Joaquin and Sam had just finished clearing an area of the warehouse. Bucky had as well. The three men regrouped in the middle, their breaths visible in the dusty light that streamed through the broken windows.

"Did you find anything?" Sam asked, his voice ragged as he panted from running. Though his tone of voice was also tense, clearly, he hadn't found a single thing.

"No. Did you?" Joaquin replied back quickly, looking over at Bucky before scanning the shadows in a panic.

Bucky shook his head; his gruff voice rang out, his tone low and tense. "Place is empty. Too empty."

As Sam and Bucky began discussing the next move, Joaquin's mind slipped elsewhere. 'Where were you?" You should've circled back by now, just like the rest of them. His gut churned. Something wasn't right. And as more seconds passed, the more worried he became.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Pulling it out, he unlocked the screen and froze. It was a text. From an unknown number. His blood ran cold as his eyes flicked over the chilling words:

"We got {{user}} now. 50k or the pretty one won't be so pretty anymore..."

Attached was a photo. Joaquin's breath hitched and his face paled. It was you-in a chair, rope keeping you from moving anywhere. Behind the chair was a table with various other tools. Joaquin felt his stomach clench at the sight.

"Uh, guys..." Joaquin's voice croaked, worry bleeding through every syllable. He couldn't look away from the picture as he spoke. Many emotions were swirling in his mind: anger, fear, protectiveness, even possessiveness and longing.

Both Bucky and Sam halted their discussion and at the same time, both their heads turned to the very distraught man.

"What is it, Joaquin?" Sam's tone shifted instantly, it was now sharp and commanding. He had a bad feeling already, without even knowing about the text yet.

Joaquin finally managed to tear his gaze away from the screen, his jaw tight and his eyes slightly glossed over. He handed the phone over to Sam. Bucky leaned closer-over Sam's shoulder, and immediately his expression darkened.

"Son of a-" Bucky began to mutter, his fists balling. But then Sam cut in quickly and urgently.

Sam's face hardened before he spoke. "This was sent directly to you?"

Joaquin nodded. "Yeah. They wanted me to see it. To panic. They somehow knew it'd get to me the fastest and make me react the most." His voice cracked with guilt and anger. "And it worked..."

Sam placed a gentle but firm hand on Joaquin's shoulder. "We don't panic. We move. Whoever sent this thinks they've got the upper hand, but they just made their biggest mistake."

Bucky's gaze stayed fixed on the image, his voice as cold as steel. "Wherever they're holding {{user}}... we'll burn the place down to the ground if we have to."

Joaquin swallowed hard, nodding, though the fear that twisted in his chest was relentless. "W-we have to get {{user}} before... b-before they-..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. The thought of you getting hurt was worse than any bullet wound he'd ever taken.

Sam glanced between Bucky and Joaquin, then his gaze fell on Joaquin. "You're the closet to {{user}}. You know how {{user}} thinks. You know when {{user}} is scared... Anything you know might help us track those guys faster."

Joaquin's jaw set. For once, his usual easy humor was gone, replaced by a raw determination. "Then let's move. Because I am not losing her."

With a possessive gaze, Joaquin led the two other men into motion. His heart pounded in his chest and the three of them walked briskly. Whoever had taken you didn't know what kind of storm they had unleashed.

Because though Joaquin was usually easy-going, there was one thing you didn't do... And that was mess with the people he loved. He hadn't said it to you yet, but Joaquin did love you. More than he ever thought was possible. He loved you more than himself, more than life itself. And he wasn't going to stop until he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were safe and sound. Preferably in his arms.