I’m starting to post my fics here, so if you have any requests or ideas, just send me an ask
*indicates smut | 18+ only please
Bucky Barnes
ONE-SHOTS
Sunset Promises
Summary: Bucky swore to stay, and as you two watch the sun setting, one last promise is made.
A two way deal*
Summary: Bucky is tired. He hasn’t gotten a single good night of sleep in decades, and he’s done with the nightmares. Hearing about a certain woman who makes deals that could get him what he needed sounded like a miracle. Only when Bucky does find her, it’s no miracle, and she’s no saint.
I say that I hate you with a smile on my face*
Summary: You and Bucky were not friends, far from it, so when reckless actions on the field have you facing his anger, you can’t understand the reason behind his outburst. You’re not just going to let him talk to you like that, though, and facing Bucky Barnes is your favorite hobby.
my favorite thing about bucky barnes is that sebastian stan chose to walk in a way that shows how heavy bucky’s arm is. like you can see that his metal arm is physically weighing his left side down because of how heavy it is
Actually crazy that Annabeth and Percy have had such different views of their parents for their entire lives but when it mattered most, Athena abandoned Annabeth and Poseidon saved Percy.
While Peeta’s declaration of love for Katniss on national television was certainly in order to gain attention for both himself and Katniss, the deeper meaning to it is way more important.
Peeta, no matter how well he could play the audience, deep down resented the idea of the games. For him, the biggest slap in the face in the Capitol that he could give was to highlight the brutality of it on national television. This was very heavy-handed in his interview in CF, but it is equally a driving force in THG.
In CF, he put the focus on a family being broken up and destroyed, because he claimed he and Katniss were married with a baby she was carrying. But Peeta putting the spotlight on loss is a common element in his first interview as well.
Since he was distant with his family and had already been callously alluded to as good as dead by his mother, he was not going to point out how his family will be losing their youngest son. If you look at Katniss’ first interview, her role as the elder sister who needed to get back to her little sister was the emotional hook. Peeta could not have used his family in order to drive a similar sense of tragedy. Even if he could by lying, I don’t believe he could have brought himself to do that.
Then how does a boy who doesn’t think his family needs him, a boy who is certain he is going to die, make a statement to the Capitol? How does he contribute to the sense of tragedy? By sharing his longing for the one connection he wishes he had. While he didn’t force Katniss to respond to his declaration, what he did do through his interview and subsequent actions (teaming up with the careers to mislead them, staying up all night to watch over her when they have her trapped in the tree, getting her to run after the tracker jacker attack), was making it clear that when he dies, Katniss will lose out on someone that really really loves her. That is the tragedy, that even if she lives, she lost out. He, with all his love and all his best intentions would have made her happy, could have been happy with her, if not for the Capitol.
Knowing Peeta’s character, I am going to say that he even felt like he could make that declaration because he didn’t believe there were any way he could have survived the games. Both of them being alive at the end was obviously an unimaginable scenario so there was no circumstance in his mind where he believed Katniss would be forced to reciprocate.
People have this uncharitable assumption that Peeta did this to get Katniss to be with him, but the truth is precisely the opposite. The two of them being together only became a possibility after the rule change and Katniss coming to find him, and even then, Peeta was pointing out that while they might play the audience, they themselves know it’s an act. The reason he got confused and believed it was genuine later on was because Katniss risked her own life to save his and because on some level it was genuine and he could feel it.
Authors Note: Please don't hate me. I was reading a Midsummer nights dream when I wrote this.
Warning: Fighting, ptsd
Word Count: 3151
Part One : Avoidance
Part Two: Chaos
My main Masterlist
Enjoy!
((Please don't hate me. I was reading a Midsummer nights dream when I wrote this. ))
“You mean to tell me that you’ve combed through every inch of that footage? That you have tried tracking her suit and you’ve-”
“YES BARNES! YES!” The surveillance employee snaps, snatching the glasses off his face and rubbing the point between his eyebrows. Never, not once, had Eric Micheals raised his voice at a higher man. Let alone the Winter Fucking Soldier.
But he didn’t know how else to say it. They combed through every piece of evidence, every second of footage and all the villages nearby. They. Found. Nothing.
“How does someone just disappear? Are there any blindspots in the-”
“Even if there were blindspots in the footage we would have seen her somewhere.” Eric snaps, and Bucky feels his fists clench, an unnatural anger pounding in his chest. Rationally he knew that the kid was just doing his job, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe without you. “If she left that building then we would have seen her.”
