room as he grabbed hold of Brock's hand on the gun and
squeezed the trigger. The gunshot was muffled on Sam's end, but the effect was
the same; there was a sudden jerk of the guard's body, blood sprayed from his
head and he dropped weightless to the ground, blood running from the hole in
his head to pool on the floor.
Sam looked from the body, up to Brock's green eyes, with renewed fight, she
keyed in the code for the safe and grabbed the thumb drive, shoving it in her
pocket.
"I know that little bitch did not just pocket what we came here for." The young
blonde man said. 
Brock looked as if he was done with all the shit that had happened in the last
five minutes. "Get the C-4, we are blowing this shit."
That gave Sam an idea of her own. She eyed the window and the steel edging that
sealed it within the wall and then her surroundings, she was in the testing
area of one of the most advanced chemistry and biology labs in the world; she
needed something that would give a thermite reaction; she just needed to find
chemicals that would go 'boom' when mixed together and she was sure to find
them in here. The only catch was finding and mixing the correct ingredients
together before the men blew open the door.
The men were still setting up the charges all around the steel casing so that
gave Sam a little time as they were going to need a lot of fire power to blow
through the structure. Sam began tearing through the cabinets and shelves in
the room, trying to find what she needed, when she heard a voice call out to
her.
"What are you doing now kid?"
Sam turned her attention to Brock who was leaning against the glass, looking
bored but his sharp green eyes were on her. 
"Finding ingredients to make my own bomb." Sam answered nonchalantly. If it
were another situation, Sam would have found it quite hilarious the way Brock's
eyebrows tried to meet his hairline.
"You are trying to make your own bomb?" Brock was torn between being amazed,
concerned that a child was trying to make a bomb and frustrated that they were
apparently dealing with a genius kid of some kind that was slowing down their
mission. He watched as the girl who the dead security guard referred to as
'Sam' dug through the cabinets and shelves looking for what she needed. "Don't
you think that is a little dangerous?"
Without stopping her task of searching Sam fired back, "don't you think that
what you are doing is dangerous?"
Brock had to chuckle, this kid pain in the ass as she might be was highly
entertaining. "Well, I am being generously paid. What are you getting from
putting yourself in harm's way?"
Sam stood on a chair to see on the high shelves. "Well, I have slowed you
assholes down from achieving your goal. Do you even know what it is that you
are after?"
"A thumb drive with information valuable to my employer."
"But do you know what that information is?" Sam stressed, getting annoyed when
she did not find everything she needed to make her bomb. She glanced over to
the door separating her from imminent death, the men were still setting up.
"I do not care about what is on it. I just need the fucking drive and I will
tear it from your cold dead hands." Brock calmly stated. "I do not want to have
to harm you, but I will do so if necessary and kid," he waved his arm at the
barrier between them, "it is more than fucking necessary. So, last chance, open
up, give us what we want and we will leave. I guarantee that you will not be
harmed if you open this door right now."
Bending down to look in a low cabinet, Sam spoke, "he looks as if the moment
this door is open he is going to kill me." Brock followed the line of direction
in which Sam pointed to see the young blonde man staring at her with open
contempt.
"Who? Mason? Nah, he won't hurt you. I won't let him."
Sam laughed, "I maybe thirteen, but I am not an idiot."
"Oh trust me kid, I definitely know you are not an idiot." Brock sighed, he
knew this was not going to be a smash and grab, but he had no idea it would
have been this difficult. He wanted to beat his head against the glass. "Come
on kid, please just open the door."
"Did you really just say 'please'?" Mason asked, looking at Brock, bewilderment
clearly shown on his face.
"Just do the fucking job you are being paid to do Mason."
"We are almost finished." He said and that got Sam's attention.
She hastily stood up and ran over to a shelf that was in the corner by the
door, looking from something to produce a small flame when her eyes somehow
spotted a bottle on the top shelf. Hopping up smoothly on the small desk that
was beside it, she grabbed the bottle and read the label, her eyes snapping to
the window she needed to get rid of. Without thinking about her movement, Sam
confidently stepped off the desk, landing on the floor with a small thud,
bottle in hand.
She walked by the glass door, close enough that if it was not there Brock could
have reached out and grabbed her. He saw the look on her face and knew his men
had to work faster to get what they wanted from her before she got out and away
from them.
"What you got there Sam?"
At the sound of her name, Sam stopped to address him. Looking from the bottle
to him, she held it up for him to see the label. "Something I would like to
throw in your face right about now Brock."
"Hydrofluoric Acid?" The guy named Rollins questioned. "She has hydrofluoric
acid Brock."
"I am assuming that is not a good thing from your tone and this little blood
thirsty child over here." Brock backed up from the glass door as Sam walked
over to another table and switched out the bottle's cover for one that sprayed
liquids.
"Where are we with the charges?" He watched as Sam calmly walked over the
window and with one final glance at him, she began spraying the liquid on the
glass watching as the glass was rapidly burned through by the acid. It then
clicked as to what she was going to do and he was both amazed and horrified.
"This is the 41st floor Sam."
Sam sprayed the glass as much as she could to burn it away. When there was a
big enough space for Sam to go through the window without hurting herself, she
ran to the far side of the room and without thinking twice about it, she ran at
full speed, jumped and hurled herself through the window. 
Brock was stunned for a moment by what he had just witnessed. "Fucking hell!
Blow it now!"
Sam was weightless for a few seconds as her body flew through the air before
gravity kicked in and her gymnastics training took over as she tucked and
rolled into the fall. Landing unscathed on the rooftop of the hotel, Sam stood
and looked up at where she had burned a hole through the window with acid,
smiling at her hand work.
Just then there was a deafening explosion and the sound of glass
shattering, along with angry shouts. Sam stood and watched as five angry faces
filled the space of the window, sharing down at her with murderous intent.
Throwing up both her middle fingers Sam grinned brightly. 
"That was both amazing and dangerous Sam!" Brock shouted.
Sam simply shrugged, happy to have put some distance between them. She watched
curiously, as they moved away from the window, wondering how they were going to
exit the building with fire trucks and police cars pulling up. She just needed
to make it down to the lobby, get to her father and she would be safe. However,
all thoughts fled her as she saw a black blur launch itself through the window
and drop into a roll like she did a few minutes ago.
She watched as Brock stood up, the smile falling from her face as she realised
there was no reinforced barrier between them anymore.
"Time's up Sam." 
She was still one moment and then running like hell the next. Brock cursed and
gave chase.
Sam ran as hard and fast as her legs could go, jumping over the
colourful lounge chairs scattered around the roof top pool. For some reason the
roof and pool at that time of day was void of people, but that did not stop Sam
from screaming for help at the top of her lungs as she ran.
As she ran close to the edge of the pool, she saw Brock's reflection close
behind her and turned left sharply once she could, hearing him slide and curse
behind her. She just needed to make it to the door that led inside from the
roof and she would be safe from him.
There was a loud bang and something hitting the off the metal door when she had
reached for the handle. Letting out a surprised yelp, Sam ducked and doubled
back, freedom and safety slipping from her fingers. She had ran to the other
side of the roof top that gave way to a long drop with a building currently
undergoing construction on the other side. 
The side of the building Sam saw had yet to be painted, the concrete raw but it
was finished, with windows installed, armed with nothing but her gymnastics
training and her quick thinking and a little fearlessness (her brother
preferred the word 'craziness') sprinkled on top, Sam redoubled her efforts,
ran to the edge of the rooftop and vaulted over the sheer drop between the
hotel and the building next door, landing on a ledge that was no wider that
four inches.
Sam plastered herself to the side of the building; her fingers gripping parts
of the concrete that jutted out for decoration as she calmed her breathing and
got use to the strong breeze that was now beating against her, thanks to the
change in height and closed off space between the two buildings that gave the
wind nowhere to go but up.
Brock looked on with a mixture of anger, shock, horror and admiration as Sam
struggled to open the window.
She finally got the window open slipped inside turning to face Brock who was
staring at her from the other building's rooftop. Winded from the last few
minutes of rigorous activity, Sam flipped Brock the middle finger, slammed the
window closed and disappeared.
"Brock what's happening?" Jack Rollins asked his leader over the shared comm
unit.
"The little brat got away."
"Should we give chase?"
"No, I am going after her, just get to the building under construction across
from the hotel without being seen and wait for my instructions." Brock took aim
with his assault rifle and fired at the window Sam had used to escape him; once
the glass had been cleared away he fired his grappling hook, when it caught on
the window ledge above he tested its stability and satisfied that he was not
going to fall to his death, Brock swung himself off the roof of the hotel
across the sheer drop and straight through the window he had shot out, landing
in a roll and getting to his feet in one smooth motion.
"I am in the building giving chase."
"Yeah, getting out of here is going to be a little harder than we
thought." Jack replied. "There are cops and fire fighters everywhere."
Letting out a string of curses, Brock proceeded forward in the direction he saw
Sam go. "I am going to kill that little girl dead when I get my hands on her."
He had his hand gun drawn, slowly making his way across the open space filled
with tools and equipment. His ears strained to hear the slightest sound, his
guard not lowering at all. 
Brock knew better than to underestimate Sam from what he had seen of her so
far. Not only was she fearless, but she could think quick under intense
pressure, not to mention her sassy attitude was a little bit funny. As he
walked through the empty shell of a half constructed building, his eyes swept
from side to side, when he felt a slight shift in the air behind him and
shifted immediately, dodging a hit from a piece of five inch thick rebar to his
head that would have surely if not knocked him out, cause immense pain. 
However, Sam was quick, and brought the piece of steel bar up connecting with
the hand in which Brock held his gun, making him cry out in pain and dropped
the weapon. He lunged for it but Sam kicked it away to some far corner under a
piece of heavy duty equipment.
Having passed being angry, Brock turned cold eyes on Sam who was wielding the
piece of steel like a bat. "You can really make life hard for people Sam."
She smirked, "that's funny, my brother says that all the time."
They circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move. 
"Do you really think that you, a thirteen year old girl can go up against a
trained Black Ops soldier?"
Sam readjusted her grip on her weapon, "well, so far I seem to have bested you
and your team."
"You're rather cocky."
She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. "I am a genius, I know I am one
but I am not cocky. All I can do in this situation is defend myself to the best
of my ability and even if you take me out, you won't get what you want." Sam's
gazed did not waver as she spoke. "What do you think I was doing when you
couldn't find me?""
That brought Brock up short, "what did you do with the thumb drive?" His eyes
tracked over her form as if searching for some tell-tale sign that it was still
on her.
Her smirk said it all and he was five seconds away from wiping that smug look
from her face.
"Bullshit." Anytime Brock thought back to this moment in time, he would always
curse himself for what he did next. His eyes left Sam to cast about the bare
half-done walls, the equipment, the concrete blocks and the cement bags when he
felt a sudden sharp pain in his knee.
Brock's knee that Sam had hit gave out and he fell, she raised the bar to hit
him again, but he grabbed it when she swung it down wrenching it from her
hands, throwing it far away from them while using his elbow to jab her
painfully in her stomach.
Sam stepped back a few paces, doubling over and coughing from the hit. She
sucked in a breath and glanced up to see Brock slowly getting back to his feet.
Her eyes locked on the staircase behind him and she made a run for it, her feet
hitting each step, as Brock cursed behind her and gave chase. When she had felt
his fingers brush against her shirt, she began jumping over a few steps to try
and create more distance between them.
That method work for a while before during a jump, Brock slammed his body into
hers, causing them both to fall and roll down the remaining set of steps.
Groaning in pain Sam crawled away from him.
"Where do you think you are going?" Brock grabbed her ankle, pulling her back
towards him, the dust and concreted fragments on the ground cutting her
delicate skin. He flipped her over on her back and stared down at her. "Enough
is enough." His words harsh and his breathing heavy. "You are going to give me
that fucking thumb drive right now, so help me God I will-"
His words were cut off with another pained groan, this time from Sam kicking
him in his crotch. He released her ankle in favour of holding his hurting
precious manhood, his other hand cushioning his head as he folded over on
himself. Sam shakily got to her feet and took off, her receding footsteps
echoing in the wide open space.
"Sam!" Brock roared. Getting to his feet, he hissed in pain as the movement
jarred his hurting manhood, as well as his bruised pride of a teenage girl
getting the better of him. "I swear to God, if you have made me incompetent, I
am going to sear your skin from your bones."
That threat shook Sam as she hid behind a wall, the thumb drive that she lied
about having hid burning a hole through her chest where she had hidden it in
her shirt, figuring it was safer there than in her pockets where its outline
would definitely be seen.
"Sam." 
She heard Brock's footsteps getting closer to where she was and her eyes
snapped over to another set of stairs that led down. She just needed to make it
to them and she would be able to get out of the building and away from him.
"Sam?" This time there was a question in Brock's voice. "Is that short for
Samantha?"
Sam held her breath, refusing to be trapped; she knew what Brock was trying to
do. Her ears listening to the sound of him coming closer processed the exact
moment she no longer heard any sound coming from him. Holding her breath, Sam
steeled herself and as cautiously as she could she slowly peeked her head
around the wall but saw no sign of him. Feeling brave enough to leave her
hiding spot, Sam stepped away from the wall still looking to where she had last
seen him.
"Hey kiddo."
Sam jumped and shrieked when she heard that menacing voice behind her. Turning
around she saw Brock standing tall before her, having no idea where he came
from.
"Ready to stop this nonsense and hand over the thumb drive?"
Her body running on adrenaline and instinct, Sam took off running towards the
set of stairs she had been eyeing only for her way to be blocked by Brock.
"Not this time Sam!"
She dodged his grab for her, running around him bypassing the stairs. Sam ran
through the unfinished building, Brock hot on her heels dodging work equipment,
jumping over any and everything in her way trying to out run Brock. It all came
to a head, however, when Sam pushed aside a plastic curtain separating two
sections, it was after she did so that she saw the wide gap in the floor. With
no time to stop she used her momentum to push her forward, her legs and arms
wind milling through the air, trying to get that extra push to make it to the
other side which she did.
