III. In Between Dreams
word count: 4.3k
pairing: (winter soldier)Bucky Barnes x Reader
summary: The Winter Soldier is plagued by dreams of you, and although he does not remember why, he feels as though Pierce is hiding something about you. And him.
warnings: violence as always. nothing too egregious in this one.
notes: alright lovelies, the third part is out! we are just over the halfway point in the movie's timeline and inching closer to some of my favorite moments (mainly the highway scene). and if you'd like to be put on a taglist for this series let me know!
enjoy reading :)
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The Winter Soldier awakes, his eyes blinking up at the blank ceiling dully.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. Duty calls.”
The Soldier eyes the man leaning against the doorway of his cellroom, two guards entering, standing on either side of the room.
It’s routine at this point. He should feel surprised they’ve kept him out of the cryo chamber for this long, a full 127 days.
It’s the longest the Soldier’s been awake, every few days it seems he’s sent on a mission. Mostly recon and assessment; a few overseas HYDRA gatherings, acting as eye candy for Pierce who loves to show him off like a trophy; and of course, the killing.
He should feel invigorated at being awake for so long, but he wishes they would just put him under again. Pump him full of drugs and shove him back into the freezing chamber. At least there it’s quiet. Dreamless.
Here, it’s never ending barbarity. Nightmares. Blood. Screams.
The Winter Soldier gets up out of the hard metal bed, following the man down the long hall. He blinks, trying to shake the sluggish cloud currently in his head.
Another reason the Soldier had come to despise being awake this long. They kept putting him into the machine. He doesn’t remember what it does, he doesn’t think they’ve ever told him. All he knows is the pain of being strapped to it, the fatigue and heavy headache which always follows.
And the dreams.
Pierce kept the Soldier in isolation for the most part. Not that he minded being alone. When he was alone, no one could hurt him.
But being alone meant all he could do was remember. Remember the nightmares which plagued him every night. Replays of the brutal assassinations he carried out. Nightmares of Siberia, of bullets tearing through his skin, a woman’s hands gliding along his body as he lays unable to push her off, a cold winter day-
A train, high above him, his body flailing as a scream rips through his voice-
They weren’t things he liked to dwell on.
But then, one night, after a particularly exhausting hour in the machine, he had the first dream. Lighter, softer than the nightmares.
He can’t remember it now, just fragments and pieces. A soft hand against his thigh, a feminine figure standing across from him, eyes sad yet kind, piercing. If he tries hard enough, he can almost picture the woman.
Or, at least that’s what he tells himself. When the Winter Soldier wakes after these dreams, he can’t shake the aching feeling in his chest, like he’s missing something.
And he’s left to wonder what it means.
The Soldier is brought to the large weaponry room, Pierce stands with a folder in hand.
“Ready to comply, Soldat?”He nods, taking the folder from Pierce.
“It’s simple. Take care of the target. It’ll be broad daylight . Be quick about it, but keep it public. We can’t let him slip away.”
The Winter Soldier opens the file, a picture of a dark man with an eye patch peering up at him. Nicholas Fury.
It was simple enough.
“Where is he?” The soldier questions.
“No need for pursuit. We’ll bring him to you.”
The preparation is small. Various guns and missiles loaded into a disguised van. There are soldiers milled about in the private HYDRA hanger, all disguised in police uniforms, the cars wrapped to look like police cars.
The Soldier follows a guard, getting into the truck as the guard opens the door for him. He sits inside the truck, allowing the STRIKE guard inside to strap weapons to his chest, and place a pair of dark goggles and a mask onto his face.
He stills his breathing, trying not to give in to the way the mask stifles his breathing.
The van ride is long, and the Winter Soldier sits, patient. He pictures himself as a caged animal, waiting to be released, muzzled and violent. He doesn’t like the image.
But it’s for HYDRA. To shape the century. For the betterment of the world as Pierce tells him. But the longer he’s awake, the less he believes it.