“We combed through the building to find her-”
“Enough.” Steve sighs, stepping between Bucky and his target. “We know Y/n got out. But she apparently didn’t take a natural exit.”
“Then how did she-” Nat begins but Steve cuts her a quick glance to silence her, turning back to Bucky. “We’ll figure it out, Buck. She’s out there-”
“I know she’s out there.” Bucky snaps, rolling his eyes as his flesh hand travels to the ache in his chest. “I can feel her, she’s right here.”
“You can feel her?” Tony scoffs, shooting everyone else a ‘can you believe this?’ look as Sam steps forward.
“Then we keep looking, keep brainstorming ways to find her.” Finally Bucky lets out a breath, walking to his pal with a calm expression. At least someone here was in his corner.
-
There was a thick feeling in your chest, one that you could not quite explain, but you knew it was there. Like a cord was wrapped to your ribcage and pulling, and no matter which way you turned or walked you just couldn’t seem to shake it.
The woman you were staying with often watched you closely, watching as you shuffled around her home in an attempt to ease the pressure, if she thought it weird she didn’t say anything on it. But then again it was already weird enough that she had someone in her house making plants grow at the speed of light and not have a clue as to who she was.
But that didn’t stop her from taking care of you. She fed you a hot meal morning and night, gave you a warm bed to sleep in and often carted you around town to help with her work.
She sold flowers, and ever since you had gotten involved she had never ending line out the door to buy your once in a lifetime flowers.
You felt powerful and endless, and though you had no clue who you were you knew you had never felt this kind of power before. And even with all that you still felt…. Empty. Like you were missing something very important.
Never ending, the pressure in your ribcage only tightening more.
Like today, walking behind the strange woman with a hand on your side, following her around the market as people all stopped to turn to you with shocked expressions. You understood their expressions, and had been shocked yourself when you saw how long your hair had been and the vines growing around your arms that you just couldn’t seem to shake.
You looked like a goddess.
You just wish you remembered who you were.
-
It was not long before the people around you figured out that just a touch from you was a healing spell, and soon enough everyone was desperate to touch you. People calling for you as you pass, screaming out a name you didn’t know as the stranger who saved you snatches your wrist, jolting back when the gray of her hair darkens back to the original color and some of the wrinkles along her face disappear.
You can only stare, blinking slowly as she snatches her hand away quickly. And though you had no memories you knew what you had just done was wrong. A wave of panic fills you and you find yourself yearning for something. The smell of black coffee and spearmint filling your senses as she mumbles an apology.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” She mumbles, the russian accent heavier from the adrenaline. “Come. Come. We go before they find us.”
“I want to heal.” You croak out, showing your hands before gesturing to the groups you had left behind you. “I can help-”
“Okay. Okay.” She mumbles, slowly leading you back to them, this time careful not to touch you.
You try not to be stung by that, and that heavy feeling in your chest dampens more. You were missing something.
-
He had to find you, he knew something was wrong.
If anyone were to hear him talk about it they would think he was crazy, but he felt it. The lack of energy and the heavy feeling in his chest. It was like he could feel your pain even while he was away.
“Buck.” Someone calls and he has to turn to find Sam walking to him, a small smile on his face. That was another reason Bucky knew something was wrong, he had NEVER seen Sam so sprightly.
It was like you had completely healed every single thing. Something he had never seen you do before, sure you helped in the med bay sometimes but even that was simple stuff that took most of your energy. He remembers all the times he had come in himself needing stitches.
-
“You know I heal fast, right doll?” He laughs, watching as you blush and not make eye contact while you continue stitching him up.
“This will help heal you faster, and I would very much appreciate it if you would stop getting shot so much.” You try to smile, eyes widening as he gasps out to scare you, realizing what he had done a second later. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m sorry,” He laughs, reaching his flesh hand up to swipe at your cheek. “I had to, you know it. You’re so anxious and I’m not gonna die on ya dollface.”
“I’m not your dollface right now Barnes”
“You’re always my dollface, even when you’re mad at me.” He smiles from ear to ear. “What time is your shift over, we can head over to the diner later.”
“Oh, I’m just helping out right now.” You smile and he blinks.
“You’re helping out? Doing all this and not getting paid?”
“I’ll let you buy me dinner as payment.” You smile, giving him a wink and then walking off for your next client.
It still amazed him how you convinced Stark to take public patients to allow better access to medicine and tech that the Avengers could provide.
-
“Buck? You hear me?” Sam calls, snapping his fingers.