Brock just a few seconds behind Sam, also had no choice but to jump, he landed
on the other side rolling a few times before coming to a stop. He got to his
hands and knees, looking up to see where Sam was, only for his heart to stop.
Sam was barely hanging on to the edge of the floor that gave way to a long drop
below. 
"Shit!" He was up and scrambling over to her in that instant, intent on
grabbing her and pulling her to safety.
The floor was covered in saw dust and concrete dust, making it so that Sam was
unable get a proper grip and pull herself up. Just as she saw Brock coming to
her rescue, she felt her grip slacken and gravity pulled her body down.
Unable to hold in the scream as she fell, Sam's hands shot out blindly and she
held onto something, stopping her sudden decent. Looking at what she had caught
hold on, she saw that it was a steel beam. Once she was sure that she had a
proper hold, Sam swung herself up on it, swinging her leg over it so that she
straddled it and looked down at the floor far beneath her.
Sam chanced a glance back up from where she had fallen and saw that Brock was
no longer there. Not taking the time to try and figure out where he had
disappeared to, she slowly begun making her way across the beam and back to
solid ground. Once she was back on her feet, her relief was short lived as she
felt something grab her from behind, lifting her off her feet only for her back
to connect with the hard surface of a work table knocking the breath from her
lungs.
Furious green eyes stared into her dark brown ones and she knew that she had
finally been caught.
"You know." Brock said from between gritted teeth, "I have a little brother
around your age and he is not half as annoying as you are. He is also the
reason why I have not put a bullet between your eyes as yet."
Not knowing when to quit, Sam shot back "sure it's not because you have
lost both your guns?"
Brock's face became even darker with anger and he pulled Sam up by the grip he
had on her shirt before slamming her back down on it. Sam winced as pain laced
her back. Brock grinned, even in the face of imminent danger, this child would
not back down; she might have been scared, but she was not running.
"I like you Sam. Sure you have been a pain in my ass, but I like you."
He had Sam pinned down on the table, his hand on her throat with her legs
hanging over the edge.
"Then let me go since you like me."
"Sure," Brock's voice was too cheery, "just hand over the thumb drive and I
will let you be on your way."
"No." Sam felt his fingers tightened subtly around her neck but kept speaking.
"Do you even know what is on it? That if it falls into the wrong hands, a lot
of people can get hurt? That they can be killed?"
There was a moment of silence where Sam in her teenage way of thinking thought
she had gotten through to Brock.
"Hmmp, I should probably raise my fee is this thing is so damn important."
"You said that you are Black Ops that means you are a soldier."
Brock had no idea where that question came from but answered nonetheless. "Yes,
I am."
"A soldier for the U.S.?"
"Yes Sam."
"Fuck you, you traitor." Sam began earnestly kicking, trying to get away from
Brock who tightened his hold on her neck to the point where black spots
starting dancing in her vision. Suddenly the pressure on her throat was gone
and she coughed, greedily pulling oxygen into her starved lungs. 
"Listen Sam," Brock's voice sounded oddly gently and when she could focus her
eyes again, he was looking down at her with a resigned expression. "I have
never hurt a child before and I do not intend to start now, so just hand over
the thumb drive and we will never see each other again.
"Suck my dick." She spat and Brock's eyebrows flew up.
"Why do you curse so much?"
Sam laughed, "well you don't seem to understand proper human language."
The smile on Brock's face was not nice. The next thing Sam was aware of was a
slight breeze by her face and a thudding sound. Looking to the side of her
head, Sam saw Brock's finger-less gloved hand wrapped around the black non-slip
grip of a knife with a wicked looking black blade, or at least what she could
see of it consider majority of the blade of embedded through the wood of the
work table close to the side of her head.
"Let's try this again, without the cursing please."
"Drop dead and go to hell."
Brock sighed and rolled his eyes skyward as if asking for strength and
patience. "Fine, be that way." With one hand still holding Sam down, his other
hand began patting down her jeans clad legs, feeling her pockets both front and
back, all the while ignoring Sam's indignant shouts. His hand moved down her
calves to the hem of her pants that he raised up to check her socks. 
"Stop touching me!" Sam wiggled, trying to get away from the roaming hands. "I
did not hide it in my pockets, socks or shoes asshole!"
"One: stop cursing and two: where did you hide it?"
Sam glared at Brock and he glared back, neither backing down. Sam huffed a
breath when she realised that they had been staring each other down for a full
minute. 
"It's in my shirt." She finally revealed where she had hid the thumb drive.
"I beg your pardon."
"A little too late for that. I hid the fucking thumb drive in my shirt
jackass."
Sam's world suddenly tilted again when she was dragged off the table and stood
up right.
Brock gestured to her, "take it out."
"Sure you don't want to get it yourself?"
"I am not sticking my hand down the shirt of a thirteen year old girl. That is
just begging for trouble."
Sam levelled him with a flat look. "You just felt up my legs." She pointed out.
"I did not- just give me the damn thumb drive."
"Alright, fine, no need to get your boxers in a twist."
Sam reached into her once white shirt that now had a light brown colour thanks
to all the running, rolling and falling that she did only for a look of
confusion to come over her face before she was pulling the neck of her shirt
away from her chest to look down it. Sam's look of confusion turned to horror
as she looked up at Brock.
"What?" Brock knew that look did not bode well.
Sam began shaking her shirt and when nothing fell out she became panicked. "Oh
God. Oh no." She spun in circles, her eyes wildly roaming the floor around her.
Brock squeezed his eyes shut, counted to ten and opened them again. "You lost
the thumb drive."
"I had it." Sam was still spinning. "I swear I had it. I put it in my shirt
when I came over here." She was in distress, not knowing what was now going to
happen since she had lost what Brock was chasing her for.
Brock frustratingly ran a hand through his hair and turned his back to Sam to
speak into his communicator. "Jack, the thumb drive has been lost."
"What?!"
"Get the men and -"
Whatever he was about to say next was cut off and his vision went black. Sam
stood behind him with a steel pipe clutched tight in her hands watching as his
body fell to the floor with a thud. Not waiting for his back up to arrive, Sam
high tailed it out of the unfinished building. Everyone was so concerned with
what was happening next door at the research facility that Sam battered and
bruised as she was, was able to slip through the crowd that had gathered and
into the hotel. 
Once inside she made a beeline towards the receptionist desk only to feel a
hand on her shoulder spinning her around. Fearing the worse Sam opened her
mouth to scream before her eyes landed on the warm brown eyes of her father,
concern etched in his face as he took in her frazzled appearance. 
"Sam? What happened?"
The adrenaline finally leaving her body and the last hour catching up on her
Sam felt tears gather in her eyes and knowing that she was safe with her father
she began crying. Harry not knowing what exactly took place in the time he left
Sam to now seeing her dirty and scratched up, he took her into his arms and
carried her back to their hotel suite.
Sam took a shower and changed into her pyjamas feeling a little bit better, she
found her father sitting on the balcony of their hotel room and went and sat on
his lap, curling up as small and tight as she could, resting her head on his
chest she listened to his heartbeat.
Harry wrapped his arm around her, the other stroking her hair. "Ready to talk
now?"
With a tired sigh, Sam regaled her father with what had happened half an hour
after he had left her. Harry listened, his mood often switching from amazement
to horror and back at hearing how his daughter had been fearless and determined
to keep potentially dangerous information from a bunch of highly trained
mercenaries and succeeded in doing so.
"So where is the data now?" Harry had to ask only to be astonished when Sam
began crying hysterically again. 
"It's in my suitcase, but daddy we need to destroy it!" She wailed, fat tear
drops rolling down her face as Harry consoled her. "It...can't...be...used."
She said in between hiccups.
"Sam, darling a lot of lives are depending on that data."
"Two lives were lost today and you almost lost me because of that data." Sam
pointed out, staring down her father.
"And just what do you propose we do?"
"Destroy it and say it was lost, which technically would not be lie."
"You say it as if it is so simply."
Sam removed herself from her father's lap and stand at her full height which
was not much, her hands on her hips. "It is that simply. You said that
everything regarding Meminisse is on that thumb drive, so we just get rid of it
and no more potential formula for a nerve gas."
"I can't just do that Sam."
"Can't or won't?" Her tone was cold and her eyes narrowed.
"I do not appreciate your tone of voice Samantha. A lot of work went into that;
people put in a lot of hours so that we could create that Sam, to help others
in need."
"So what, the fact that it can help people outweighs the fact that if it falls
into the wrong hands it can be extremely deadly?"
Harry sometimes forgot that his daughter was only thirteen when she argued with
him like this; making valid points without raising her voice. "If Sam, if it
does fall into the hands of unscrupulous individuals."
"You mean like today where Lee and Seoung were killed for it and I had to jump
from two buildings to keep it away from Brock and his goons."
"Brock? Who's Brock?"
Irritated, Sam rolled her eyes, "the guy who chased me dad. Please, do try and
keep up."
"Sam, just go and get the thumb drive."
"Wow." She dragged out the word, her eyes widening. "You sound a lot like
Brock. Wanting nothing but the fucking thumb drive."
"Language." Her father called to her as she walked back into her room to
retrieve the thumb drive.
"Here." She threw it at her father who was standing inside the sitting room.
She watched as he grabbed it out of the air, then as he took up the heavy
abstract art looking figurine and knelt down on the floor. "Dad?"
Sam jumped at the sound of the figurine’s heavy base smashing the thumb drive.
She watched with wide eyes as Harry repeated the act three more time, ensuring
that the thumb drive that held all the date for Meminisse was smashed to
pieces. He placed the figurine on the floor and looked up at Sam.
"There, no more potential nerve gas."
Sam smiled at what her father had just done and ran to embrace him. "Thank
you." He wrapped his arms around her and stood, lifting her off the ground.
"Let's go home. Since there's no data, there will be no conference and no point
in sticking around."
"Yeah." Sam agreed, her face buried in her father's neck.
"I can't wait for Billy to hear about this."
Sam groaned at the mention of her older brother's name. "Billy won't care, he's
a narcissistic asshole, just because he got a pretty face."
"Oh, don't be like that Sam." Harry smiled at her, "you have a pretty face
too." He received rolled eyes in response.
"He needs to read 'The Picture Of Dorian Gray'. Maybe then he will learn not to
be concerned with only his looks." 
"That is not true and you know it. He is also concerned with his business."
"Whatever."
"You can recommend that book to him when we get home." Harry placed her back on
the floor, "now go and pack, we are leaving tomorrow." He watched as she ran
back into her room before looking down at the smashed pieces before him. "The
things we do for our children."
===============================================================================
Contrary to popular belief, it was not the first time that Sam Wilson and Brock
Rumlow were meeting each other on that freeway in Washington D.C., nor was it
the first time they physically fought on the 41st floor of a building.
When Sam saw his face again that day on the freeway while being wrongfully
arrested, she was not sure if it was the same person.
But after getting the report from Maria Hill and hearing the name Brock Rumlow,
she definitely knew it was the same man she had ran from twenty years
earlier as a thirteen year old child with nothing but her gymnastics training
and her quick thinking aiding her. Sam had no idea if he remembered her but
that did not stop her from preventing him from achieving his goal yet again and
this time she was equipped with the proper training to beat his ass into the
ground. 
When the Triskelion came crashing down, she had asked around if they had found
his body to which she was informed that any bodies found were badly disfigured
and it would take time identifying them all.
So when two years after the fall of Project Insight, after having found Bucky
and assisting Steve in bringing him home, Sam received a call to report to
Avengers Tower, she was wholly unprepared to walk into the meeting room only to
come face to face again with Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins and have them stare
her down.
She was given the rundown that they had decided to turn themselves in and give
up all of HYDRA's secrets, so they all sat at the long glass meeting table, Sam
on one side, sitting between Steve and Bucky with Brock and Jack right across
from her, still staring her down as she stared back.
The shit hit the fan with a vengeance during Brock's report of a mission from
twenty-years ago when he and his team tried stealing highly classified research
data from a research facility in Hong Kong. Tony had pulled up some lost
security video feeds, that the entire Avengers team, saw a thirteen year old
Sam Wilson with defiance on her face, stare down a group of highly armed and
dangerous men from the other side of a glass door with one Brock Rumlow and
Jack Rollins at the fore front. 
All eyes slowly looked from the video Sam, Brock and Jack.
The entire room was dead silent before it erupted in pandemonium. Both Brock
and Jack were out of their seats, leaning menacing over the table and pointing
at Sam.
"I knew you looked familiar." Brock accused, righteous anger burning in his
hazel eyes.
Steve looked between Sam and Brock, confused while Bucky was tense, ready to
fight at a moment's notice. Tony was busy trying to find if there were other
cameras in the area that had picked up the chase, while Bruce had politely
excused himself from what was quickly becoming a stressful situation. Natasha,
sat back in her chair, feet up on the desk, ankles crossed, watching the scene
before her with calculating green eyes and a smirk on her face. Meanwhile Clint
was taking in everything with a bored sleepy look on his face.
"Do you know how much trouble you caused for us that day?" Jack looked ready to
lunge over the table and throttle her.
Sam felt the start of a migraine as she remained seated and calm; her eyes on
the two men before her as flashbacks to that day ran through her mind. 
Tony managed to quiet them down when he said that he had more footage and
pulled it up. 
They did not see what happened after Sam managed to escape the lab, but
they saw the climax of the chase, where Brock had caught up to Sam in the
building that was under construction. The team watched the interaction between
the two, up until Sam knocked Brock unconscious with a steel pipe.
"Atta girl!" Tony cheered, giving Sam a high five at which Brock glared at her
for.
