Okay, so fair warning, this is going to be a long chapter with a long opening author's note, I apologize but this is an important chapter to me.  I'll start with the less important notes and build, so first, this is a Marvel x Brooklyn Nine-Nine one shot, the reader is a detective at the Nine-Nine, the pronouns are they/them (as usual), it's readerxBucky (romantically).  Now for the less fun stuff, this one shot deals with themes of sexual abuse, assault, and rape, if you are not comfortable with these topics, I highly encourage you to skip this, I won't judge.  I am not a personal survivor of this horrendous and frankly disgusting crime, but I personally know people that have.  If you find yourself a victim of one of these crimes, tell people, don't be silent, spread your knowledge and your story, and if you can't do that, don't feel bad, but do now there are people who will help you, if you don't feel comfortable talking to anyone else about it, my PM's are always open to vent or talk.  Now, after that monster of an a/n, let's get to the story, shall we?

A week ago you had gotten a new case from your captain and lieutenant, Captain Peralta and Lieutenant Santiago, the first lieutenant and captain to be married in the ninety-ninth precinct, as well as your mentors. Santiago was open about her sexual assault in the workplace when she was at the six-three, but was unaware about your past, just how you liked it. You hadn't told anyone about it other than your mom and little sister, none of the avengers, your colleagues, no one knew, and you liked it that way.

That brings you to where you were now, slouching over your desk at the precinct, going over every little detail of the case that you had, the victim's testimony, the medical exam results, everything you had. You were a good detective, you made it into the academy at 19, the youngest you could be to apply, graduated the academy after six months with almost perfect grades, made detective by 22, and have been on the road to sergeant ever since. You loved your precinct, the Captain being amazing at his job, but still being fun and having the ability to have fun, the Lieutenant being the same, with a fun but a little bit creepy obsession with binders. They loved Bucky, and allowed you more lenient hours to be able to work and corporate closely with the Avengers, training the younger recruits on how to fight, the best ways to find the person guilty for the crimes, how to lie but make it seem true, all of the stuff you need to be a detective Sergeant, but are useful to an Avenger. You had bonded closely with everyone you were around, but still, you couldn't bring yourself to tell them why this case was so important to you.

You had been working yourself to the bone to solve the case, barely sleeping, barely eating, never talking unless it's about the case and if he was honest, Bucky was really worried about you. He knew the risks of not sleeping, he'd experienced them first hand after being the Winter Soldier and enduring all of that trauma. You were smart, you were capable so you knew when there wasn't enough evidence to go off of, and this was it, yet for whatever reason, you couldn't accept that this time.

Bucky's POV

(Y/N) hasn't come home yet and I'm worried. They haven't been coming home until the wee hours of the morning and I don't know what to do, Jake and Amy said that (Y/N) got a new case and had been working really hard on it, but this isn't like them, they never sacrifice their time with me and the other Avengers for a case because for so long, they never got to see us and even when they did it was for a very brief moment. I decided the only way to make sure they were doing okay was to go to the Nine-Nine and ask them what's going on, and I can't give up until they tell me.

I put on a leather jacket, my gloves, and packed a bag for when I got there in case they needed anything complete with a water bottle, a few different protein bars because I didn't know what they'd be in the mood for, a blanket, one of my hoodies that I wore yesterday because I knew they'd be more likely to wear it if it smelled like me, no matter how cold they were, a toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a change of clothes *insert fave comfy outfit here* because I knew they would be wearing the precinct uniform they never take off anymore, and hop into the car, driving to the precinct.