“What?” The soldier asks, blinking slowly as he tries to snap you out of his thoughts for a second.
“I asked if you wanted help watering Y/ns plants.” Sam repeats himself, moving to grab another water canister as Bucky thanks him and gets back to working. His thoughts go back to the clinic you had been running, something he checked on everyday to make sure it was still running-
“Y/n.” He gasps, snapping to Sam.
“What?”
“Y/n. I know how to find her. I know how to find my girl.” Bucky laughs, dropping the water canister and splitting from the room with Sam hot on his heels. He dashes to the surveillance room, shocking Clint and Natasha on their shift.
“What now Bucky?” Clint groans, turning on his hearing aid as Nat slaps his arm.
“I know how to find Y/n-”
“Barnes, we have been through this. We’ve check-”
“Check the news for towns near the compound we rushed. Check for any healing activity.”
“Healing activity?” An intern laughs. “Like ibuprofen sales?”
His metal arm is reaching out quickly to snatch the shirt of the intern, pulling him up. “You about to make fun of the one person in this building who made you a specialized medicine for your mothers chemo therapy?”
“N-No man-”
“Sir.”
“NO SIR!” The kid cries out and Bucky releases him, rolling his eyes as the kid dashes past. “The Y/n I know would find a way to help anyone near her. And if she can heal Sam down to the lungs then she has enough energy to perform some miracles.”
“You don’t even know if she ma-”
“My girl made it out. And my girl is definitely out there making a change so let’s go.”
-
There were a lot of sick people here, from asthma to cancer to allergies. And they all wanted your help, which you were more than happy to give.
Child to mother to stranger to another child. Over and over they all kept coming.
You did what you could, touching their forehead or hands, some of them asked for a kiss on their head.
You did as much as you could, and hadn’t even realized when you started bleeding from your nose until the strange woman ushers you away, still not touching you herself.
“Melina.” Someone calls, and a younger woman with blonde hair appears before you, eyes wild as she taked you in. “Is it true.”
“Yelena.” The brunette stranger warns, and just like that you had two names but there was only one stuck on your tongue.
“Bucky.” You blurt and both women snap their attention to you.
“She is a god.” Yelena blurts and Melina shakes her head.
“A curse.”
“I’m lost.” You murmur, but they don’t seem to hear you, too busy arguing over each other.
-
“She went through the earth.” Bucky smiles, looking at the basement where they had lost you. Now unflooded and easier to search it was clear how you had managed to get out. You had quite literally gone through the earth.
It was like you had sunk through like a soft mattress, in a moment of panic you drew from the earth.
“Barnes.” Nat calls, red hair appearing quickly. “We got a hit.”
“We did?”
“You won’t believe what town we found her in.”
-
There was a heavy commotion, the sound of heavy wind and the next thing you knew everyone was dashing to hide, which made your instincts snap out.
Turning to look you see some of the dust rising up before you blink and see Cornell there, a silent scream tears through you as you dash for shelter as well, bare feet scraping against the concrete.
You had lost Melina and Yelena that morning, and now you wish you hadn’t strayed as you make a mad dash through the area, hearing footsteps follow you.
A small thud is heard to your right, a soft curse of a man, and when you look back to see you find a taller male with metal bird winds dodging from rocks being thrown by children. He ducks from their rocks, calling for them to calm down before the kids all yell out and run, when he removes his arm you spot a look of shock over his face.
Before you can even realize what you had done you see vines grow quickly, snatching him by the ankles and throwing him up before he could retaliate.
He searches around for the source, spotting you with a shocked look. “Y/n, IT’S SAM!”
But you were already dashing, the bottom of your foot scraping before it heals in a flash as you dash up a fallen post before a blur of red hair fills your vision and you are lashing out once more to protect yourself.
Cornell had come back for you, you knew it. This was the end of it all.
The female is blocked by a tree and another figure with a bow and arrow is pulled into the dirt as you dash up the post and climb into an abandoned building, moving to find a space to hide.
-
“Jesus, she’s gone wild.” Clint gasps, trying to take his foot out of the quicksand you had formed under him while Nat moves around the tree to help him.
“This is my fault.”
“You know I love you, but right now I’m gonna have to agree.” The deaf man gasps as Steve and Bucky speed to them.
“Which direction?” Steve asks, but Bucky is already passing, almost like he could already sense where you had gone. Steve follows close and Nat gives one more look to Clint before he shakes her off and turns to Sam for help.
“We should have brought the witch.” Clint snaps, allowing Sam to coach him out.