"I still can't believe a thirteen year old girl got the better of us." Jack
commented as he watched the video. His eyes widening when he saw Sam drop the
steel pipe and reach into her shirt, pulling out the thumb drive she had told
Brock she had lost and putting it in her pocket. "Holy shit." He breathe.
In the blink of an eye Brock had launched himself over the table, his aim Sam's
neck. "You lying little bitch! You said that you lost it!" Sam was up and out
of her chair, Steve and Bucky getting in between them before Brock could do
anything. 
Sam smartly exited the room as the team held back a murderous Brock, running
into Bruce when she entered the communal kitchen.
"What happened?"
She laughed and shook her head, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge.
"Let's just say that things are going to be even more interesting now with
Brock and Jack."
Bruce didn't bother to question her further, knowing that he would find out
later. Opting now to sit in peace and quiet with Sam, while pandemonium
still reigned a few floors up.
 
***** Lil' Red (Sam/Natasha) *****
Chapter Summary
     Natasha is transformed into a four year old child and she is sticking
     to Sam like glue.
Chapter Notes
     Please HEED the WARNINGS below:
     This fic contains:
     Past non-consensual medical procedure done on a sixteen year old
     girl.
     Mentions/thoughts/recollections of child abuse.
     Mentions/thoughts/recollections of attempt/demand of a forced
     abortion.
     Meltdowns and breakdowns
     Accidental child injury.
     I have put in warnings left, right and centre. It is up to YOU, if
     YOU read them and HEED them.
     I know that there are assholes out there who like to stir up trouble,
     BUT, there are also individuals who are truly affected by what they
     read, so as I said before, HEED THE WARNINGS that are here for your
     own mental and physical safety.
     Harry Hart is not her father in this fic.
     This takes place before the third and final installment of my
     Obsession series.
     Natasha and Natalia are used interchangeably throughout the fic just
     because I can.
     Italics are Sam's inner thoughts.
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, POLITELY
     point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"What the hell happened?" Clint asked, as he, Sam and Steve entered the
quinjet. "It was a simple recon mission. What could have possibly gone horribly
wrong?"
Sam side-eyed him, "yeah, I was looking forward to going home. And why is Tony
on his knees?"
The three new-comers stared at Tony, resident genius on his hands and knees,
who himself was apparently looking at something intently under one of the
communication console tables. Bruce was off to the side, rubbing his temples.
"You want the long story or the short version?" He sounded tired and stressed.
"Short version." Steve answered.
"Ok, Natasha has been transformed into a toddler."
Silence reigned for a moment as Sam, Steve and Clint all stared at him.
"Fucking hell."
"Is Loki behind this?"
"I just wanted to go home."
Clint, Steve and Sam responded respectively, not the least bit perturbed at
hearing that one of their team members had been transformed into a child.
Stranger things had happen; the less said about those strange things the
better.
"Does she remember us?" Clint asked, concern lacing his voice over losing his
best friend.
Bruce shook his head. "It happened so fast, one minute we were looking through
a HYDRA lab and the next there was a bright white light. When the dust cleared,
there was a toddler Natasha staring back at us and it was hell getting her back
on the quinjet. Once we got her on board, she took off under the communication
console table and so far nothing Tony and I have done has made her budge from
her hiding spot."
"So what, you want us to give it a try?" Sam asked, feeling a headache the size
of the Grand Canyon form behind her eyes. She really needs to get back to D.C.
to her own bed and sleep for a week straight.
Tony was the one to answer her question, "actually, we were hoping
that you would do it." He stood up, his eyes never leaving the communication
console table where Natasha was holed up. 
"Me? Why me?" Sam was bewildered. If this was some sexist bullshit, that just
because she was a woman she should take over caring for the now de-aged toddler
Natasha she was going to beat Tony's ass.
"Because she has just stopped screaming and crying. We figured since you are a
counsellor for veterans with PTSD, that you would be able to coax her out."
Tony said and when he turned to face them, his expression one of pure
exhaustion and Sam understood how he felt all too well.
Tony sighed, dragging a hand down his face, "in addition, she is butt naked."
Sam rushed forward at that, getting down on her knees where Tony was before,
"why the fuck is she naked?"
Both Tony and Bruce shrugged, "her clothes didn't shrink when she did." The
latter said.
Sam got down flat on her stomach so that she could look into Natasha’s hiding
spot and staring back her were the biggest pair of green eyes she had ever
seen, on a flawless cherub face, with a waterfall of red curls framing a sweet
little face, with tried tear tracks.
"Hey sweetheart," she said gently, a small smile on her face, "how are you?"
Toddler Natasha stared back at her, her little legs tucked close to her body.
"You look cold sitting there in nothing but your birthday suit. Do you want to
come out here so that I can get you into some nice warm clothes?"
Natasha shook her head vehemently. 
"Ok, how about this." Sam sat up on her knees and shrugged out of her jacket
before resuming her previous position. "Here," she extended her jacket to
Natasha, "why don't you put that on and you will be nice and warm."
Natasha looked at her with distrust before slowly reaching out for the offered
article of clothing and snatched it quickly. All the while keeping her eyes on
Sam as she put it on with some difficulty. 
Sam smiled as she was practically swimming in the jacket. "You look so
adorable."
Natasha stared back at her, now fully covered in Sam's jacket. Satisfied that
at least one thing in this more than fucked up situation was somewhat dealt
with, Sam sat back up on her knees.
"Do you have any idea how old she might be?" She asked.
"I am assuming either three or four years old." Bruce answered, "she can form
full sentences, though she has difficulty pronouncing some words."
"We need to do a few tests just to make sure that whatever happened to her did
not mess her up internally." Tony spoke up. "We also need to figure out how to
reverse this."
"If it is reversible." Clint ever lacking a filter, said what they all were
thinking.
"Thor." Steve said, all eyes turning to him. "Thor needs to be contacted, more
than likely HYDRA was fucking around with alien technology again and this is
the result. He should be able to help us."
"Hey, guys." Tony said softly, tilting his head in the direction of the console
where Natasha had sought refuge. They all turned to see that Natasha had
crawled out enough from under the console table. Her eyes searching until they
landed on Sam. Once she found who she was looking for, Natasha got to her feet,
gingerly shuffling over to where Sam stood, all the while watching Steve,
Clint, Tony and Bruce.
Upon reaching Sam, where she only reached her knee, Natasha held up her arms.
"Up." Her voice was small sounding, but the commanding tone was unmistakable.
Smiling down at the adorableness before her, Sam obliged and picked up the
little girl who immediately wrapped her arms around Sam's neck, burying her
face in her shoulder as if hiding from the others.
'I know exactly how you feel.' She thought.
"You ok there?" Sam soothingly rubbed her back. "Can you breathe?" She asked
when Natasha did not respond. She received her answer when Natasha tiled her
head to the side so that she could glare at Sam with one eye.
"Well, I guess we all know who will be taking care of the pint sized
assassin." 
Sam's head shot up to look at Tony when he spoke, her eyes
wide. "What? Why me?" Sam saw her dream of going back home to D.C. for well-
deserved rest go right up in flames as she looked back down in those bright
emerald green eyes.
"Because she went to you." Bruce said. "She screamed bloody murder on me and
Tony and do you really want to leave a small child with those two?" He pointed
at Steve and Clint who looked rather offended at his comment."
"Excuse you," Clint spoke up, "I will have you know that I
am very responsible."
"But Clint, you do remember that one time you fell over the balcony railing and
fell three stories down, breaking your leg because you were not watching were
you were going?" Steve asked not so innocently and Clint looked murderous. 
"Fuck you Rogers."
"Language." Sam, Bruce, Tony and Steve called out. 
===============================================================================
During the time Sam became acquainted with the Avengers, she had learned not to
question certain things; that is why she did not question how under four hours,
the spare room of her apartment was transformed into a bedroom for Natasha,
courtesy of Pepper Potts who took one look at Natasha and lost majority of her
common sense. 
Sam looked around the room and swore a Barbie factory exploded in it, but Tony
advised her that Natasha once said if she had gotten the chance to have a
normal childhood, she wanted everything Barbie. 
'And just what the fuck is a normal childhood?" Sam thought bitterly as she
watched Natasha explore her new room with child-like curiosity.
And everything was Barbie, from the canopy bed (that Sam told her repeatedly
not to jump on until she jumped and bounced off it, only for Sam to have a
heart attack while catching her, something pint sized Natasha found hilarious),
to the mini vanity dresser, to the chest of drawers. Her entire wardrobe was
Barbie products, down to her underwear (there were pull-ups for bedtime, Sam
made sure to check), her hairbrush and even her bath products.
Sam felt dizzy from all the pink and Barbie products, remembering how her own
room was shades of blue and white, once the red came out of the paint, but the
look of joy on Natasha's face made warmth spread within her, except for that
certain area in her that would forever remain cold and empty.
"Hey kiddo."
Natasha spun around from where she was playing with a life-size Barbie doll,
her green eyes sparkling. Sam smiled at the secrets she knew those green eyes
did not hold as yet and was somewhat glad that her friend was getting a chance
to experience the life she was robbed of. 
"Want to have a nice warm bubble bath and put on some actual clothes?"
Natasha nodded and quietly shuffled behind Sam into the equally decked out
Barbie bathroom. Sam ran the bath, making sure that the water was not too hot
for Natasha's delicate skin.
"Cherries." A small voice said.
Sam's head snapped up from what she was doing and turned to Natasha. "What was
that?" Since she had spoken that one word on the quinjet when she had wanted
Sam to pick her up, Natasha did not utter another sound until just now.
'Something we both have in common. For different reasons I am sure.' Sam's
demons were rearing their ugly heads and she shook her head as if to dispel
them.
Satisfied with the temperature, Sam grabbed the cherry scented Barbie bubble
bath and poured in a generous amount, watching as bubbles and foam formed and
turned back to the pint sized assassin who came to stand beside her, swishing
her hands in the bubbles, child-like awe on her face.
"Can you take of the jacket or do you want help?"
Natasha turned towards her but did nothing else and Sam took that as her cue to
undress her. Once undressed and in the bath, Sam gave up after the third time
of telling Natasha that she was getting water on the floor from all her
splashing. There was about two inches of water on the floor, the knees of Sam's
pants and the front of her shirt were soaked, but none of that mattered with
Natasha's high pitched, happy squealing echoing in the bathroom.
"Sergeant Wilson,” Jarvis’s accented voice spoke, causing Natasha to stop
playing almost immediately, turning her head up to look at the ceiling as if
that is where the voice was coming from.
"Yes, Jarvis?"
"Mister Stark is requesting that Miss Romanoff be brought to the medical wing
for some tests to be done."
"Ok, give us a few minutes and I will have her there."
Sam looked at Natasha who was still staring at the ceiling. "That was Jarvis,
he looks after us, especially Tony. Now, how about we get you dried off and
into some clothes and then we can go visit the others."
Natasha was surprisingly obedient and kept still, that is until Sam turned away
to grab the clothes she had placed on the face basin to keep safe, turning back
to see that the space where the pint sized assassin was previously standing to
be empty.
"Jarvis?" Sam was not about to panic that she had lost a pint sized assassin,
in a building with over one hundred floors.
"Ms. Romanoff is currently running down the corridor butt naked and
laughing." Jarvis helpfully informed her.
"Thank you!" Sam was up and off the floor, after her little runaway like a
bullet from a gun. "Please alert the others that we have a runner."
"Already done and I have opened a communication channel for you all."
"And that is why you are my favourite Jarvis."
"Same goes for you Sergeant Wilson."
Sam hightailed it down the corridor, following Natasha’s high pitched squeals.
"Natasha! Come back here and put on some clothes!" Instead of doing as told,
Natasha kept running and Sam had no idea how a three year old could move so
fast. 'Damn assassin training.'
"I heard that you have already lost your child." Sam heard Tony's voice come
from somewhere overhead.
"I did not fucking lose anyone." She snarled, his words striking the wrong cord
with her.  
There was a moment of stunned silence and Sam took as calming a breath as she
could while chasing a naked squealing four year old. "Natasha took off like a
bat out of hell while my back was turned. I need all hands on deck in catching
her."
"Slippery lil' one isn't she." Everyone could hear the pride in Clint's voice.
"I cannot wait until she bites your ankle." Steve's voice sounded over the
intercom along with his thudding footsteps.
"Miss Romanoff is currently in the communal kitchen-, oh, ignore that she is
currently in the elevator heading down to Mr. Stark's lab."Jarvis helpfully
informed the five adults.
Something that sounded suspiciously like Tony choking was heard. "Jarvis, our
resident jolly green giant is down there."
There was a collective set of curses. 
"Is Bruce good with kids? Or will he hulk out and smash her? You said that she
freaked out earlier when you both brought her back to the quinjet; what if she
sees him and freaks out, causing him to freak out, he turns green and we reach
down there to find a destroyed lab with a naked, disoriented Bruce and a
squashed Natasha?!" Clint's voice was laced with hysteria and Sam wanted
nothing more than to break his face for putting that image in her head.
"Breathe Clint." Steve said in his 'no non-sense Captain America voice. "They
both will be fine." 
"We will see. Last one there is a rotten egg!" Tony like the child that he is
screamed.
The four of them almost collided with each once they entered the lab, only to
see Natasha calmly perched on a table, wrapped in a blanket, intensely
listening to whatever it was that Bruce was saying. They all breathed a
collective sigh of relief before Sam pushed open the glass doors and walked in.
Bruce looked up, a shy smile on his face, "hey guys, look who came to visit me
sans clothing."
"Natalia Alianovna Romanova."
Natasha’s head snapped around at the call of her voice, her eyes widening when
she saw Sam standing there with her clothes in one hand and the other on her
hip staring her down, before a sweet smile formed on her face.