The Winter Soldier is dropped off on the corner of a street, instructed to wait. And he does. He waits alert in the shadows, listening for the chaos of cars and sirens. He finally steps out onto the street when he hears the loud crashing of metal, the squeal of tires and multiple gunshots.
The team of faux police cars herd Fury’s black van onto the designated street, chasing him into a trap. A sheep being led to slaughter.
As the van approaches, the Soldier takes a breath, raising the gun.
He fires, calmly sidestepping the now burning van as it barrels towards him. The van flips and rolls.The Soldier watches as it comes to a screeching halt.
He approaches, steps quick but steady. His metal hand grips the door of the van and he rips it off and tosses it aside. His nostrils flare with annoyance.
The inside of the van is empty, nothing but broken glass and empty bullet shells.
He hears a voice in his earpiece.
“We’re tracking him now, Soldat. Extraction and relocation will be at your location in 2 minutes.”
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The Winter Soldier hauls himself onto the rooftop, footsteps light as he treads towards the wall. STRIKE had located Fury in an apartment complex, not far from SHIELD headquarters. The sky grows dim, the sun setting on the horizon bathing everything in shadows. The Soldier blends in with ease, becoming one with the night.
He passes an apartment window and peers into it, the room dark and empty. It’s a bedroom, the contents indicating it likely belonged to a young female. With his metal hand he breaks the lock on the window, popping it open and sliding inside.
His boots are quiet against the rug and he moves through the apartment, listening to the people in the hall. It’s hard to hear, even with his enhanced hearing because of the music coming from the neighboring apartment, but he can just make it out.
“Are you sure you’re alright? That looks like it really hurts.” The voice is male, bright.
“It’s just a bruise. It’ll heal. I’ve had worse” A feminine voice, likely the resident of the apartment. The Soldier readies his silencer, moving into the shadows of the room, always sticking to the rule.
No witnesses.
But the girl doesn’t enter the room. There’s something about her voice. He strains to listen, telling himself to focus on finding the voice of the target. But the Soldier stays against the wall for another minute, listening for the girl’s voice again.
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” There’s a pause. “You don’t have to-”
“No, I’d like to.” It’s soft. Pretty. Words prick the back of his mind, but he shuts them out.
Focus on the mission.
There’s shuffling and the door opens.
“You left your record player running…”
The male’s response is muffled as they enter the apartment.
It’s as if he’d heard it once before, in a dream. The voice soft and gentle. The words surface once more.
“You did your job. And I’m grateful.”
“I’m sorry moya lubov.”
The Soldier shakes his head. He doesn’t have time to dwell on dreams. Not when the consequences of failing rest heavy on his shoulders.
He moves to the wall dividing the apartments, listening. He can hear the male from the hall, speaking. And then another voice. Deep. Hollowed with pain.
It has to be the target. The Winter Soldier moves across the small living room and opens the window leading to the fire escape. Quietly, he steps onto it, slinging the rifle on his back off, prepping the trigger and target line as he looks into the neighboring apartment.
There he was. Nicholas Fury, slumped in an armchair. It wouldn’t take much to finish him off.
Standing across from him, his back turned to the Soldier was a blonde haired man dressed in brown leather. One hand rested on his hip, the other clutched a metal shield, decorated in red and blue.
As the Soldier aligns his rifle to his eye, setting the target on Fury, a movement catches his eye. He shifts the rifle to the open doorway in the apartment, the female entering.
She moves towards his target, handing him a glass of water and crouching down, mouth moving as she speaks to him.
The Soldier’s brows furrow. He can’t see her face. He wants to see her face, feels he needs to see it. That feeling is back in his chest, the ache of familiarity.
“What’s your status Soldat?” He clears his throat, answering with whispered Russian.
“Target located. Waiting for clear shot.” A lie. One adjustment and he’d blow the man’s chest wide open. But his eyes remained trained on the back of the girl’s head, willing her to turn around.
As if she had hear him, she turned, looking to the blonde man-
It was so fast, the Soldier feels he can hardly breathe. And it’s not because of the mask.