Steve and Bucky take cover by the wall, looking to the post you had climbed as Nat takes the lead, being the first to climb up.
“Never thought we would be hiding from Y/n.” Steve whispers through the comns.
“It’s not Y/n, she was panicked and scared and mumbled something about Cornell.” Sam grunts.
“She said Cornell?” Bucky blurts, a little louder than intended .
“No. I just gave you misinformation for fun-”
“Shut. Up.” He snaps, using his metal arm as leverage up the beam to get to you faster. “Y/n!”
The ground beneath the building shakes a bit, and he hits the floor of the building to hold himself stable, taking a moment to review his surroundings. No gun in sight, and no weapons shown. You were an enemy but you were also still attacking.
“Y/n!” He calls again, the ground shakes more.
“Barnes!” Nat calls, lunging in with Steve.
-
“Y/N!” Cornell calls, but you couldn’t stop, you were running. You were free and there was nothing that was going to stop you now.
You were no longer his pet.
A shot rings out as the forest branches tear at your skin, and you don’t recognize the pain until you step on the leg that had been shot and a scream tears through your throat as you hit the floor, pain filling your body.
You try to silence yourself, you really do but there is nothing that could stop the sobs as you try to pick yourself back up, you had to do this. You had to save yourself.
There is a blur in the corner of your eye and you were sure Cornell had caught up, so you pull the strength to stand and keep running.
-
Once you hear that name, the name you recognize as your own, you can do nothing but run.
There are people running behind you, but you don’t risk a look back, and you don’t have enough energy to fight them so you focus on running.
This was something you knew, you were going to be free.
There is a blur to your right, and you realize that you are running against people with superspeed and can’t really fight that. So you turn to the left, only to be tackled by a figure you hadn’t even seen.
“Dollface.” Someone gasps out, the feeling of metal and flesh wraps around you in a soft embrace as they try to slow you down. “Cornell is not here. Dollface I swear it.”
-
The blur had caught up, holding out his hands to you in a calming manner, doing his best to ease you down from the very tightrope you had formed.
“Cornell is not here, okay? I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya.” The stranger hushes you, getting closer and closer.
You recognized it now, you knew him. This was your closest companion. He had saved you from Cornell and he had come for you.
So you take a deep breath, turning to him with tears in your eyes as you try to calm down, trying to remember how you had ended up here in the first place.
“You came for me…” You whisper, a sob escaping your lips. “I’m sorry I ran.”
“It’s okay.” The man holding you eases, letting go of you slowly. “We’re here for you dollface.”
“Thank you….” You cry, missing the confusion on his face when you turn away from him. “Thank you for coming back for me Stevie.”
“I’m Steve.” The blonde stranger smiles, rubbing your shoulders. “But my friends call me Stevie.”
“Stevie…”
-
Bucky is at an absolute loss of words, feeling you rush from his grasp to jump into Steve’s arms quickly, a pang of jealousy crossing through him when he sees Steve wrap his arms around you and kiss your head.
This can’t be real.
He doesn’t know what to think, he doesn’t know what to do.
Everything in him is screaming to grab your attention and bring you into his arms, apologize for ever ignoring you and taking what he had for granted. To promise that he will never leave you again and beg you to forgive him.
But you are sobbing into Steve’s chest and before he can act on his thoughts he catches Nat’s eyes. But when he was expecting a warning from his friend he was mistaken, instead he saw a devastating jealousy written over her face as she watches Steve hug you.
There is another sinking feeling as he realizes, finally, why Natasha had been so firm on protecting him in this situation.
“You both are so wrapped up in each other that you forget to breathe without each other. Codependency hurts more when it’s forcefully torn rather than willingly.”
Natasha had gotten attached…. To Steve.
-
Tony is waiting at the landing pad when the quinjet arrives, nerves in his stomach rumbling. He hadn’t received a confirmation from anyone, and that was never a good sign. So he was the first out, watching as the ramp door opened and his team was revealed.
A relieved gasp escapes him when he sees you, curled into a blanket with vines covering your arms and legs, a bit of green smudging your cheek and the tips of your fingers. He takes a couple quick steps forward, ready to greet you, until he sees Natasha storm down.
“What’s going on Widow?” He asks, only for her to rush past with Clint on her heels. Sam follows, rubbing the back of his neck with a saddened expression.
Bucky walks up next, jaw tight and his fists tense as Tony looks at him.
“Why aren’t you with Y/n?” He hated Bucky, but even he knew this was unsettling.