Sam was having none of it. "Nuh-uh, wipe that smile off your face, I am not
falling for it." She walked towards the table and stood in front of Natasha. 
"You just led us on a merry chase you pint sized trouble-maker."
Natasha blinked up innocently at her.
"Dear Lord," Tony collapsed dramatically on the couch, they had all moved into
the lab for when someone decided to keep him company.  "She may not be her
normal self, but she still has a lot of her older self-personality traits."
"Come on." Sam lifted her off the table and held her against her hip. "Let's
get you into some real clothes." Natasha did not put up as fight as Sam carried
her around a corner of the lab for some privacy and got her dressed. "If you
are going to go running off like that, at least have some clothes on first. You
just went off like a light with you lil' pale butt out for the world and his
wife to see."
Natasha giggled at Sam's words and she smiled softly up at the little red
haired girl. 
"Glad to see that you are adjusting to your surroundings." Once Natasha was
properly attired, Sam stood and held out a hand for her to take but Natasha
held up both arms to be lifted up instead. "Really? We are just going around
the corner." Natasha kept her arms up and Sam rolled her eyes, acquiescing to
her demand. Once in her arms, Natasha again laid her head on Sam's shoulder,
nuzzling into the space between her neck and shoulder and Sam could not help
the smile crawling across her face.
"Hey, look who's finally clothed." Tony called out as Sam and Natasha rounded
the corner. "Well since that has been taken care of," he got to his feet. "Let
us take a trip to the medical wing, draw some blood, take some scans and see
what can be done about this lil' one."
"Please, before she runs again." Sam glanced down at Natasha who with her head
still resting on her shoulder looked up at her with all the innocence of a
three year old. The six of them made their way over to the medical wing. Sam
walked up to the closest bed "ok kiddo, hop onto the bed so Tony and Bruce can
take a look at you; make sure that everything is ok." 
Natasha did not budge.
Sam jiggled her a little. "Sweetheart?" She tried to put Natasha down herself
when she did not make a move, however, Natasha latched on to Sam, refusing to
be moved, a high pitched whining sound coming from her the more Sam tried to
remove her. "Tasha, come on, behave. Let me put you down so that you can be
examined."
"NO!" Natasha shouted, surprising everyone in the room. She grabbed handfuls of
Sam's shirt and held on for dear life.
Steve moved forward, wrapping his hands gently around Natasha's waist and
pulled slightly, that started a whole new shit show as Natasha began screaming
and thrashing, holding on tighter to Sam.
"Don't touch me! NO! NO! NO!" 
"Shit!" Sam exclaimed, "Steve, let her go!" 
He did as told immediately, stepping back as well, watching with big eyes as
Natasha had a complete meltdown, while Sam tried to calm her. The little red
haired three year wailed as all eyes watched, unsure of what to do.
"Shhh, it's ok. You're ok." Sam whispered in her ear, stroking her hair in a
soothing manner. "He's gone, you're safe Tasha. You're safe." As Natasha's
cries died down, Sam could not help the flashbacks that hit her like a freight
train, remembering her own experience of literally being ripped out of her
mother's arms.
'No, that was different. Steve was just trying to help. I was taken from my
mother.' She told herself.
Natasha hiccupped as she calmed down, her lower lip wobbled as she looked
around at the rest of the team, tears still rolling down her cherub cheeks,
dropping on Sam's shirt. 
"Hey."
Natasha looked up at her.
"You good now?"
Natasha's bottom lip jutted out more and a fresh wave of tears began. She
buried her face in Sam's neck and cried silently. Sam looked heaven ward as if
asking for help as she soothingly rubbed Natasha's back.
"Ok, let's see what we can do." She turned so that her back was facing the bed
and sat on it, shifting herself back so that they were both comfortable and
held out her arm to Bruce. "Take my blood so that she can see there is nothing
to fear and maybe she might allow her blood to be taken as well."
"That seems smart." Bruce commented as he tied a tourniquet around Sam's arm
and prepared a needle.
"Hey Tasha." Sam waited until she could see the little girl's face. "Look
here." She turned her head to look where Bruce had inserted a needle into her
arm, watching as blood filled the vial. As gently as possible, he removed the
needle and cotton, covering the small hole with a Barbie band-aid. "See it
wasn't so bad." Natasha looked back up at her. "Want to try it out yourself?" 
Natasha gave a small nod and Sam shifted her, sitting her so that her little
back was to Sam's front, with her arms wrapped around her tiny waist, grounding
her. Bruce stood in front of them, a warm smile on his face as he looked down
at Natasha.
"May I have your arm?"
Natasha obediently held out her arm, staying still as he tied a tourniquet
around it, only tensing when she saw the needle. Her free hand found Sam's and
held onto to it from the moment the needle pierced her skin, letting out a
small whimper until the needle was removed and covered with a band-aid like
Sam's.
"See, it wasn't so bad." Sam dropped a kiss on top of Natasha's hair, breathing
in the smell of cherries. "So, what now Stark?"
Tony spun around from whatever he was doing to face them, "well, now we run all
the tests known to man on her blood sample. See what they can tell us about
whatever this," he waved a hand at Natasha, "is. But, before that, just have
Pint Size stand over here so I can get a full x-ray." He stepped up to the
vertical x-ray machine that had Natasha eyeing it like a poisonous snake.
Sighing, Sam hopped off the bed, "want me to go first?" Natasha shook her head
vehemently. "Ok, you want to do this yourself?" Sam hoped that was the case.
Again, she shook her head that Sam was worried she would get dizzy and then
pointed at Clint who looked confused.
"Him."
"Me?"
"Get in Legolas."
Natasha, Clint and Tony said respectively.
"Why me?" Clint grumbled but did as told.
"Because Sam is her foster mother and Natasha will not sacrifice her
shouldanything go wrong."
Sam was both annoyed at Tony for using that term and grateful that it was Clint
who would be used as a guinea pig and not her; some things about her anatomy
she wanted to remain secret.
"Gee, thanks." Sarcasm dripped from Clint as he stood still, there was a beep
and then he was covered from head to toe in a blue light for a few seconds and
then it was gone. "See? Nothing to fret." He said as he stepped out of the
machine. "Your turn."
Sam put Natasha without any fuss and the toddler walked confidently into the
machine and turned to face the group of adults, the look on her face one of
utter determination.
“She looks like you when you were ninety-five pounds soaking wet and decided to
take on a group men twice your size Stevie.” Bucky said from behind them,
causing them all to jump at his silent entrance.
Steve elbowed him viciously in his stomach. “What are you doing here? Aren’t
you supposed to be somewhere in the middle of nowhere giving Coulson a
headache?”
“That shit got taken care of and I heard that Tasha got shrunk. Got back as
soon as I could.” Bucky’s eyes looked at the child in the x-ray machine.
The x-ray was over in a few seconds and Natasha ran out and back to Sam, her
arms held up indicating she wanted to be picked up and Sam obliged. "You were
so brave." She praised and was rewarded with a bright smile.
Ok," Tony spoke up, "Brucie Bear and I will analyse her blood and x-rays and as
soon as we know anything you will all be informed."
The team nodded and filed out of the medical wing with Sam heading towards her
apartment to give Natasha lunch as everyone could hear her little stomach
growling from a mile away.
===============================================================================
Lunch was thankfully, a painless affair. Natasha had agreed instantly to a
peanut butter and jelly sandwich, something Sam remembered being adult
Natasha's favourite and took a chance. They sat across from each other eating
lunch with Natasha being a rather well behaved lunch date and keeping still
while eating. 
Thoughts of her own childhood of not having enough to eat flashed through her
mind and as she looked at Natasha licking her fingers clean, Sam saw the child
sitting before her transform into a younger version of her own self, only she
was not calm like Natasha but terrified. Terrified of the person sitting across
from her, once she began living the fairy tale little girls always dreamed of. 
She snapped out of her less than pleasant memories when she felt a little hand
slapping her thigh. Looking down she wondered when Natasha had moved from in
front of her to stand beside her.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I ate my lunch. Can I go play now?"
Sam glanced at her plate to see that she had in fact eaten everything. "Yeah
baby girl, you can go play." While she cleaned up after their lunch, Natasha
played quietly in the living room by the floor to ceiling windows. From what
Sam understood, six of Natasha's Barbie dolls were going to space via a pink
stuffed hippopotamus driving a lime green Barbie convertible car. She shook her
head in amusement, remembering her own active imagination.
Once the kitchen was clean, Sam joined her small charge in the living room,
sitting at the window seat, note pad and pen in hand, making lists. Lists
always helped Sam when she felt out of sorts and this time was no different; if
anything, she needed lists now more than ever. Sam found her mind slipping
elsewhere while completing her task; it kept going to her childhood and the
horrors she experienced growing up.
She eyed Natasha who was now fighting to keep her eyes open while she played.
"Hey sweetheart."
Natasha slowly turned her head in Sam's direction, her eyes blinking blearily
at Sam.
"Would you like to go laid down for a nap?"
Sam couldn't help the laugh that escaped her when Natasha simply looked at the
floor, laid down and folded her arms to rest her head on. "No, not here." She
picked up Natasha with ease and carried her into her Barbie tricked out room.
The pint sized assassin was out like a light before Sam placed her on the bed.
===============================================================================
Around three o'clock that same afternoon, Sam was called down to the lab and
the news she got was bittersweet.
"So," she rubbed her temples, "you mean to tell me that there is no way of
undoing this?" She looked at the men looking back at her and the two resident
geniuses did not have much to offer but shrugs. "This is not fucking
happening." She sat down on the nearby work bench, her head in her hands. 
"I know this is not an ideal situation for any of us." Tony said, "but, you are
doing a fine job of being a mother to Natasha."
Sam's head snapped up at that comment, her eyes narrowed as they bored into
Tony's, the entire room going still from the intensity of her glare.
"Do not refer to me as her mother." 
Tony and the rest of the team were taken aback by her facial expression and
tone.
"I- I didn't mean-" Tony stammered, the normally confident genius glancing
around the room. "I am sorry Sam." He immediately turned around and began
fiddling with some item.
An exasperated sigh left Sam. "Any word from Thor as yet?" She asked the room
at large to which she received multiple shaking heads. 
"Pardon me Sergeant Wilson, but Agent Romanoff is awake and asking for
you." Jarvis informed Sam as she had requested he do when she was leaving the
apartment.
Standing up, Sam stretched her arms above her head, feeling the day catching up
on her and it was only the first day. "Thanks Jarvis, please tell her that I am
on my way up."
"Will do Sergeant Barnes."
The rest of the day passed in relative ease, something Sam was thankful for.
She did not have a problem with looking after Natasha, in fact she was rather
enjoying interacting with the assassin as a child. The only drawback being that
she kept having flashbacks of her own terrifying childhood.
Sam got Natasha ready for bed, sitting beside her in the Barbie bed that
thankfully had on blue sheets, she was never a fan of pink. 
"Story." Natasha said before slamming her thumb back into her mouth, something
Sam noticed she only did when sleepy. 
"Ok." Sam made to get up and grab one of the many children's story books from
the bookshelf in the room when she felt a small hand on her arm and followed it
to see wide green eyes staring at her.
"No, tell me a story."
Sighing, Sam leaned back against the headboard, Natasha snuggled up against her
side and Sam wrapped an arm around her, stroking her hair as she opened her
mouth and started telling a story she knew from heart. "Once upon a time, there
was a little girl who always wore a red cloak and was extremely brave."
Sam had not even reached the middle of the story when she heard Natasha's
breathing slow down and knew that she was well into dream land. Slowly and
gently, Sam eased herself up from the bed, pulling he covers up to Natasha's
neck, putting the stuffed Iron Man toy beside her and with a kiss on her
forehead, she exited the bedroom, ensuring that the bedside lamp was on in case
the toddler woke during the night.
After having a hot shower, the steam so thick it invaded Sam's lungs, she got
into bed, thinking to herself that it was not that bad of a first day and
hoping that the other days are this easy while Natasha is stuck as a child. Sam
fell asleep to thoughts of what to give Natasha for breakfast, lunch and dinner
the next day.
===============================================================================
She was ten years old again and back in that gilded cage she had spent the last
five years of her live. She could hear the sound the belt made as it moved
through the air before striking the delicate flesh of her small back, splitting
open the skin.
Sam bit her lips, using her hands to cover her mouth, knowing better than to
make a sound.
The belt made an arc through the air again before whipping her back, making yet
another mark on her skin, tears fell from her eyes as she cowered by her bed,
turning her face into the luxuriously padded comforter, hoping that she could
suffocate herself and escape this misery.
Sam awoke with a start, her skin soaked with sweat, phantom pains lacing her
back. Her heart was beating a mile a minute.
"Sergeant Wilson, the year is 2018, you are in the Avengers' Tower in your
apartment." Jarvis' soft accented voice informed her. "You are safe, your
teammates are all asleep, little Natasha included."
Sam could not help the uptick of her lips at how Jarvis referred to Natasha. 
"Was I screaming Jarvis?"
"No, Sergeant Wilson, but your heart rate spiked as did your breathing."
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, hunching over to rest her elbows
on her knees. Wiping a hand down her face, Sam felt drained from the dream; it
had been a long time since she had one of those particular dreams and put it
down to everything that is happening with Natasha. 
"I guess me not screaming the place down is an improvement."
"I would not know Sergeant Wilson; I have never heard you scream from a
nightmare."
"And I hope it never comes to that."
There was a moment silence as Sam sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes roaming
her barely lit bedroom.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
Sam was surprised at the offer, "no, thank you Jarvis."
"Whenever you wish to talk I am here."
"I know and thank you for that Jarvis."
"Anytime. Good night Sergeant Wilson."
"Good night Jarvis."
Feeling better after that short exchange with Jarvis, Sam got up to clean up
herself and change her pyjama top. Settled in bed once again, Sam spied her
cell phone laying innocently on the bedside table. Doing the mental
calculation, Sam decided that it was an appropriate time to call her mother.