There you were. He feels it, that same ache in his chest he gets when he dreams. You looked different than he thought, a dark bruise blooming on the side of your face, a bandage taped to your cheek.
But your eyes… the Winter Soldier could recognize them from all the way through his rifle scope. The same set of eyes, kind but sad.
And to see you here, with the target…
The Soldier feels a pang of concern. He wished he knew what it meant.
The Winter Soldier furrows his brows and aligns his target with Fury once more. He doesn’t have time to worry over fantasy and dreams. They don’t matter. If Pierce says they don’t, then he’ll listen.
He doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger now.
Fury goes down, the blonde man pulling you behind him as he crouches, holding up the shield.
The Soldier activates the comm.
“Mission accomplished.”
“Good Soldat. Extraction point is a mile south. Back of the parking building. Be ready in three minutes.”
He should get up now, head to the extraction point. But he stays a moment longer, watching you, your hands clinging to Fury, hands fumbling for your phone. The blonde man’s eyes dart around the room as he looks around, panic written across his face.
The man locks eyes with the Soldier and you look up as he speaks, his finger pointed towards the fire escape. The Soldier sees the moment your eyes catch his shadow through the window. He sees the fear written across your face, the longing. He doesn’t like it.
The Soldier moves, darting up the escape and onto the roof, boots pounding as he moves to the extraction point.
The image of your face is burned into his brain. And he wishes it wasn’t.
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Despite the warm and stuffy air of Pierce’s office, the Winter Soldier has chills running up his back. He was cold.
He was always cold.
The Soldier sits in the chair, eyes vacant as he stares at the large window providing a view of the city.
Why Pierce had called him to his office above the basement? He didn’t know. He didn’t particularly care either. He was just glad to have an opportunity to get out of his cell.
It had barely been 24 hours since he’d completed his mission, and since then he hasn’t stopped thinking. About you.
The Soldier would kill anyone Pierce asked him too, anyone who got in his way. He knew the work was important.
It had to be.
But this was the first time (that he could remember) he felt questions brewing beneath his chest. He wanted to know who you were, why you were with the target. Why did he keep dreaming about you?
He’d dreamt about you last night, clearer than before. You had been in danger, wearing a pretty dress, a man hovering over you, dangerously close. He had awoken sweating, wanting to shoot someone.
There are footsteps echoing down the hall outside the office, the pace set and heavy. The Winter Soldier straightens in the chair, waiting as the door opens and shuts with a bang.
“Apologies, Soldat,” Alexander Pierce walks into view, adjusting the tie on his suit. “Our guest is running a bit late.” Pierce sits in his office chair with a sigh.
He opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a glass and a bottle of alcohol. He lifts another glass, as if to ask the Soldier if he’d like one. The Winter Soldier stays still and Pierce accepts his silence as a no.
Jerk. The Soldier knows if he had said anything Pierce would be onto him about respect and conduct.
The Soldier’s fingertips twitch and he wishes he had something to fiddle with.
Boredom was something he had grown accustomed to. It was necessary or he’d have gone mad a long time ago. Maybe he had.
Waiting in stakeout missions, waiting for the perfect shot, waiting for the next assignment,
Waiting to be free…
But here, waiting in the office with Pierce, it was like an explosion ready to happen. And he wasn’t sure if it would be Pierce who would make the first move, or him.
The office door finally opens, Rumlow lingering in the door frame.
“She’s here sir.”
“Good,” Pierce gestures with his hand, “Have her come in.” Rumlow nods and leaves.
He’s gone for a minute and finally comes back, a girl in tow. The Soldier glances for a second, seeing her face-
It’s you.
The Winter Soldier tenses you as you walk in, takes you in and tries to disguise the fact he doesn’t want to take his eyes away. You weren’t in the comfortable day clothes he saw you in that night; instead wearing a set of tactical hiking gear, subtle yet practical.
When he spots the half hidden hydra patch on your shoulder, he knows this meeting will not be a pleasant one.
Your gaze latches onto him the moment you walk in the office, flitting between himself and Pierce at the desk. It’s full of familiarity and fear.