“Ask. Stevie.” Bucky snaps, shouldering past Tony as he finally looks back to where you are holding on to Steve’s hand, just like you had the first time he brought you here.
“This is a mess.” Steve whispers, leading you to the door. “A mess I don’t know how to fix.”
TAGLIST:::: (this was alottttt and I hope they all worked. Love you all and I hope you enjoyed this part!)
SUMMARY: Thirteen is a HYDRA pawn, a soldier, a spy and an assassin. A wraith. Chosen because of her powers and transformed into the perfect weapon. (enchanted!reader) What happens when her mission becomes locating and eliminating The Winter Soldier?
IMPORTANT: I won't use Y\n but the lead character will be given a name and will be a fully formed character. Set in a time where everyone is still alive and Bucky is free of the hydra. Warnings: violence, blood, torture, and manipulation. Vulgar language. The story will contain adult content. Probably a whole lot of Smut.
CHAPTER TWO: US AND THEM.
Peace is an abstract concept made by powerful people to install faith in the institutions of the world that claim to keep crime and danger at bay. In all the years I’d been living, I quickly realised that it was indeed a false concept, a lie, considering that the same people who claimed to protect the world were installing the danger in it. The idea of peace is nothing but a facade that is used to manipulate the masses.
Hydra was claiming to cleanse the world from evil, but how could they pretend to act for world peace when they were responsible of the death of millions? Couldn’t they see the blood tinting their white vest of morality? How could they profess goodness when they were keeping dozens of slaves under their polished boots?
The Avengers were painted as heroes. Flying around to beat up the evil—that, yes, when they weren’t busy fighting among themselves.
There had been a time when I had hoped for them to come and rescue us, me, from Hydra. But, it soon faded; hope was dangerous, it only led to disappointment and despair. Instead, I focused on survival. I had waited, spending days laying facedown on the filthy floor of the cells and weeks silently witnessing the deaths of my cellmates one after the other. The years I had passed, fed with injections of syringes, and pumped up with synthetic drugs to accomplish assignments that were impossible for anybody else, had helped me to give up all hope, not just in the Avengers but also in the rest of the world.
I ingenuously thought they weren't saving us because they were fighting each moment to defend their values, as we fought every day for a cup of water or a bit of sleep, but no; here they were, drinking champagne in fancy dresses, dancing, as the world outside cried their names.
The fair of peace for the future was another clown show created by the government to show the citizens that the future was safe. The secretary of state had delivered a very long sermon on heroes and peace, licking the avengers' arses every two sentences, and delivering sexist remarks about the heroines of the team—that made my fingers tickle the trigger of my rifle more eagerly than I should have—but in between inaugurations and philosophical peace speeches, the secretary of state made sure he got an exclusive on the prostitution trade every single month, and on the remaining days he accepted bribes from Hydra. So, he would end up murdered, one way or another, but killing him wasn't allowed in my future.
I guessed I couldn’t even proclaim myself as a white knight of peace, not when I was currently waiting to bomb the shit out of it.
“I have eyes on the target.” I murmured into the radio, lowering the binoculars to eye the building where the fair was taking place.
My body moved without me telling it what to do. It checked the ammo, fastened a couple of guns to my legs, secured the daggers around the belt, and lowered the rifle behind my back.
"I hope you mean this horrible building," Marya's voice said in reply. The radio cracked with her voice.
The building was indeed quite horrible—a white oval with an awful lot of windows. It was not a safe place, not even with the dozens of security guards standing outside the building. The others had by now removed the guards and placed the explosives.
The orders had been made clear that it had to be set to trap everyone inside, and us inside with them. The roof was the way out. A soldier had infiltrated the rooftop guards to take control of the chopper when the time was right.
I lowered my hand, and as I willed it, a light flared beneath the skin, producing a flame on the palm of my hand. It swirled on itself, hissing like a wild animal. I allowed it to dance around my fingers with a smile. “It will burn down with the lot of them.”
Marya had been with us for what I imagined was a couple of weeks; sharing a wall of bars had quite made us close. It wasn’t friendship; I didn’t even remember what friendship was supposed to feel like, but we were accompanying each other on long missions and on the dark, cold nights at the headquarters—holding my hand in hers like a loving mother and whispering funny stories of her childhood, telling me how her family had always been loving and caring for her and the rest of her siblings. She often cried, remembering them, thinking about what they thought when they remembered her—I cried with her most of the time, thinking about my brother and the life we had lost.
I knotted the rope to my body, crawling down the side of the building in the silent shadows of the night.