Picking up the phone, she hit '7' the speed dial number under which was her
mother's number.
The line rang three times until it picked up and Sam smiled at hearing her
voice.
"Sammy Girl, is that you?"
"Hi mommy."
"Ah, sweetheart." 
She heard the smile in her mother's voice.
"How are you darling?"
"I am doing well. You?"
"As fine as can be." There was a few seconds of silence when her mother spoke
again. "You said that you are well, yet you are calling when it is three
o'clock in the morning where you are."
Sam remembered that nothing ever got pass her mother, "I had a nightmare
about him."
"Oh, Sam, baby."
"I can never forgive him mom."
"I know sweetheart, I know and I would never ask that of you."
Her mother inhaled deeply and Sam knew she had something to say.
"What is it mom?"
"He asked for you the other day."
Sam pulled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arm around them, while the
other clutched the phone to her ear.
"He wanted to know how you were doing; told him that I had not spoken to you in
quite some time, so I didn't know. He wanted to call you, but he had did not
think that the call would have been well received."
"Tell him that I am as well as can be, all things considered."
"I will tell him."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me just yet, your brother has been asking for you as well."
"Oh God." Sam groaned.
"I think the only thing that is stopping him from jumping on a plane and coming
to harass you is the fact that swimming nationals are right around the corner."
Sam laughed, "small mercies and all that."
"Well you owe us a visit." 
"I make no promises, but I will try and visit before the year is over."
"That is all I ask. Go get some sleep now. I know you need it."
"Bye mom, love you."
"Love you too Sammy."
Sam ended the call, but instead of putting the phone back on the bed side table
and doing as her mother told her, Sam opened up the photo gallery on her phone,
flicking to a particular picture. 
It was of a little girl seated in an expensive antique chair, dressed in a
royal blue puffy dress, her hair held back from her face by a head band of the
same colour. A tall, regal looking man, stood beside her with a hand on her
shoulder, in a navy blue suit, his strong aristocratic features on full
display, the same shade of green eyes staring back at her, only  where his were
cold, hers were filled with sorrow.
With a tired sigh, Sam closed the app on her phone and settled back into bed
where she fell into a restless sleep for the rest of the night until a tiny
redhead little girl came barrelling into her room at seven o'clock.
===============================================================================
Four weeks. 
It took four weeks for Thor to return to earth and when he did, he brought
along his brother, something that Clint made sure to voice his disapproval
about loudly before exiting Tony's lab, the trickster god staring after him
with mirth in his eyes.
Sam stood off to the side, Natasha in her arms glaring daggers at Loki, who
seemed to take offense to the look he was receiving from someone who only
reached his knee in height.
"Friends, I know that you are all highly disapproving of Loki being here, but
when I heard of the situation from Heimdall, I thought it best that he come
along, since he knows all about magic." Thor explained.
This is the first time Sam was meeting Loki, but she had heard all about him
and none of it was good. "How is he to help us if his mouth is locked shut?"
she asked, eyeing the contraption that had a broad piece covering his mouth
with narrowed bands that stretched around the sides of his face to lock at the
back of his head.
"Oh, that." Thor smiled at Loki who rolled his eyes in annoyance. "He was
annoying me all the way from Asgard, so I put it on him. Let me take it off."
He instantly ripped the contraption from Loki's face and the god hissed in
pain.
"There is a release mechanism on that for a reason, you buffoon." Loki said,
red marks on his pale skin.
"I know, but this way is much more fun for me."
Loki opened his mouth to no doubt snap back with a scathing remark when Sam
interrupted them.
"I know you both have a lot of issues between you to work through, but we have
an actual problem right now," Sam pointed to Natasha, "than your family
squabbles, so tell us what you know and you can go back to your bickering."
Loki stared down at Sam who glared back at him unwavering.
"Fine," the god acquiesce, "put the little spider to lie down." 
Sam laid Natasha down on the work table without any tears or screaming, making
sure to stay in her line of sight. She watched with keen eyes as Loki came to
stand on the other side of the table, from his hands a calming blue light
glowed.
"If you do anything other than try to help her or find out what is wrong, I
will hurt you." She threatened, her voice cold steel.
"And how would you know otherwise?" Loki's grin was mischievous.
"Try me." 
The temperature in the room fell a few degrees as Sam's words rang out, Steve,
Tony, Bucky and Thor, sans Bruce who had been informed by Jarvis about their
special visitor before he had reached the lab, all exchanged nervous glances
with each other. Never having seeing Sam act this way before.
Loki himself, knew that the challenge was not idle and nodded his head before
placing his glowing blue hands over Natasha's small body and did a full sweep
of her entire body. Once he was done, Natasha sat up, immediately reaching out
for Sam who scooped her up without a second thought.
"The little spider is as well as can be aside from this physical and mental age
regression." His eyes that were focused on Natasha moved to Sam. "This type of
magic is of Asgard, however," he emphasised when he saw the hopeful light in
everyone's eyes. "It has been warped and twisted and as such it would take time
to undo. But," he spoke over the raised voices, "but," Loki raised his voice
slightly to be heard, "in the same amount of time it would take me to undo this
magic, the magic would wear off and the little spider would be back to her
regular older conniving self."
"And just how long is ‘same amount of time'?" Tony questioned, his brown eyes
trained on Loki.
"Four months." Loki informed them cheerily.
A dropped pin could have been heard by the silence that followed. Everyone was
stunned into silence.
Natasha looked around at the adults in the room, unsure of what was happening.
She tugged on Sam's shirt to get her attention. Sam absently mindlessly began
rubbing her back, trying to soothe the tears and anxiety she knew was about to
come from the small child who could sense when the atmosphere in a room became
tense and heavy, while she herself, was trying to wrap her mind around what she
was just told.
It was Steve who broke the tense quiet. "So what, on the day that the four
months are up she will suddenly be an adult again?"
Loki nodded, "by my calculations, yes, that should happen. I will in the
meantime, see what I can do to speed up the process. I know how much you all
mean to Thor." He glanced at his brother who was currently being stared down by
Natasha when he had gotten too close to Sam and smiled slightly. "He will be
unbearable if she is not back to normal soon."
"Aye, let us return to Asgard, the sooner we leave the sooner you can get
started on your research." Thor said.
Steve escorted both Loki and Thor back up to the roof to have Hemidall bring
them home. Meanwhile Tony and Bucky watched as Natasha climbed all over Sam as
she sat on the couch. 
"What the fuck-"
"Language!" Sam and Tony called out to him.
"-are we to do for the next four months while Natasha is like this?" Bucky
waved his hand at the toddler.
"Well, technically, it is now three months." Tony pointed out. "I mean she has
been like this for a month already."
"That is still too long a time." Sam groaned, her head falling back on the
couch. "We can't just leave her by herself in the world's smartest tower when
we go on missions and I do not trust anyone else to look after her as well."
"I thought you were taking some time off from missions while Natasha is in this
state." Bruce said as he and Clint entered the lab.
Sam's head snapped up at that, almost connecting with Natasha's. "What are you
talking about?" 
"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Bucky asked as well.
Clint looked accusingly at Tony, "you guys didn't tell her yet?"
Her eyes darted from one nervous face to another nervous face. "Tell me what?"
"Umm..." Bruce, the quiet scientist who could turn into a giant green raging
monster looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
Just then they all heard the entry code to the lab being keyed in and all eyes
turned to look at Steve who stopped in his tracks.
"What?"
Five pairs of eyes stared at him, three pairs with nervous guilt, one pair with
confusion and the last pair slow igniting anger. 
"What happened?" He asked again.
"Did you bench me from going missions Steve?" Sam's voice was hard, that even
Natasha noticed and stopped playing, coming to kneel beside Sam and lean into
her side.
Steve gaped at her, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Listen Sam-"
"No." She stood up so fast, Natasha fell flat on the couch since her support
was no longer there. "You decided, no," she spun to face the other men in the
room, her so called team mates "you all decided without my input to bench me
from missions?" She stared them all down and she found that they could not meet
her gaze.
"Sam just a reminder that I am only finding out about this as well." Bucky
pointed out.
"Shut the fuck up Bucky."
"Language." A small voice called out and Sam turned to see Natasha looking up
at her, her small legs folded under her body as she pushed herself into the
couch back, a smile on her face.
Reigning in her anger, Sam turned back the room, "let me get this straight, at
some point you all decided that I am to be benched in order to take care of
Natasha."
Steve stepped forward, "Sam, please understand, we are not benching you because
we think this is a woman's job; we just figured it would best to have you go on
minimal missions-"
"Or none at all." Tony interjected.
"-while Tasha is like this." Steve spoke over him. "You are the only one that
she really feels comfortable with."
Sam couldn't help but acknowledge that Steve was speaking the truth and she
knew deep down that if she should go on a mission right now, after spending the
last four weeks with a mini Natasha running behind her, her head would not be
in the game. "The next time you all decide to make a decision concerning me,
kindly involve me in the decision making process." 
With her piece said, Sam scooped up Natasha, "come on sweetie, let's get out of
the tower and go get lunch on Tony's dime." Natasha was all for that plan as
she let out a whoop as they walked out of the lab.
"Nice going there Rogers." Bucky mocked.
===============================================================================
Sam was sorely regretting having allowed Natasha to have ice cream after her
lunch and again after her dinner, as the tiny red haired assassin, ran down the
hallway butt naked again with Sam chasing after her, attempting and failing to
get her dressed for bed.
"Natalia!" Sam called as she got down on her knees to look at Natasha who had
taken shelter under the dining table. "Come on Red, let's get you dressed and
into bed, we both had a long day and I don't know about you but I am wiped."
"No!" Natasha giggled as she tried crawling away from Sam who gave up trying to
be gentle and grabbed her by her tiny ankles, holding on as Natasha squirmed as
she successfully got her into her underwear.
Sam huffed out a tired breath. "Pyjamas now." She crawled under the table,
making sure to stay low as she wrestled Natasha into her bed clothes and once
the child was fully clothed, Sam held her to her chest. "Shhh, now." She calmly
soothed her, trying to get Natasha to calm down. "Come, breathe with me and
calm down Red." That seemed to be working as Natasha had settled and was now
running her tiny fingers along Sam's arm.
"Sam?"
Both heads snapped up to look at Tony who was looking back at both of them in
confusion.
"Tony!" Natasha called out causing Tony to look at her in amusement while Sam
groaned in frustration.
"Great, I had just gotten her to calm down."
Tony crawled in under the table beside them, watching as Natasha stretched out
her hand to his arc reactor. "Not that I am judging but why are you two under
the table?"
Sam released Natasha and she crawled to Tony to look at the glow that was
coming from his chest, forgetting that she was uncomfortable around other
people.
"Red is hopped up on sugar and took off like a naked bat out of hell when I
dried her off, finally caught her under here." 
"I cannot wait to see Natasha's face when she sees all the footage we have of
her when she's back to her old self."
The two friends shared a grin.
"Hey listen," Tony scratched the back of his neck looking nervous, "about
earlier, when I referred to you as Natasha's 'mom'."
"Water under the bridge." Sam assured him.
"Still I am sorry, I didn't mean to offend you or make you angry." Tony began
rambling, "I mean, you would make a great mom, you have been doing a great job,
not that you need anyone telling you what you know-"
"I can't have children." Sam cut him off, watching as Tony's mouth snapped shut
when she spoke those words. He opened his mouth a few times afterwards but
nothing came out and Sam was surprised that she was able to shock him into to
silence. Hell, anyone she told that would have been shocked into silence.
"I have not the slightest idea of what to say to that revelation and I have
three doctorates."
"You don't have to say anything; just keep it to yourself."
Tony nodded, his brown eyes shining not with sympathy, but understanding and
Sam tilted her head, the unspoken question passing between them. "It take three
members to form a club, so welcome to the club Sam."
Sam's eyes widened as she looked at Tony, with a tiny Natasha slowly tracing
her finger around the arc reactor, her thumb in mouth a sign that she was
winding down.
"Thanks." 
===============================================================================
Two months in with a tiny Natasha and Sam was going kill one of her teammates.
"Who thought it was a good idea to leave her by herself in the training room?"
Sam's voice was low as her narrowed eyes glared at the two guilty looking men
before her.
Bucky and Clint stood before Sam by Natasha's hospital bed in the medical wing
as her arm was patched up.
"We did not leave her by herself." Clint spoke, eyes staring down at his
feet. "All we did was look away for a few seconds and then we heard crying."
"I do not CARE!" Sam shouted making the two men, the medic attending to Natasha
and Natasha herself jump. "You asked me if you could take her with you to the
training room to run around, so that I could have a few hours to myself.
Something I was extremely grateful for, not to mention I trusted you, only for
Jarvis to inform me not even an hour later that she was being carried to the
medical wing because she stabbed herself with an arrow."
"Well," Bucky drawled in his Brooklyn accent, "technically, she only scratched
herself, not stab."
Sam not taking Bucky's smartass response all that well, got in his face as much
as her 5'1" frame would allow. "Listen here well Barnes." Bucky gulped at her
deadly tone. "She had to get five, five stitches from how deep she cut herself,
with an arrow that she should never have gotten her three years old hands on
considering she should have been watched like a hawk by a fucking sniper and
expert marksman!"
Clint wanting to stop any further bloodshed stepped forward, "you are right, we
should have kept a closer eye on her. You trusted us with your child-" Sam's
eye twitched at his phrasing but said nothing as he continued speaking, "we are
extremely sorry that she got hurt and we both promise that it will not happen
again."
"It better not." Sam then turned to face Natasha, absolutely mystifying both
men when she went from the goddess of death to peaches and cream. "How's my big
girl?"
Natasha held up her bandaged arm to her and Sam gave her a gentle kiss on it.
