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the docks reeked of salt and rust, the brine curling in off the water and tangling with the sharp scent of oil slicks and cigarette smoke. bucky was midway through unloading a shipment when he saw him. limping slightly, a welt blooming ugly and purple along his cheekbone, just shy of his eye. a split lip, dried blood crusted at the corner. jacket dusted with grit and knuckles raw. bucky swore under his breath, setting the crate he'd been carrying down and ignoring the curious looks his coworkers shot him as he met him on the quay.

[ 05 ] sender comes to receiver with an injury they got while doing something the receiver warned them not to attempt alone.

❝ for chrissake, steve! ❞ bucky all but growled once he was close enough he wouldn't have to yell, ❝ i told you to wait for me. ❞ his fingers twitched—tempted to grab him, shake him, maybe slug him once for good measure. they'd heard about the harrisons through the usual gossip on their block. moved in a few weeks ago, two floors below his and steves. mrs. harrison was as sweet a girl as anyone could ask for and pretty as a doll, but mr. harrison was a stone cold drunk with a tendency to talk with his fists.

❝ how bad? ❞ bucky asked, lips pressing into a grim line because he knew. knew that if steve confronted the man half-cocked and alone then something had to have gone very, very wrong. // @sh1elded , injuries + aid prompts .

the detective flipped through a notepad, a stalling tactic no doubt meant to make him nervous enough to slip up. james murphy, you said? they asked while staring down at the drivers license he'd provided. bucky neither confirmed or denied, only waited. he could've stood there all night while they poked and prodded, but he didn't have to.

[ ALIBI ]: the sender provides a false alibi to protect the receiver from legal issues.

steve fell into position at his side and the detective nearest him shifted instinctively. he was with me last night, steve lied. the detective studied steve for a beat before flicking a glance back to bucky to reassess. he'd been an unknown before, an enigmatic question mark but now, standing next to captain america, that question mark became something else entirely—something that didn't fit neatly into whatever theory they had been building about the gunfire fight down at the docks.

❝ we played cards, had a few drinks. ❞ bucky added smoothly. // @sh1elded , right place prompts .

amelia holmes talked fast, and thought faster. words spilled out like she was five moves ahead and barely waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. bucky had seen minds like hers before—brilliant, untethered, always running at a pace most people couldn't follow. he let her talk. let her lay out her theory, the threads of logic she w as weaving together, the patterns only she seemed to see. he didn't interrupt. just watched. listened. measured every word against the instincts that kept him alive longer than they had any right to.

a pause as she took a breath and only then did she seem to notice that he hadn't responded. not yet anyway.

❛ don't worry, i'm not crazy. least, i don't think so. ❜

bucky held her gaze for a beat. the ghost of something unreadable in his expression as he waited. maybe she wasn't crazy, or maybe she was just the kind of crazy that made sense to him. but he'd learned early on that sanity was subjective.

❝ i don't care if you're crazy, ❞ bucky said finally, ❝ i care if you're right. ❞ because if she was, and he thought she was, then a lot of people were in danger and the only people who had any clue, was them. // @tcbefearless / amelia , silent hill prompts .

the safehouse was the kind of place no one asked questions about. tucked between abandoned buildings on the outskirts of the city, it was forgotten. lost. much like them. the silence that stretched between them was tangible, the kind that felt as if it were leaving behind a sticky residue. his gaze—sharp, weary—never left her. pale blue scrutinizing the same truth he'd seen in the mirror splay out across her face.

❝ i’m afraid i had no choice in the matter. ❞

it was a familiar story and a familiar wound still bleeding beneath the surface. bucky leaned back slightly, flexing his fingers carefully, his expression neutral. then, after a long moment—maybe too long—he gave a slow nod.

❝ yeah, ❞ he murmured. ❝ i know. ❞ that was it. no absolution, no condemnation. just the weight of knowing what it was like to someone else's weapon. // @staticveil , altered carbon prompt .

the body slumped against the wall, a smear of red streaking down cracked concrete while the sound of the gunshot rang in his ears. he watched her, silent, the dim light catching the steel of his arm as he stepped forward. her grip on the gun was tight—too tight. knuckles white, hands shaking, but not from fear. from something colder. something deeper.

❝ i thought it would give me a moment of peace. ❞

bucky clenched his jaw together tightly and reached out, slow, deliberate. his fingers brushed the side of the weapon, testing for resistance, and then he pried the gun from her hands. ❝ it's done. ❞ he said, because what else was there? he'd been where she was, he'd done what she'd done ten times over and even now, knowing what he knew, he'd do it again. // @staticveil , altered carbon prompts .

the city skyline loomed like a jagged promise against the night. towers rising in stark defiance to the darkness, splayed in neon and halogen lights. the unlikely pair had a clear line of sight overlooking the flashing red and blue lights and crowd of uniformed officers that poured in and out of the warehouse below. what was left of the trafficking ring—those that could still walk at least—were escorted into armored vans in cuffs.

❝  sometimes, complexity can be exhausting. ❞

she wasn't wrong. he'd been chasing down a missing persons lead, a reasonably mundane operation that had quickly turned into something else when their paths had crossed. but the exhaustion that filled her voice ran deeper than a random night of vigilante justice.

❝  so simplify it. ❞ bucky said, as if life was that easy. ❝ forget the politics, the debts. just focus on the job . . . and maybe a drink after. ❞ he added as an afterthought. // @waruins , altered carbon prompt .

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