As the other soldiers would trap them all inside, and I would be focused on The Winter Soldier.
The programme they implanted in his head was nearly perfect, certainly better than the one in my head; ours was injected with syringes and would fade away after some weeks, leaving us begging for more. I didn't know why these people wanted the soldier, but I was in charge of bringing his body back with me to the base. I wasn't in a position to care about the reason; the only thing I needed was for my brother to be safe.
I nodded to the other soldiers when I crossed the doors. As soon as I was inside, they all disappeared.
The people were all gathered in the big hall on the second floor, watching the performance. And I was going to give them the most beautiful spectacle—the one they were going to pay with their lives to watch. I distantly heard the noise of the bombs going off behind me.
I smirked.
The game was finally on.
The door of the big hall flew open. The people inside began rushing out, scarfs and clothes over their mouths, to block the smoke from entering their lungs.
I rolled my eyes—people really didn’t know how to save themselves. Running straight into the arms of danger.
I grabbed my rifle and fired shots against the walls. They all dropped in an instant, moving out of the way, and clearing the way for us.
He was in the back of the room. Beautifully swinging punches and kicks at the soldiers surrounding him, ducking out of the flashes of knives. I walked to him, taking my sweet time to extract my favourite dagger from the belt.
The soldiers didn’t waste any time, shooting and punching their way to the Avengers. I recognised a couple of them—I saw the widow jump straight for one of us, leaving him at her feet an instant later. The Captain was, as usual, throwing his shield at the enemies and shouting orders. An arrow flashed past me, grazing my cheek, but I paid no mind; somebody else would take care of that. I saw out of the corner of my eye the soldiers shooting in the direction of the Hawke without breaking the protective circle they had me in—if I didn’t grab a hold of the Winter Soldier, none of us would go unpunished. And then, finally, I saw him
One of the soldiers, S-32 was his number, was attacking too roughly, advancing too closely. He swung a powerful punch at the Winter Soldier, making his head shoot sideways. I saw his blood spraying the floor. Another soldier came, locking his arms behind him. S-32 raised a knife, arching down straight for the Winter Soldier’s throat. The knife flashed closer and closer and brushed the skin of his neck before it stopped.
S-32 stared at me in shock, his eyes wide. His mouth opened, but only a pained groan escaped his trembling lips. He shot his eyes where my hand was closed around his wrist, my skin glowing and his flesh fuming away through my fingers.
“He is mine.”
I kicked him in the chest, watching his body tumble to the ground amid the fight.
I nodded to the other to release him, and his hands couldn’t have dropped faster.
I stared at the Winter Soldier, bending my head to the side to study him better. He was panting in pain, but I couldn't feel any remorse. The power coursing through my veins was too intoxicating to resist. The first thing I noticed were his blue and intense eyes. They reminded me of the ocean, but with a dangerous edge that made me shiver.
I threw another knife from my holster, imbedding it on the floor between the Winter Soldier's feet. He stared at it, then at me.
I winked. "I'd hate for this to be boring."
The Winter Soldier's eyes narrowed, sizing me up and trying to figure out if it was a scam or not. I took a step forward, keeping my eyes locked on his.
"You know," I said, "I've heard a lot about you. The things you've done... they're pretty impressive." He didn't react, remaining frozen in the little bubble that had formed around us. I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Recognition? Regret? It was hard to tell.
"I don't do that anymore."
"It's cute you think you can escape this," I mocked him.
I quickly turned around to face him, my heart racing as I braced myself for his next move. He lunged at me with the knife. I bent sideways, avoiding that flash of silver.
I didn't wait any longer and lashed out in attack. As I lunged forward, I felt a rush of adrenaline. My foot collided with his stomach, making him stumble backward. He doubled over, escaping from my attack like intangible smoke. He rolled out of the way, rising on his feet behind me, knife in hand and ready.
"Let's dance, doll."
In a flash, the Winter Soldier was on his feet, behind my back, immobilising my arms against my torso with his metal arm. He pressed me against his hard chest. The knife angled beneath my chin, and his breath caressed my ear as he bent down and whispered, "It's cute you think you can beat me."
I took a step back, my eyes locked on his, searching for any sign of weakness. He was quick and agile. Hydra had definitely wasted their time training this man, but they had done it with me too. With a sudden burst of energy, he charged at me again, his knife glinting in the light. I sidestepped his attack and landed a swift kick to his side. He stumbled backward.