"Ice cream?" Came the soft question.
Sam smiled down at her, "yeah, you can get some ice cream." Natasha wrapped her
arms and legs around Sam as she was scooped up. Sam levelled both Clint and
Bucky with another glare before walking off, Natasha waving to them as they
left the medical wing.
===============================================================================
Something had been knocked loose in Sam when she had received the news of
Natasha being rushed to the medical wing earlier. She had left her in the care
of two of her teammates and had settled herself in front of the floor to
ceiling windows to meditate. Running down the medical wing, Sam was not
prepared to see blood gushing from Natasha's arm, the little girl screaming and
crying in pain with the majority of the outfit Sam had dressed her in that very
same morning covered in blood.
She remembered the number of stitches she had required once herself as a child.
Stitches, casts, pins, rods, plates. Her insides was reminiscent of
Frankenstein monster's face.  
Sam had put Natasha down hours ago, but it was a bad night for Sam. 
Nightmare after nightmare. Not of Riley falling from the sky, no, but of her
time with him. she dreamt of her own fall all those years ago, bones breaking
with a sicking sound, blood running and upon the fifth time of screaming
herself awake that night, her back on fire with phantom pains, Sam rolled over
on her bed, only to come face to face with a shady figure standing right there
by her head. Barely stifling a bloodcurdling scream, Sam hurriedly tuned on the
light to see Natasha, clad in her blue Barbie pyjamas, holding her stuffed Iron
Man toy, green eyes wide with fear.
"You were screaming."
Sam groaned and fell back on the bed. "Did I wake you?"
"Yeah," came the soft reply. "I came to help and told the man in the ceiling
not to wake the others."
"I am sorr-" Sam's breathe was knocked out of her when Natasha climbed on top
of her, settling her small body on Sam's torso, with her ear pressed to her
chest. "Red?"
"Tell me story of the girl in the red cloak."
"Ok, then let's get you back to your bed."
Natasha grunted in protest, "wanna stay here, you're warm and your heart sounds
like music."
Switching off the lamp, Sam wrapped her arms around Natasha, feeling her small
body inhale and exhale and began the story. She again did not reach the middle
of the story before she heard deep breathing coming from the small body lying
on top of her, before Sam herself fell back asleep, dreams filled with a little
red haired girl in an equally red cloak running around the tower.
Sam woke the next morning, her nightmares a thing of the past as she fell the
warm body atop her stir and big sleepy green eyes met hers. 
"Morning."
Natasha squinted her eyes at Sam then at the drawn curtains where a little
sunlight was peeking in. She suddenly glared as if the sun had personally
offended her and buried her face in Sam's neck.
"No, come on Red," Sam rubbed her back encouragingly, "we have to get up. I
have to go make breakfast, while you play and enjoy your childhood." She heard
a grunt from Natasha. "Alright, up we go." Holding tight to Natasha, Sam sat
up, swung her legs over the side of the bed and exited her bedroom, heading
towards the kitchen. 
Sam had just gotten dressed when she was informed by Jarvis to report to Tony's
workshop. She made her way down to the workshop with Natasha trailing behind
her wearing a child's version of Tiana’s green wedding dress in The Princess
and The Frog, singing a silly song she made up and tossing her stuffed Iron Man
toy in the air and catching it.
"Please tell me we have good news." She said by way of greeting Bruce once the
doors to the workshop opened, Natasha running to Dummy as soon as they were
granted access, the robot beeping happily at seeing his friend. The look she
received already gave her an answer.
"We received a message from Loki." Bruce spoke, "he said that he is having
difficulties countering the spell, but he is still working at it."
"But? I know there is a 'but' there." 
Bruce hesitated, "but he said that it might be best to just let the spell run
its course."
"What?"
"Sam," Bruce raised his hands to show he meant no harm, "I know it seems like a
long time but according to Loki, there should be only two months left of
Natasha in her toddler form."
"Two months too much." Sam snapped. "Not to mention Loki keeps throwing around
the word 'should'. What are we going to do if the spell does not wear off in
two months’ time?"
"Then we keep trying." 
"And what do we do in the mean time?" Sam was furious, her mind was going a
mile a minute each day; torn between wanting her friend back but enjoying the
time she spent with this version of Natasha shrouded in nothing but childish
innocence, not a drop of red in her ledger as yet. However, just the knowledge
that one day she was going to wake up to no longer having a little red haired
girl running, wreaking havoc within the tower was tearing her apart.
"Natasha is a very valuable member of our team and with both her and me out of
commission, we are taking hits." Sam was beyond frustrated, it seemed as if the
world and its wife caught wind of Natasha’s condition and came out of the wood
work. Every other week there was some sort of mission to save the world. 
"Tony is still in the medical wing recovering from broken ribs, Clint has a
broken collar bone and the only reason Steve and Bucky aren't laid up with them
is because of the super soldier serum pumping through their veins." Still, she
was thankful that no one had tried coming after Natasha.
"I know, I know.” Bruce said, his tone placating, "I know you are frustrated
and the world seems dark right now, but look at this way," his eyes drifted
over to Natasha who was running circles around Dummy, "she is finally getting
to have the childhood that was stolen from her."
"Yeah," Sam said softly, sorrow in her voice. She felt a gentle touch on her
arm and turned to face Bruce.
"You ok?"
No, no, she definitely was not ok. She could not voice this, the back of her
eyes burned with the gathering of tears and her throat felt tight. Bruce must
have noticed that she was one word away from breaking down.
He looked back at Natasha, "hey Tasha, how about I take you to visit Tony and
Clint and then we can go watch a movie and stuff ourselves with ice cream."
At the suggestion of ice cream, Natasha was at his side instantly, taking the
hand he offered her, Bruce smiled down at her, before looking back at Sam.
"Go relax, get some 'me time'." He suggested.
"The last time someone suggested I go and relax while they watched Red, less
than an hour later I was called down to medical."
"That won't happen with me. I promise."
Sam nodded and waved to Natasha. "See you later Red."
Natasha smiled up at her and what she said next was like a bucket of cold water
being thrown on Sam. "Bye-bye mommy."
The world ceased to exist around Sam as her brain only settled on those three
words. She was unaware of both Bruce and Natasha leaving. She felt sick, her
hands were trembling and she felt cold all over.
Going to the elevator, Sam waited patiently as the doors opened and closed
after she had entered it, feeling as it began the ascent to her apartment
floor.
"Jarvis, please stop the elevator."
"Is something the matter Sergeant Wilson?" Jarvis asked, but did as told.
"No, I just feel like screaming."
"Oh." There was a moment of silence before Jarvis spoke again. "Then by all
mean, please go ahead Sergeant Wilson. We all have to scream sometimes."
Without wasting another second, Sam opened her mouth and released a blood
curdling scream in the small enclosed space of the elevator, her voice
ricocheting off the mirrored walls.
Sam spent the majority of the day by herself, after her meltdown in the
elevator she went to the training room where she spent four hours beating the
sand out of the punching bags, to the point where her knuckles were bruised and
busted.
"You ok there?" 
A voice asked from behind her when she had managed to burst open her third bag
of the day. Turning, Sam came face to face with the steel grey-blue eyes of
Bucky.
She scoffed, "I am just swell." She walked over to the benches, unwrapping her
knuckles as she did, Bucky trailing behind her.
"Where's your shadow-holy hell Sam!" Bucky's eyes looked at her
bloody knuckles. "Sam, what happened?"
"Nothing."
"That does not look like 'nothing' Sam."
"Just leave it alone Bucky."
"No Sam." His voice was firm and brook no argument. "Clearly something is
wrong."
"And it's nothing you can help with me." With those final words, Sam got up
from the bench, leaving the training room and Bucky staring at her.
Later that night, hours after Sam at put Natasha to sleep, she kept replaying
that scene over and over in her head as she stared up at her dark ceiling. The
little red haired child calling her 'mommy'. 
Natasha calling her that, ripped her to shreds. It burned her to know that she
would never have a child of her own flesh and blood call her by that title and
by God did it hurt.
Sam's eyes glanced around at her dark bedroom, her eyes barely making out
furniture in her room. To her, it seems as if the shadows were moving, closing
in on her and without a second thought she was up and out of her room. Her legs
carrying her hurriedly to the elevator.
"Jarvis, please keep an eye on Natasha and take me to the medical wing."
"Certainly Sergeant Wilson."
Sam leaned against the cold mirror of the elevator's interior. The cold did
little to break her out of the panic that she knew was seconds away from over
taking her. The elevator doors opened, revealing a dimly lit corridor of the
medical wing and Sam allowed her legs to take her where she wanted to go, her
mind too numb to pay attention.
Tony was up and working on a tablet, when he heard the doors to his room open.
"I know, I know. I am putting it away so don't tell Pep-Sam?" His words broke
off in confusion as he looked up when he heard the hitching breath, his eyes
widening when he saw Sam plastered to the door of the hospital, tears running
down her face and her chest heaving with the force of her sobs.
"Sam? What is it?" 
Sam shook her head, not being able to answer her friend's question, she walked
over to the hospital bed, crawled up beside him and threw her arms around his
neck and burying her face in Tony's shoulder as she cried. 
"Sam?" Tony stroked her hair. "Jarvis, is Natasha ok?"
"Yes, Mister Stark along with all the other inhabitants of the tower." Jarvis
dutifully answered. 
Sam held on to Tony as the emotions of the last two months caught up with her.
"She called me 'mommy'." She told him once she calmed down, still holding
tight, with tears still streaming down her face.
"Oh Sam." Tony squeezed his arms tighter around her as tight as he could with
broken ribs that seem to hurt less than the pain his friend was so obviously
experiencing. "I am so sorry."
"She called me 'mommy' and I felt as if I had been doused with cold water when
reality bitch slapped me, reminding me that I am in fact not her mother and she
is just my friend trapped in a spell."
Tony held his friend tight, his throat felt as if there was a lump in it from
the pain he was feeling for his friend. "I know you do not want to hear this,
but right now Sam, you are her mother."
 
Sam released another sob, curling up even more into Tony's side.
"Our Natasha is in there somewhere, but right now, she is just a little girl
who you have been so fastidious in looking after; she trust you to keep her
safe and so far you have been doing a damn good job."
Sam sniffled.
"Now, contrary to popular belief, I do pay attention to my surroundings and
those who inhabit said surroundings, so I know that looking after Natasha is
doing a lot more than just making you realise what you can't have."
At his words, Sam sat up so that she could look at him and knowing brown eyes
bored into hers.
"I know that something has been dredged up from your past with this crisis we
are experiencing." Tony looked at his friend, her tear streaked face, the
silent agony raging behind her eyes. "I won't ask you what happened; your past
is your business and yours alone, but please remember that you have people who
love you surrounding you. Just keep that in mind."
"Sometimes I wish that she would just stay small; that the spell won't wear off
and that she will have to grow up normally." Sam softly confessed, feeling
nothing but evil and selfish for what her heart truly desired.
"Oh Sam." Tony whispered, his heart breaking for his friend.
"I will never be able to have a child and sometimes I forget that Natasha is
not mine but a valuable member of our team and we need her to return to her old
self."
"Yeah, we all want that, but for right now, until the moment the spell wears
off she is your child, so cherish this gift that you both have been given."
A single tear fell from Sam's eye, she gave Tony a watery smile, "you are
rather insightful."
"I do not know why everyone seem so surprised when they realise that." He
beamed at her.
The following morning, after Sam's two meltdowns, found her and Natasha sitting
in the living room. Natasha sat between Sam's legs as the she brushed the soft
red hair in her hands, wondering how best to broach the topic that had caused
her nothing but pure heart ache.
"Why did you call me 'mommy'?" Sam asked Natasha gently, deciding the best way
was to just come out and ask.
"Aren't you my mommy?" Natasha asked with only the innocence a child can have,
her back to Sam as she played with her Iron Man stuffed toy. "You take care of
me and give me ice cream when I get boo-boos."
Sam sighed heavily inward, "I know that Red, but what gave you the idea that I
am your 'mother'?" She asked, hoping to God that she was not going to hurt this
innocent soul sitting in front of her.
Her heart constricted when Natasha turned her innocent green eyes on her, "we
have the same colour eyes." She whispered and her simple matter of fact words
made it seemed as if having the same shade of emerald green eyes was all that
was needed to secure them as mother and daughter; and maybe, just maybe that
was enough for Natasha.
Sam felt her eyes burn with tears that wanted to fall at her response and she
could not help but wonder if her own children would have had her eye colour.
More than likely considering it was a strong hereditary trait. One she got from
her own mother.
===============================================================================
The third month saw Sam up at three o'clock in the morning with a sick Natasha,
who had just thrown up for the second time that night, had a fever of 102
degrees and was miserable and would not stop crying.
"Come on Red, we have to get your temperature down or else I will have to take
you to the medical wing."
Natasha whined brokenly, "no."
Sam continued pacing the floor of Natasha's bedroom, the little girl in her
hands as she tried to soothe her discomfort. "Sweet heart, we need to get your
fever down and then you will feel better."
Her plea was met with a wailing cry. "No mommy! T'cold." Due to Natasha being
ill, she had resorted to one word answers and cutting her words short, so Sam
had to piece together what she was saying.
"Sam?"
The sick child in her hands barely stirred at the new voice in the apartment. 
"Bucky?" The question was clear in Sam's voice when the man in question walked
into the room, still dressed in his tact gear.
"Steve and I just got back when Jarvis told me what was happening." Bucky
explained, looking at a tired Sam and a miserable looking Natasha. "He figured
I would be able to help since I spent most of my life looking after Steve."
"Any idea of how to get her fever down? I tried children's Panadol but she
threw it up twice, I tired sponging her down, but she screamed bloody murder
that it was too cold and my last resort is taking her down to medical."
"No." Natasha whined again, before promptly throwing up on Sam.
