Summary: The signing of the Accords does not go as planned
Authors Note: Sorry for the delay, I’ve been swamped with grad school applications and then ended up in the hospital for a few days, Overall I’ve just been having a rough go the last few weeks. Hope you all enjoy. Tagging is open, they’ve just been moved to the bottom, just ask if you want to be tagged :D
“Do I detect some flirting… is the great Black Widow smitten with a Prince?” You twitter sardonically as Natasha guides you away from the Prince of Wakanda, now engaged in a private conversation with his father, the King.
“Will you stop it?” She rolls her eyes as she shoves you forward towards your seat, rolling her eyes as you laugh at her annoyance, “I honestly don’t know what’s with you lately.” You cock an eyebrow at her, confused at her observation, “What do you mean?” you question, wishing for her to elaborate.
“You’re kidding right?” her eyebrows raise at you, believing the answer was obvious, “Talking about flirting? Caring about my relationship status? This isn’t you. The sarcasm and teasing yes, but the incessant smiling and interest in my personal life… I mean come on.” She looks you up and down feigning as if she doesn’t recognize you.
You laugh at her absurdity, wondering how your friend had drawn such conclusions about you, “Oh shove off Nat. I’ve asked you about your personal life before, I’ve cared. You’re overacting… you’re just embarrassed that I caught you flirting.”
“You’re never around anymore, and when you are you’re cryptic and distant. Not to mention how absent minded you have become, always drifting off into your own head, you’re unfocused.”
“I’m not…” you start but Natasha interrupts you, continuing in her explanation, “And don’t even get me started with you and Steve. I’ve known both of you for a while, watched you be on and off for the past few months, and I have never once heard you fight like you did today.”
Her words hit a nerve, wiping the smile from your face as you consider her observations. Had you really changed that much? Had Bucky’s presence in your life had that wide of a scope of impact? You admit that your behavior towards Steve had changed, but that was more because you could no longer give him what he wanted.
Your stomach tenses, realizing fully the effect that Bucky has had on you. Your thoughts were constantly with him, drifting to him at every available moment. She was right… you weren’t present anymore, the bonds that had previously tied you to your work, to the avengers, had been severed. The focus of your life had shifted without you even being aware.
Oh my god. I’m in love with him. I love Bucky. You stood there with a blank stare glossing across your face. You had never fallen in love with anyone. Sure you had affectionate feelings before, you would go so far as to say you were invested in some, but never like this. Never before had there been this all-consuming feeling, like a magnet pulling you to his presence.
“Y/N? Hello! See this is what I’m talking about, you always drift off nowadays. Y/N? Are you even listening to me?” Natasha grips your arm roughly, pulling your attention to her as she shakes you from your realization, your face quickly correcting as you try to hide your thoughts.
“You’re being overdramatic,” you roll your eyes as you pull your arm from her grasp, noticing as King T’Chaka moves towards the podium, his son taking position beside him, a few feet away. “The conference is about to start, we should sit.” You speak quickly, hoping to distract her as you move towards the row of chairs.
The two of you settle into your chairs as King T’Chaka begins his speech. Natasha shifting ever so slightly in her chair as Prince T’Challa takes his place stoically by the window, observing the conference as his father speaks of peace, defensively monitoring the situation at large. You notice the tension in his stance, his nervousness as he peers around at the crowd of diplomats.
You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand as something outside draws T’Challa’s attention, causing his head to whip around towards the street. In a moment he is moving across towards his father. You react instinctually, predicting an attack as you hear him yell, “Everybody get down.” In a moment you are vaulting over the table in front of you, hopping over obstacles on your path to protect the King, racing T’Challa to his father.
Then, in an instant, you feel your body blown backwards, heat pressing against you as glass and debris are thrown alongside your airborne body. With a hard smack you feel your back connect with a cement pillar, causing you to crumple to the ground as more debris falls on top of you.
You lay there, gasping for air, trying desperately to regain some orientation as you fight to steady the breath that got knocked from you. Your ears ring as they try to process the sound around you. You feel as if you are under water, the terrified screams sounding muffled and distant as the frightened people scamper around the demolished room.
Your vision blurs as your head swims constantly, you shake your head trying to clear your senses, but lose the fight as your eyes fall closed, your body relaxing into the ruble.
“Y/N! Y/N!” You feel a firm hand on your shoulder as someone touches your cheek, pushing the hair out of your face. Your eyes open as the sound of screams return to your ears. “Thank god!” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief as she helps you sit up, you wince slightly as you clutch at your shoulder, a large piece of glass imbedded in your skin.