The Winter soldier grabbed his side, slightly hunched on his side. I dove forward, sending my knife to slice the air towards his forehead. But the bastard grabbed my wrist, like I had done with S-32 minutes prior. His metal hand crushed it so hard that I felt my bones' wishes to snap. He twisted my wrist until my fingers spasmed open, and the blade clattered awkwardly to the floor. If any of my trainers had been watching, they would have whipped me into unconsciousness.
There was something in his voice that made my blood roar violently in my veins. I involuntarily licked my lips.
"If you're done flirting with me, soldat,” I hardly recognised my own voice, and that mocking smile that could be heard in it. “I'd like to kill you now."
I concentrated on my back, making the skin flare up with fire. He hissed. At first, he tried to hold on to me, but he stumbled back, surrendering to the pain. The knife fell, and I kicked it to let it disappear in the crowd.
As soon as there was space between us, I elbowed him in the groin. I laughed as he groaned in pain, finally rolling away, free from his hold.
With a quick movement, he lunged at me again, his metal arm glinting in the dim light. I dodged his attack and countered with a swift kick to his side. He grunted in pain but didn't back down.
We continued to exchange blows, each one more powerful than the last. As the fight dragged on, I could feel my energy waning, but I refused to give up.
The winter soldier's punch came straight for my mouth. The hit almost knocked me to the ground, but I managed to stay on my feet. I could feel the blood trickling down from my lip. The winter soldier smirked at me, his intense eyes now filled with a hint of amusement.
I knew that this fight was far from over.
I wiped the blood off with the back of my hand. My lips curled in a small smirk of their own.
"I hoped I didn't have to use this," I told him, showing him my hand, the fire rolling on my fingers, "Hydra won't be happy if I burn you to fucking ashes, but hey!" I shot a wave of fire, making it more solid than hot, sending him backward. I shrugged. "Accidents do happen."
I knocked him down twice, sending him further and further into the back of the room, right where I saw Marya keeping the door open for me. She was leaning against the door, using a small knife to clean the underside of her nails, unbothered by the chaos and destruction that was going on around us.
The Winter Soldier stumbled on his feet again, and finally, sending a last blast of power against his chest, he stumbled out of the room.
I nodded to Marya, and she moved to grab her two guns, diving into the room and locking the door behind her.
I took my rifle from my back, and pointed it straight for his heart. “It’s just you and me now, soldat.”
“You don’t have to do this,” he spoke, holding up his hands to show submission.
“Don’t I?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended. “Are you going to appeal to my sense of pity? Because I have none.”
None I could feel; not at the moment. Not when whatever they shot in my veins was making my heart hammer so loud in my ears that my head felt like it was about to explode; not when I knew what would happen to me and the others if I failed.
“I can help you.”
His eyes were kind, almost sweet, but it was pointless. I didn't know how long I could resist the urge to give in to the voice screaming at me to complete my mission.
“Help me?” I laughed bitterly. “It is a bit late for that.”
I pressed my finger on the trigger. I didn’t know why I was entertaining his idiotic desire to speak with me. I didn’t know why I yet had to shoot a bullet in his heart—heart, not head—because, for whatever reason, my orders prevented me from performing my regular schedule.
“I know they control your mind. I can help you get out of their control. Let me help you. I have connections," he said, "people who can protect you and your loved ones.”
I shook my head.
I opened my mouth to speak again, to scream at him to shut up, to stop messing with my time.
“Nobody can save us,” I said. I heard the sound of the chopper igniting and taking off and the noise of screaming in the distance. The sinister whispers of the serum in my ears and the roaring of the fire.
“The building is on fire. You will die one way," I raised my rifle to aim at his heart, "or the other. Goodbye, soldat. Hydra sends its regards.”
Then everything exploded.
I felt my body flying, smashing against the wall. Then everything turned black.
“Thirt-” a voice broke the surface of the fog clouding my mind. “Thirteen…are you—”
My throat felt like sandpaper, it was aching, and it burned. I brought a hand to my head, as if to find out if I could feel something other than the loud ringing in my ears.
The hand came away stained with blood. I coughed, groaning in pain.
I couldn't understand where I was, couldn't understand why I was in pain. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, making the tears that had been stuck in my eyes fall, and tried to bring my surroundings into focus.
Everything was tinted in red, smoke was filling the room. The flames were slowly consuming the area around me, but my powers had squeezed me into the familiar protective shield, allowing me to breathe. The fire would not burn me, would not kill me—the scientists had tested it in any way they could think; they burned every part of my body, shoved burning iron on my body, in my eyes, in my throat, but nothing; the smoke would kill me, with time, and those damn powers didn't even give me the joy of an unexpected death.