"Ok, let me take her." Bucky reached out and grabbed Natasha, the small child
too sick to do more than curl up against him. "You go get cleaned up while I
take of this little one."
"Thanks." Sam gingerly began walking out of the room, trying to not drop
Natasha's sick on the carpeted floor, when a weak voice stopped her in her
tracks.
"Mommy?"
"I am coming back Red. I am just going to get cleaned up and then we will make
you all better. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Sam got cleaned up in record time and made her way to the living room where
Bucky had propped Natasha up against the arm rest and was feeding her small
pieces of chipped ice. Natasha looked up blearily at Sam and stretched out her
tiny arms. She felt like a furnace when Sam picked her up and held her close.
Bucky turned sober eyes on Sam, "We have to take her to medical. Her
temperature is dangerously high and not going down."
Sam soothingly rubbed her back when Natasha whined at having to leave the
comfort of the apartment. She sighed tiredly.
"I figured."
"I will come with you." Bucky got up and followed them.
In the few minutes it took them to get to the medical wing, Natasha was dozing
and Sam hated that she was going to have to wake her when she was finally
getting some rest to be examined. They were greeted by the on call physician, a
middle aged lady with dark brown knowing eyes, a thick head of curly black hair
that she scraped back into a bun with not a hair out of place, and flawless
olive coloured skin except for the small wrist tattoo on the inside of her left
wrist. She gently took a still dozing Natasha who was too out of it to protest
being taken from Sam.
"I called ahead and told them what was happening."
Sam looked at Bucky with gratitude shining in her eyes, thankful that she was
surrounded by such great friends. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
They stood side by side on the other side of the hospital bed as the doctor
examined a barely awake Natasha. Sam answering all the doctor's questions.
"Sergeants Wilson and Barnes, it seems that little Natasha here has caught a
mild case of the flu." The doctor explained.
Both Sam and Bucky looked from the sick child on the bed to the doctor and back
to Natasha. 
"That," Sam pointed to Natasha "is 'a mild case of the flu'?"
"Well, she does not have a runny or stuffy nose and does not seem to be
experiencing diarrhoea. However, I wish to keep her overnight as her
temperature is too high, especially for a child of her age and she needs some
fluids in her since she has been vomiting." 
"Yeah, ok." Sam nodded, looking at Natasha's small form on the bed. "Can I stay
with her?"
"Sure you can." The doctor smiled kindly. "I will have someone bring in a cot
for you."
"Thank you."
Once they were alone, Sam sat by the bedside, taking one of Natasha's hand in
hers.
"Want me to stick around?" Bucky asked.
"Ah, no, you go get cleaned up and some rest. I know you must be exhausted."
"Call me if you need anything."
"I will. Thank you Bucky."
"Anytime."
===============================================================================
The fourth month had Sam being woken up by an excited Tony.
"Tony have you no etiquette for properly waking up someone."  Sam asked as she
sleepily stumbled her way out of bed.
"No time for proper waking up etiquette." He said, bouncing on his toes like a
bunny on crack. "Grab Natasha and get down to the lab."
"What? Why?"
Tony was already out of her bedroom when he spun back and stuck his head
through the door. "Thor and Loki are back and the god of mischief swears that
he finally has something to change Tasha back to her old self."
That extremely big piece of news immediately had Sam wide awake. On one hand,
she wanted her friend back, but on the other, she had gotten used to the pint
sized assassin, taking care of her and being called 'mommy'. She wanted to be
selfish and have that for a bit longer, but the team needed their assassin back
and so she went and got Natasha. 
Together, they made their way down to the lab where Steve, Bucky, Clint, Bruce,
Tony, Thor and Loki were all waiting for them. Contrary to Loki's nature and
thinking humans to be simple minded, took his time to explain what he had found
and how he was going to change Natasha back, all without any snide remarks,
answering all the questions that were thrown his way. 
Once Sam and everyone else were satisfied that Natasha was not going to turn
into s slug from drinking the blue sparkling liquid in the vial Loki had
produced, Sam sat her down on the hospital bed that someone, more than
likely Steve, had dragged down to the lab.
"Hey sweetheart," Sam stood in front of Natasha, holding onto her little hands,
"you are going to take some medicine ok."
Bright green eyes met her own, "and then we can go and play mommy."
Sam wanted to break down bawling. She wanted to grab Natasha and run with her,
but she stayed strong and nodded, "yeah and then we can go and play."
She stepped back allowing Loki to come forward and open the vial, carefully
giving it to Natasha who smelt it.
"Smells like blueberries."
Loki smiled warmly at her, "it does and it even taste like blueberries. How
about you give it a try?"
Everyone watched with baited breath as Natasha put the vial to her lips and
drained the liquid. There was a few seconds where no one spoke. Suddenly
Natasha was literally glowing blue and Sam was about to murder Loki when there
was a bright blinding light. When the light died, it was to reveal a grown
disoriented Natasha sitting on the bed dressed in an adult size
pink Barbie outfit.
"What happened?" Natasha asked looking around at the surprised and happy faces
looking back at her. "Why are you all looking at me like that? What am I
wearing and what the hell is he doing here?" Her green eyes zoning in on Loki
who smirked at the murder in her eyes.
"Well she is definitely ok." The god of mischief commented. "My work here is
done."
Natasha looked around, her eyes suspicious, "work? What work?"
Tony laughed, "boy have we all got a story for you. But for now, we just need
to examine you and make sure that everything is ok."
Sam stuck around long enough to hear that her friend was ok, but she quickly
booked it to her apartment that was too loud with the silence that was
engulfing her. 
Gone forever were the childish squeals of a little girl making a run for it
after her bath. 
Gone were the little mumbling as a little girl played with her toys and made up
stories.
Gone was the enormous joy Sam had taking care of a little girl entrusted to her
protection.
Sam slowly slid down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest as she look
at the toys scattered around her apartment.
"Sergeant Wilson, my readings indicate that your heart rate is increasing. Are
you ok?"
She smiled at the A.I.'s concern, "I will be Jarvis." After a moment's thought
Sam asked, "hey Jarvis, can you do me a favour?"
"What is it Sergeant Wilson?"
"I need to take a trip, but no one can know where I am going. Can you keep it a
secret for me?"
There was a moment of silence.
"I can Sergeant Wilson, but I will have to keep track of you in case something
should happen."
"Thank you. That is all I ask."
===============================================================================
"Going somewhere?"
Sam jumped a mile in the air. She spun around to see Natasha looking at her and
then pointedly at the open half packed suitcase on Sam's bed.
"Ah, yeah. Just taking a little trip to visit my family."
Natasha stepped further in the room, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, an
emerald green flannel shirt and no shoes, looking younger than her age.
"Were you going to say anything or were you just going to leave?" She tilted
her head to the side and Sam had to look away, tears gathering in her eyes from
how much Natasha looked like her Lil' Red with that one gesture. 
"You were weren't you?" Natasha's voice was accusing.
Sam resumed her packing, anything to get away from the piercing green eyes
trying to see through her soul. "You don't understand Tasha."
"What do I not understand? That the woman who took care of my for the last four
months did not even wait around for longer than ten seconds in the lab after I
was changed back? The same woman who I called 'mommy' had her apartment closed
off for the last four hours that I had to pull a 'Clint' and come through the
vents?"
"I was wondering how you got in here. Thanks for clearing that up for me." Sam
tried to joke.
Fed up with Sam's deflecting, Natasha walked over to the bed, grabbed the
suitcase and shoved it far to the other side of the bed. Sam looked at where it
ended up.
"I must say, you were a lot better behaved as a child than adult."
"What is going on Sam?" Natasha demanded. "You have the same sad look on your
face that you sometimes had when I was little."
That sucked all the air out of the room. Sam sunk down on the bed, dropping her
face into her hands.
"You remember that?"
Natasha nodded, "I remember everything; including running around the tower butt
naked." Her eyes soften as she looked at her friend. "There were moments when
you were so happy and times you looked so sad that I thought you would never be
happy again. In my childish mind, I thought you were sad because of me."
Sam looked up at her in horror, "no Tasha! I was never sad because of you."
"I know that now. But can you tell me why you are sad and why you were going to
run away?"
Natasha looked at Sam who was looking back at her before she got up and walked
to the other side of the bed to retrieve her suitcase. 
"Sam we are all your friends here. If you don't want to talk to me, I know that
one of the others will listen. I can personally recommend Clint. I know he may
not look like it, but he is a damn good listener and he gives great advice."
"Thanks Tasha, but this is something I have to do myself."
For the first time since Sam had met Natasha she saw a look of uncertainty on
the master spy/assassin's face. 
"I just need to do this and I will come right back. I promise. I am just going
to visit my family and put some demons to rest."
Natasha nodded, "you call me if you need back up or even just to talk."
"I will." Sam promised.
===============================================================================
Ten hours later found Sam staring out of the window of her father's home office
at the well maintained garden of his fucking estate. She sat in his high back
leather chair, her feet crossed at the ankles resting on the window sill. She
never thought that she would have set foot back in this place. In this hell in
which she had grown up where she was forced to keep a secret; a secret even her
father was not aware that she knew of, to herself, a secret that only Riley
knew of which he took to his grave. 
She looked around the office, taking in the expensive decor, remembering how
every time she was summoned here as a child she thought that she would never
leave it alive. Sam recalled the number of places in this mansion,
where her blood was spilled and her bones were broken. Sam recalled how she had
helped her step-mother escape this hell on earth, only for her father to drag
his run-away bride back to four years later. She remember showing her step-
mother the scar and how they held each other tightly as they both wept at the
cruelty dealt to them.
Sam closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, holding her breath until her lungs
screamed for oxygen. This is also the place where her father apologised for his
cruelty towards her and her step-mother, the place where he had asked her to
look him in his eyes as he begged for forgiveness for not giving her the love
she deserved, for holding a loaded gun to her head the night he almost went mad
with anger after discovering that his young wife had ran away. This is the
place where he had changed and became a human being towards her and her step-
mother and it was all due to her little brother, whom her father had wanted to
get rid of the moment he found about the pregnancy but relented after Sam and
his wife fought for the unborn child to be kept and whom she loved and adored,
and would go to the ends of the earth for.
She held her breath when she heard the office door open and close, the sound of
her father's shoes silenced by the thick carpet he had in there. It wasn't
until he was half way behind his desk that he realise his chair was occupied.
"Jesus Christ!" He exclaimed, "Sam?"
She turned to face him at the sound of her name. She looked at her father and
his strong, 6'5'" imposing figure. Even at the age of fifty-seven, he was still
fit, his tailor made suits still fitting him like a glove, his hair still jet
black with not a single gray hair in sight and still thick, his jawline and
cheek bones were still strong, only the slight creases at the corner of his
sharp green eyes were a giveaway that he was in fact human and therefore
aging. 
Sam knew that she shared his youthful genes, as well as the sharp green eyes,
and the jet black hair, the only difference between them was the colour of
their skin, but when standing side by side, there was no question that she was
his child.
A brilliant smile broke out on his face and he grabbed her hand, pulling her up
and out of the chair and into a bone crushing hug that she did not return.
After a few seconds he released her, but kept his hands on her shoulder,
looking her over.
"Not that I am not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? Is everything
ok?" His concern was so genuine and Sam almost wished for the days when he was
cruel to her, at least then she would not have set foot back in this place.
"For four months, I had the privilege of caring for the sweetest, most adorable
and loving little three year old, green eyed, red haired little girl you would
ever have the pleasure of meeting." Sam said, noting the look of confusion on
her father's face. "There was an accident and I ended up taking care of her
because she somehow bonded with me."
"Oh Sam, did you need help? You could have called your mother, you know she
would have loved to help you take care of a little child."
Dear God, Sam knew, she knows that her mother (she had never thought her as
anything but that) would have helped and she also would have known how taking
care of a little Natasha and getting attached to the little version of her was
slowly killing Sam now that she did not have her anymore.   
"I took to calling her 'Red'," Sam continued, "not because of her hair colour
but because she loved the story of Little Red Riding Hood. She also loved
sleeping on my chest, she said that my heartbeat was like music." Her father
smile gently at that, but all Sam could remember was his glares and scowls
often directed at her as a child.
"She was entrusted to me and I took care of her. I did a damn good job if I do
say so myself."
"I am sure you did." Her father squeezed her shoulders. "What happened to her?
You said that you had her for four months."
Sam smiled sadly "she is back where she belongs."
The look of sadness in her father's eyes, for Sam's pain made a dark coldness
flare up in her.
"Do you remember what you did to me when I was sixteen?" She demanded not ask,
the taste of venom on her tongue.
Her father looked confused for a little until his eyes widened and he slowly
dropped his hands from her shoulders. "Sam, I-"
"You know," she cut him off, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. "After
that incident, I convinced myself that I did not want kids. That I did not want
to chance being like you, if I should have children. I convinced myself that I
was scared of turning out like you, when I knew that truth. I knew deep down,
that I would have been a damn good mother."
"Sam-"
"Taking care of Red was more than enough proof that I would have been a great
mother. She loved me and I loved her. She was mine for those four months and
then I had to give her up and guess what daddy?" Tears pricked at the back of
Sam's eyes but she was determined not to cry in front of this man. He had taken
more than enough tears from her and she was not going to give him anymore. "It
is slowly killing me. You took something from me when I was sixteen, because
you were such a cruel monster and with that ugly scar carved deep into my skin
I made myself believe that I did not want any children."
She stopped speaking, taking a few deep breaths before continuing, her father
looking at her like her words were killing him and she felt a swell of cruelty.
"I had a taste of what it was like to have a child and now in the cruel light
of dawn, it is tearing me apart because I remember what you did to me."
"Christ, Sam, if I could go back and redo our entire life together, I would."
Her father's eyes were glassy and Sam could only remember one other time his
eyes were like that; the night he had begged for her forgiveness. "I hurt you.