*at the precinct, still Buchy's pov*

I hopped out of the car after parking in the deserted lot, outside the building, grabbing the bag and locking the car as I walked into the lively fist floor, manned by the night cop squad. The secretary at the desk knew me so he just waved me to the elevator, flashing a smile. I mirrored the small smile as I entered the elevator and went up to the floor that was home to the detective squad. When the door opened I was met by a sight I wasn't expecting at all. All of the lights on the floor were turned on, the desks had been pushed to the edges of the room, and (Y/N) was in the middle of the bullpen with four bulletin boards covered in evidence, information, maps, photos, notes, and more. Their hair was messy and practically standing up on its ends, their harness that carried their sidearm was discarded to the side on a desk next to their jacket and shoes, and (Y/N) was standing in the middle of all this, shuffling between the boards, scribbling little notes and sticking them to the boards all while whispering words I couldn't make out under their breath. The sight made my stomach drop and my heart pang with a wave of sadness and worry. They looked like they hadn't taken a break in days, maybe even weeks.

"(Y/N), Babe?" I say quietly, trying not to scare the animalistic looking sergeant.

"Buck? Baby, you shouldn't be here, you can't see this, this is evidence for an active police investigation, you're a civilian, you can't see this, you can't know this." They frantically respond, trying to cover the bulletin boards with random things and their body.

"Babe, you need to take a break, do you know what time it is?" I ask them, they go to check and before they can I interrupt, "No, don't check, what time do you think it is right now, off the top of your head?"

"Umm, like, 11:30 pm?" They answer questioningly, I check my watch to be sure of what time it was.

"Not, quite, try more like 3:30 am." I answer, their jaw drops and their eyes widen.

"OhmygodBuck!!" They exclaim, "I swear, i didn't mean to be up this late, I just- this case- I-" They try to explain, I just put down the bag of stuff and wrap my arms around their smaller frame, it's average compared to most people, but whatever HYDRA gave me that made me the winter soldier made me larger than I used to be.

"shhhhhhhhhhhhhh. It's okay my love, I'm just worried about you, you don't sleep, you don't eat, you spend all of your time at the precinct or somewhere related to your case, I feel like I haven't seen you since the Stark Expo 1942. I brought you clothes, one of my hoodies, some snacks, and we are going to the break room and you are telling me why you're doing this so I can help you." I tell them, keeping them in my arms even as they look up at me excitedly at the mention of the fact that I have a hoodie of mine for them.

"Fine. But I'm not changing anything except putting on your hoodie because I'm too tired and lazy to." They reluctantly relent, I nod just relieved they agreed to take a break.

"Works for me." I shrug, handing the bag to them so they can get what they need from it.

A few minutes later they were in one of my hoodies that are a little big on me but has eaten (Y/N) even with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows they look like a kid in relation to the hoodie. They were slowly nibbling at the protein bar as if they were trying it for the first time even though it was one of their favorite types for after work.

"Okay, you're in a hoodie, which by the way you look adorable and tiny in and it's adorable and precious, you're eating, like a bunny in slow motion, now we go to the break room and you tell me what the hell is going on with you." I tell them, they groan and don't move so I just scoop them up and carry them bridal style to the break room as they protest and whine, while also clutching the protein bar because it's the only real food they've probably had or consumed in days.

Once we were in the break room I set them down on a chair by the table in the center knowing the blue couch was Hitchcock or Scully's (i can't tell the difference) nap couch and that it was most likely infested by something. I sat down next to them and leaned my head on my hand with my elbow on the table so I was facing them.

"You ready to tell me why this case is eating at your life so much, you and I both know sometimes there just isn't enough evidence or it just can't be solved, and we said that our work would never get in between us but I haven't seen you in forever, it's just a case." I say, they look up at me with tired eyes that hang slightly closed but the eyeball I can see is slightly glossy and has darkened with a sad mist that has covered their (Y/E/C) irises that usually sparkle with joy or have a really sexy dark and almost red tint in them when they're really angry.

"I- I- It–" They begin before climbing into my lap and wiggling themselves into my lap as if trying to get deeper into my warmth, I bring my hands up to hold them and make sure I carefully run my hand up and down their back slowly and comfortingly.

"It's okay, take your time if you need to." I assure, not knowing why they need the time but also knowing I would be heartbroken if I made them uncomfortable telling me anything.