Natasha’s hand moves quickly to the wound assessing the damage “I think it’s just superficial, doesn’t feel that deep.” You hiss as you move yourself to a kneeling position, feeling your body ache beneath you as bruises begin to form. “You’ll need stitches none the less,” Natasha scolds, trying to keep you from rising to your feet, “Just stay still will you! Can I get a medic?” She shouts searching the room for help.
“Nat, I’m fine, there are plenty more people that need help. Just help me get up.” She bites her lip as she debates whether or not you should move but as she takes in the carnage of the surrounding scene she realizes that you were not the biggest priority. “Fine…” She caves, “Let’s get you out of here.”
With Natasha’s help, you are able to make short work of it, stopping only once to breathe through a dizzy spell, your legs finding their strength with every step as she guides you out of the building and towards an ambulance.
“What were you thinking running forward like that, you could have been killed!” She scolds as you wait for medical attention. Though Nat was still pretty young she was a fair bit older than you, often causing her to go into worried mom mode whenever you were particularly reckless. Between her and Steve it was a marvel that you were even allowed to hold knives, let alone fight with them.
“I saw T’Challa notice something outside, I thought it was a sniper. I thought I could get to the King in time…. The King… Natasha?” She shakes her head sadly, confirming your fear. “And T’Challa?” You ask earnestly, worried for the fate of the young Prince. “He’s alright, a little beat up and heartbroken but… He’ll make it.”
The medic arrives, interrupting your conversation with Natasha, you nod and allow them to tear your shirt exposing the bloody skin and shard of glass entrenched in your shoulder. “I’m going to check on T’Challa, get some information, maybe find you another shirt. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit alright, just stay put.” Natasha squeezes your hand affectionately as you nod, agreeing to her terms.
It takes about 20 minutes for the medic to remove the shard and insert a few stitches, but pretty quickly you are patched up and drinking water, watching as Natasha sits across the way, next to a distant looking T’Challa.
His grief was evident in the Prince’s stance as he looks at his ring, allowing Natasha’s words to wash over him before decisively standing and walking purposefully away from her.
In a moment she is walking back towards you, a long sleeve black shirt in hand. She throws it to you, looking over the bruises forming along your torso as you slip your arms through it, cautiously moving your newly repaired left shoulder. “Any info?” You ask curiously, pulling the shirt over your head and settling it down on your torso.
“Yes, they’ve released a video of the suspect. It’s The Winter Soldier.” You hear Natasha’s words as if from a distance, your stomach knotting at the sound of the alias. Bucky? But… it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. “No… it has to be someone else.” You speak quickly not fully comprehending your own words.
Natasha raises an eyebrow at you, confused by your assertion, not expecting this reaction, “What? It’s Barnes. They’re sure of it, they have him on video by the van, about 30 hours ago. The team is just waiting for a reliable tip on his location.”
30 hours… I was with him then… It wasn’t him… He knew I was here… He wouldn’t. He would never hurt me. “Natasha, you have to listen to me, it wasn’t him. They’ve identified the wrong man. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but it’s a distraction. Bucky didn’t do this.”
“Y/N…” She speaks slowly, her brow furrowing in confusion as she processes your words. “What are you talking about? Do you… do you know something?” She leans forward, staring at you intensely as your brain whirs trying to form a response or find an escape. Natasha’s phone begins to ring, distracting her for a moment as she answers quickly.
“Yeah?” She responds roughly, her eyes remaining locked on you. “Are you alright?” Steve asks on the other end of the call, “Ah, yeah, thanks. I got lucky.” She responds slowly, “Y/N? Is she… Is she ok?” he questions, “She’s fine Steve, a little bit bruised, but she’ll live.” She turns her back to you, looking questioningly through the street as a siren fills the air.
“I know how much Barnes means to you, I really do. Stay at home, you’ll only make this worse for all of us. Please.” You hear Natasha caution Steve, thinking quickly. Of course Steve would try to protect Bucky, but he was running out of time.Luckily you knew something no one else did; where he lived, you just had to get to him.
You move slowly, cautiously watching Natasha as she continues to glance through the street only feet from you. Silently you sneak around the ambulance and disappear into the crowd, breaking into a run as you establish some distance, heading back to the jet for supplies and a ride. You feel your feet quicken beneath you as your adrenaline clears your head. You have to move quickly, Bucky was running out of time.
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