I hurt both you and you mother so badly."
"You hurt all three of us." Sam said. "You remember my birth mother right? And
how awfully you treated her as well?" 
The secret, the secret. Tell him that you know the secret. A voice that sounded
a lot like Riley hissed at the back of her mind but she ignore it.
"Dear Lord, Sam-"
"Do you remember what you did to me?" She asked one final time.
"Yes," her father answered resigned, "I remember and I want to rip out my own
heart every day for what I did to you. For what I took from you."
Sam nodded, "good. I should not be the only one who remembers and suffers. To
this day, I still have no idea what I did to deserve such cruelty. The only
crime I can think of that I committed was when I drew my first breath
and continued breathing."
Her father opened his mouth to speak when the door opened and a voice spoke up.
"Dad, have you seen my- Sam?"
Sam pasted on a smile and spun around. "Mikey!"
The face of the sixteen year old boy who stood in front of her, broke out into
a huge grin.
"Sammy!"
He closed the small distance between them and pulled her into a tight hug,
lifting her off her feet and spun her around. "Sammy!" He laughed and she
laughed with him. "It is so good to see you." He said once he had put her back
down.
Sam stared up at her 6'1" sixteen year old brother, the spitting image of her
father and grinned. "It's good to see you too Mikey."
"When did you get here? How long are you staying? Does mom know you're here?"
He rapidly fired off questions, not allowing Sam to answer before asking
another. "When are you leaving? Are you staying here? Is everything alright?
Can we dine out tonight in celebration of Sam coming home? Did you know she was
coming?" He directed the last two questions to their father who was watching
their interaction.
Sam turned to look at him, her eyes hard as he nodded. "Yes."
"Great!" Mikey grabbed Sam's hand, pulling her out of the office as he yelled,
"mom! Guess who's here!"
The office door gently closed, keeping Sam's and her father's conversation
safe. As well as the secret that Sam never told anyone about, except for Riley.
A secret she told no one about, until she told Brock Rumlow, after he had faked
her murder and taken her captive. 
Chapter End Notes
     Sam's father did not rape her, but had a hysterectomy done on her
     without her consent. I read upon the procedure, but for the sake of
     this fic, we are ignoring the medical ethics and facts of performing
     this type of medical procedure on a sixteen year old girl, especially
     on one who did not consent.
***** Friends Don't Touch Friends Like That. (Sam/Bucky/Steve) *****
Chapter Summary
     Steve gets tipsy off of the Asgardian mead and almost does the
     unthinkable of forcing himself on Sam
Chapter Notes
     Please HEED the WARNINGS below:
     This fic contains:
     ATTEMPTED RAPE and NON-CONSENSUAL TOUCHING.
     DO NOT read if it is not your cup of tea.
     HEED THE WARNINGS that are here for your own mental and physical
     safety!
     Y'all should know the drill by now: If you see any errors, POLITELY
     point them out to me.
     ENJOY!!!
     I DO NOT own any of the characters in the fic below. This is written
     purely for the enjoyment of the writer and the reader. No profit is
     being made from this or any of my other works.
Sam was currently curled up reading one of her favourite books on the plush
couch in the apartment she shared with Steve and Bucky whenever she visited the
Avengers Tower. Only she and Bucky were currently in the apartment; Steve
having joined the rest of the team and a few guests a few floors above at party
thrown by Tony. Sam had been invited but she declined, she was tired and not up
to partying, Bucky's reason for not wanting to attend she had no idea, more
than likely he did not want to be forced to socially interact with anyone or
maybe he was just as tired himself.
Bucky had come out a few minutes earlier to get a drink of water, asked Sam
what she was reading and then retreated to his bedroom and that was it. Sam
went back to her reading, lost in a world of dandelion fields and a tall tower,
where magic was plentiful when Steve came stumbling in.
Steve's eyes were glazed, his cheeks flushed, a few button were pulled on his
blue button up shirt and Sam smiled in amusement, marking where she had reached
with her finger, she focused on him.
"Looks like you had fun."
Steve laughed and plopped himself down on the opposite end of the couch. "I
did!" He giggled and Sam shook her head.
"You are so drunk. What did you drink?"
"Ahh," Steve closed his eyes and ran a hand through his already messed up hair,
making it even messier. "Thor put some Asgardian mead in my whiskey."
"And it has clearly knocked you on your ass." Sam got up from the couch. "Stay
right there, I am getting you a big ass glass of water." 
"Thanks Sam. You're a great friend!" Steve shouted, clearly too far gone to
remember to use his indoor voice.
Sam came back and gave him the water. "Sip it slowly, I am not in the mood of
cleaning up your puke."
Steve nodded as did as told. When the glass was half full, he placed it on the
coffee table, leaning back in the couch and turning his head to look at Sam, a
soft smile on his face.
"What?"
He smiled drunkenly at her question. "You're a great friend."
"You said that already Steve." 
"No, you," Steve stretched his hand out, intending to grasp her hand but his
coordination was thrown off and his end up touching her knee instead. "No, Sam,
you are a really good person. You gave me and Natasha refuge when we had
nowhere else to go, you fought alongside us, you helped me look for Bucky and
even right now you stayed with him instead of coming to the party. You really
are a good friend Sam."
Sam laughed, "well thank you for acknowledging how awesome I am, but I really
was tired and not in the mood for a party."
"Yeah, sure." Steve patted her knee, "whatever you say." He left his hand on
her knee, using his thumb to rub circles on it. "You know, when we first met, I
had a crush on you."
Sam raised an eyebrow at his confession, something she had no clue about.
"Really now? You hid it well."
"I know." Steve sighed. "There really wasn’t ever a good time to tell you about
my feelings and as time passed they gradually faded back into platonic
feelings."
"Oh, so you're good? No wounded heart."
Steve smiled a blinding smile and patted her knee again. "Nah, I am good." His
touch on her knee slowly turned to a caressing touch and Sam glanced down at
his hand as it moved from her knee down her leg only to be joined by his other
hand.
"You ok there Steve?"
Steve was looking at her legs with a serious look of concentration. "Your legs
are so smooth." He began rubbing her other leg, his hands going higher and
higher with each stroke and Sam was slightly becoming uncomfortable.
"Umm...thanks, I guess?"
"No, they really are." He surprised her by laying his cheek on her bare thighs,
rubbing his equally smooth skin against hers. "How'd you get them so smooth
and soft?"
"I use a great moisturizer." Sam tried sliding her legs out from under his
upper body that was now pressing on them but he would not budge. "Come on
Steve, get up and let's get you to bed."
"No, I am going to sleep right here. So soft." He sighed and Sam rolled her
eyes.
"Come on you over grown golden-retriever; my legs are going to fall asleep
if you sleep on them."
Steve groaned, rubbing his hand higher on Sam's thigh and she caught it,
holding tight to it; fully aware of how short her pyjama shorts were. He turned
his head so that his chin pressed into her leg, and looked up at her. "Is
everywhere else on you just as soft?"
"Huh?" Sam was thrown by his question.
Steve smiled disarmingly, rising to his knees so that he was towering over
Sam's smaller body, causing her to lean back against the arm rest. He caressed
her face, running his fingers from her temple to her cheek. "I asked, if
everywhere on your body is just as soft as your legs." 
"I-umm..." Sam licked her lips, thinking of how to get out of this situation
before it became ugly. "I suppose so. Now, since I have answered your question,
time for you to go sleep off that Asgardian mead."
"No, I want to stay here with you." Steve laid down on Sam, effectively pinning
her to couch. "I want to stay with my best friend." He buried his face in her
neck and inhaled deeply. "You smell nice too Sam."
"Thanks." Sam wheezed out and tapped Steve on his back. "But I can't breathed
Steve."
"So nice." He mumbled and Sam froze when she felt his lips on her neck. 
"I thought you said you were over your crush Steve." She was pushing at his
shoulders, trying to move him, it was like pushing against a brick wall.
"I am." Steve raised his head to look Sam in her eyes. "I just like hugging you
is all. You're soft." 
"And you are very heavy, so get you star spangled ass up and go to bed."
"Alright, alright. I'm goin'." Steve sat up, but in doing so he ended up
straddling her legs. He stared down at her and Sam stared up at him. "You look
so good Sam." 
His eyes roamed over her body and she felt a shiver of discomfort roll down her
spine. Steve had never looked at her that way before, as if she were prey and
he a predator, but that is how she felt and she wanted to be out from under
him.
She tried another strategy. "Ok, since it seems like you are not going to bed,
let me up so that I can go. I am tired." She began sitting up, hoping that
would clue in his alcohol addled brain to move but it only made him lean down
over her again.
"No."
"What?"
"No. I do not want to move yet."
"Well tough shit, because I want to get up so move." Sam growled the last part,
done playing nice. She had no idea what alcohol did to Steve since this was the
first time she had ever seen him affected by the substance.
"Nah, Sam," the smile on his face was like nothing she had ever seen before.
"Let's have our own lil' party." He slid his hand under her pyjama top, running
it over the soft skin of her toned stomach.
"What the-Steve!" Sam grabbed the offending hand, stopping it from going any
higher, when she felt Steve shove his other hand under the loose leg of her
pyjama shorts, squeezing her ass cheek. "Steve! Stop it!" She tried to grab his
other hand but he evaded her grasp.
Steve grabbed the collar of her pyjama shirt and pulled, tearing the neck and
exposing her collar bone that he immediately latched onto with his mouth.
"Steve!" Sam tried to pull away, tried to grab his hands to remove them from
her body. She tried to push him off her, but her human strength was no
match for that of a drunk super-soldier. 
He dragged his other hand from her grasp and using both hands now, he ripped
her top completely in two, exposing her breasts to the cool air in the
apartment and to his greedy mouth. 
"No!" Sam struggled, tears starting to drip down her face, twisting and
turning, trying to free her body of Steve, but it was no use. 
His hands were all over her body, her hips, arms, thighs, gripping tight, no
doubt leaving bruises.
"Steve! Get off me!" She was hitting him on his back trying anything to get him
off her.
His weight, pinned her to the couch and she felt as if she was suffocating,
until suddenly, she could breathe again.
"She said to get off of her!" 
Sam heard a murderous roar, a body crashing into something and glass breaking.
Pulling her torn shirt together, she sat up and saw Steve on the ground on the
other side of the living room, pieces of glass lying around him with a heavy
breathing Bucky standing in front of her protectively.
"What the hell has gotten into you Rogers?! You of all people should
know better than to put his hands on a woman without her consent!"
She did not have to see Bucky's face to know that he was beyond pissed. And
Steve had yet to utter a word on his defence; he could only groan in pain.
"Bucky." Sam's voice was small and he turned to face her immediately, his eyes
and face softening instantly when he saw how scared she looked, his eyes raking
over her trembling form. 
"Here." He shrugged out of his sweater and gave it to Sam who put it on,
zipping up the zipper to preserve her dignity. He crouched down to her eye
level, "you ok? He didn't hurt you?"
Sam shook her head. "Other than some impressive bruises I will be sporting in a
few hours and shock from the situation, he did not get any further." Her
attention was suddenly drawn to something behind Bucky and he turned, standing
up to see Steve clumsily getting to his feet.
"Bucky? Sam?" He slurred and took a wobbly step back, glass crunching beneath
his shoes making him looked down at where the sound came from. "Wha's goin' on?
Wha’ ‘appened?"
Bucky sighed angrily, "what is going to happen, is you taking your ass to bed
and sleeping off that fucking poison that seemed to have cloud what little
common sense you have left."
His words seemed to have struck a chord in Steve as his face went white, "what
did I do?"
Bucky went to open his mouth but was stopped by Sam who put a hand on his arm,
rising to stand beside him. "We will talk about it tomorrow Steve, but for now
just go to bed."
Steve must have been sobering up, because he was staring at Sam, as if he was
trying to figure out the situation. His eyes roaming over her appearance, not
in hunger this time, but trying to piece together the puzzle pieces before him.
His eyes landed on a dark bruise forming on her throat that Bucky's hoodie did
not hide.
"What. Did. I. Do?" His voice sounded hollow.
Bucky's glared became even more severe, "she said that we will talk about it
tomorrow. Go to bed Steve."
After a few more minutes of Steve looking like a sad puppy staring at Sam and
Bucky glaring at him, Steve finally relented and with a soft, sad good night,
he went to his room.
Bucky turned to face Sam, looking her over, "are you going to be ok?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "The thought never crossed my mind that Steve would ever be
capable of something like that. Drunk or not." Sam felt herself begin to
tremble as the adrenaline wore off and what had almost happened began to set
in. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that would be enough to hold her
together, to stop the breakdown that was fast coming. "I could not do
anything!" The tears began. "I knew something was up and when he pounced, I
could do nothing but scream. He was so strong and I could not get him off me."
Her knees gave out, but Bucky managed to catch her before she fell to the
floor. Holding her tight to his body as she cried, he tried his best to comfort
her; running his fingers through her hair, while his metal hand rubbed circles
on her back.
"Shhh. It's ok now. I got you." He rocked her gently as she cried.
Sam sat on the floor, in the comfort Bucky provided with his arms as her crying
died down and the tears started to dry up. "Thank you for rescuing me."
"Anytime."
"I want to go to bed. I am so goddamn tired."
Bucky helped her up and walked her the short distance to her room. "Do you want
me to stay with you? Watch your six while you sleep?"
"Thank you, but I will be fine. Go on back to bed."
"If you are sure."
"I am."
"Alright, good night Sam."
"Good night Bucky."
Bucky was not surprised to fine Sam gone the next morning, before the sun had
even risen. The only sign that she had been there was his hoodie that she had
left neatly folded on her bed, along with a note saying that Steve was not to
contact her until she was ready. He just hoped that his best friend had not
done irreparable damage to Sam and to their little group.
 
 
 
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