"It– It's not just a case this time." They mumble, barely audible but I still managed to hear it. "I– I– When I was fourteen I had a male teacher who I thought was the absolute best, he challenged me, supported me, let me skip lessons if I had a PTSD attack, or just needed to skip, he helped me so much to recover after I lost my parents and everything, he lead the charge in arresting my abusive foster family that tried to adopt me. He was the reason I got into Harvard, the reason I wanted to be a detective because he would give me newspaper clippings of cool people and crimes, he was like a father to me. When I turned seventeen and got my early acceptance letter from Harvard he asked me to stay after class one day." They pause, their voice had become shaky and unsteady a few sentences ago but this was where they had to recollect their voice. "One day he asked me to stay after class... and– and– he told me that my life was thanks to me, that i would be dumb and dead or close to it and– and he'd never– never a-asked anything of me, but that he wanted– n-needed, d-deserved someth-thing in return." They pause again and all of a sudden I notice there's a wet patch forming on my shoulder and their face is flushed and red from tears. "Th-then h-he brought in a really t-tall and s-strong man; h-he said th-the man was his friend and th-that h-he wanted to sh-share th-the fun w-with h-him." They said, full on sobbing and my heart almost stopped as the pieces fit together, I had suspicions earlier on but now, now I was positive. "Th-then th-th-they raped me." They continued to sob as I was ready to kill someone, anyone, preferably the men. "A-And– th"

"Hey, you don't have to say anything more, you're safe." I assure them, holding them even tighter, ignoring the growing wet spot on my shoulder as they sobbed into me because all I needed was them to be safe and feel safe.

"No–no I want to tell you, I have for the entire time I've known you I just didn't have the guts, the words, or the emotional strength to." They say, I know better than to argue so I just let them continue. "Ever since then I never wanted anyone to help me because I couldn't bear the thought of petting someone and then taking it like those monsters did my innocence, my happiness, my feelings of safety and confidence in my body and who I am. I am a survivor of one of the worst crimes known to man, for years after the incident I thought about it and I still feel like what happened to me is worse than murder. With murder, although it is horrible and despicable, the victim is dead ace they don't have to live with the memories of what happened to them, their family greaves for a while, tears are shed, a trial is done, in five years the world is back to normal and everyone can keep living- rape, the victim or the survivor loses everything that really counts. The survivor loses their sense of self value, loses their innocence, for many, they are stolen of the one thing that they have and can dictate who they give it to and the thing that they give to the person they love the most, the victim loses their ability to feel safe around anyone, to trust anyone, no matter how long they know the person, they lose their feelings of security showing their body or their soul, even, to anyone. The worst part is that so many victims never get to make the person that did that pay for what they did, so many rapists go free because of the power imbalance in this horrible country and it sickens me. People blame the wrong people, the media feeds the public lies, survivors are victim shamed for coming out and speaking the truth, and so much more, and I can't even help this one girl get her closure. I can't help this one, young, innocent, girl have some form of closure, I know it might not do anything in the long run, but I do know that I can make a small, young, innocent girl who was stolen of a right all people should have feel safe even for one tiny moment." My heart breaks, I can't believe I didn't ask or figure it out earlier.

"Hey, I want you to breathe, to calm down, then we can talk more, get some sleep, take a break, and then we can get back to this. I'll talk to Tony and Fury, see about maybe getting some back up from SHIELD on this, see if we can't figure something new out." I watch as their face lights up and they perk up as if ready to get back to work this moment. "But, like I said. Sleep, shower, break and rest, and then we'll get back to it, kay?" I add, seeing how tired they are by the bags under their eyes, almost dark enough that they look like bruises, and the fact that when I try to look them in the eyes their eyelids are drooping down, resembling a young child refusing to sleep. They silently and we're off to the compound to go to sleep. Once we reach our bed and get into it, it takes thirty seconds for their eyes to close, their breathing to slow, and them to be off to sleep.