My throat felt like sandpaper; it was aching, and it burned.
I lifted myself onto my knees, bracing myself with my hands when the world wobbled violently.
The screams in the distance were now drowned out by the crackling of the fire. I knew I had to get out of there, but my mind was still reeling from what had just happened. The sinister whispers of the serum echoed in my head, getting quieter and quieter. And for the first time since I had woken up, my head wasn’t heavy and my mind wasn’t blank.
"What the fuck is going on?"
For the first time in years, I was out of the base, and I didn't feel the black mask of the drug pushing me down. There was no constant pain that clutched my heart and mind, no voice in my head making me do things I hated. The world around me seemed brighter and more vibrant than ever, as if I were seeing it for the first time.
Tears rolled out of my eyes. I stared at the door, and I gathered myself to run out of it. Maybe I'd reach those mountains I had seen on the mission to Norway a few years back. I could finally escape and hide. I would be free. Free.
But then I saw him—the sergeant, the soldat, the Winter Soldier slumped on the ground, eyes closed and still as a corpse.
And I remembered the mission. The headquarters. The other soldiers. The fucking microchip they had implanted in my body, prevented me, even in my clearest moments, from escaping.
The rifle was lying somewhere in the room, but retrieving it was the least of my thoughts. I remembered all those words the scientists had shouted in my face, as they beat, whipped, and carved my body according to their pleasure. Michael. Michael would die if I disappeared like that.
I sobbed, mourning for the life I didn't get to live, for the things I wasn't allowed to feel. I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. I couldn't let my emotions consume me, not now. Michael would be safe, and I would need to sacrifice my life for him. It was a small price to pay for the life of my only family. I had to get up and go back, no matter how hard it was.
But I had a choice to change things. To make them better.
I crawled to the soldier as blood began to trickle from my nose. I groaned with pain as I rolled him onto his back, placing my fingers on his neck. He was alive.
His words echoed in my head.
I can help you. I can help you.
I eyed the exit; it was engulfed in fire, and an escape through the windows was unlikely. "Soldat." I shook him from his shoulders roughly, but nothing. "Soldat. Wake up! Come on."
His eyes stayed closed. Shit.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I had to think fast.
"Thirteen! Thirteen! Report now." I nearly ripped my belt off in my haste to grab the radio. Marya's voice came through, screaming at me to inform her whether the mission had been successful. "Is the target dead?" I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.
And I could make no other decision.
My heart was pounding as I took a deep breath and replied, "Affirmative, target eliminated."
"Meet us at the rendezvous point in ten minutes.”
I knew what her words actually meant, if I was not there in time, a squad would track down my microchip—whatever that thing was—and execute me for desertion. Mission accomplished or not. I had to move fast.
"Copy that."
I took another moment to stare at the man before me, looking so peaceful despite everything. He was strong enough to have survived that long in the smoke, in that moment, I had to be strong and pull us both out of this hell. "I hope you're worth it."
I wrapped my arms around the soldier and began to pull, nearly screaming from the pain in my muscles, but I had no time to find an alternative. I couldn't do anything else.
"Damn it, you're heavy." I yanked him with me, stretching the shield around both of us. “If we both die because you want to pull a Sleeping Beauty on me, my ghost will torture yours for eternity.”
The crossing was excruciating.
I dragged him through the big chamber, and then, kicking open the doors, I hauled him up the fire escape to the roof.
I collapsed on the floor beside him, desperately gasping for air. The soldier was still unconscious and unmoving, but he was breathing, and his pulse was steady. And that was enough. Enough to hope.
I lifted the sleeve of his jacket, exposing his arm. And being the only thing at my disposal, I began to write on his arm with my blood.
"You said you could help us." I gave him one last look. "Please do it."
I jumped down the stairs again, submerging into the fire and disappearing.
For the first time in years, the familiar bite of hope came back to haunt me, I only hoped not to be absolutely devastated by the consequences of my actions.
Please, Let me know what you think and if you would like to be tagged in later parts!
Disclaimer: all of my chapters will have a title with the name of a song. This chapter has the title 'Us and them', a song by Pink Floyd. It has no correlation with the story, but I thought it was nice to let you all know.
@mori1b2bpad @lady-bellyn @thefandomplace @bonkyandsteebluver @billihill - let me know if you still wish to be tagged to the next parts or deleted from the tag list.