Your body is radiating with nerves, your hand brushing against the gun at your thigh as Rumlow shoves you into the seat next to the Soldier.
The Soldier tries not to think about how you were so close, this fragment of his dreams sitting right there next to him.
“Myshka. How kind of you to finally join us.” Myshka.
The name sparks something in the Winter Soldier, a memory, a feeling. He can’t quite reach it, like a word caught on the tip of one’s tongue. But he knows it’s there.
It’s important.
You’re important.
You swallow and cross your legs in the chair, sitting up straighter. You’re trying to look put together, to not look so afraid. The Soldier thinks the name is fitting for you in this moment, a mouse caught between three snakes, waiting for the moment they strike.
“I’m still not entirely sure why you called me here, Mr. Pierce.”
Alexander Pierce takes a tablet off of his desk, eyeing you as he pulls up a video, displaying it for the both of you to see.
The Soldier watches as the video plays, camera footage from SHIELD’s halls. There’s a flurry of movement from a STRIKE team, their group running down the main foyer of the building. A man comes crashing through the glass of the ceiling, ducking and rolling on the ground.
It’s the man who was with you that night, dressed in red, white, and blue, shield in hand.
An American Flag.
“You’re keeping the suit right?”
It’s a voice he recognizes as his own. But he can’t remember saying them. Or why he’s remembered them now.
The Soldier shakes the words from his head, paying attention to the way Pierce is looking at you, like a father ready to scold a child. Disciplinary. Authoritative. Afraid.
You look at Pierce, waiting for him to speak. The Winter Soldier is sure if he took out his knife, he’d be able to pierce the tension which lay thick in the air.
It was almost worse when the man didn’t lash out in anger. The silence of the office was punishment enough. The waiting was dread inducing, and the Soldier can hear your heart beating from where he sits.
“I hope in your inability to keep Rogers away from Fury, you at least have an idea of what happened to the intel he had stolen.” You shake your head.
“Sir, how would I-”
“You were there the night he died. You didn’t see anything. Hear anything Fury said to Mr. Rogers? He didn’t say anything to you.” You shook your head again.
“Sir, Fury doesn’t exactly trust me considering I work for you.” Pierce slams the tablet down on the table and points a finger at you.
“I find it hard to believe that you couldn’t get anything from him. You’re one of the best spies we have, and instead of thinking and doing your job, you were too busy jeopardizing the mission.”
“I didn’t do anything-” your voice raises and Pierce cuts you off.
“You called for the medics! What if he had survived? All that work-”
“I wasn’t about to blow my cover. Steve would have known something was up when he came back and found out help wasn’t on the way.” Pierce sighs, dragging a hand down his face.
“That’s over. I’m ending that project now. It won’t do us much good anyway now that Rogers is on the run.” You glance at the floor, and the Soldier notes the tension which returns to your shoulders.
Pierce stands from his desk, moving around it and leaning over your chair, caging you in.
The sight made his stomach churn.
“Myshka. Did Rogers tell you anything?” You don’t say anything, breathing heavy as you look anywhere but at Pierce. Pierce slaps you. Hard.
The impact leaves a bright red mark on your already bruised face and the Soldier can see the tears welling in your eyes.
“Don’t lie to me now.”
“I swear, Steve didn’t tell me anything about the intel. I haven’t even seen him since the hospital!”
“And Romanoff?” You lick your lips.
“She knows.”
“Knows you’re working for us?” Your lips tremble as you nod.
“It wasn’t hard for her to put it together. She’s smart.” The Soldier notes the strength in your eyes. Despite the fear, you had a level of confidence.
Pierce backs away from you, seeing this as well. He leans against his desk and crosses his arms. He’s quiet for a moment.
“Well, we can’t risk having you mess this up. You’ve already caused enough trouble and Project Insight will launch in two days.” Pierce looks to Rumlow who’s standing in the back of the office.
“Get her the schedules for Sitwell’s meetings. She’ll be acting as his new assistant for their duration.” The Soldier watches as you frown.
“But his meetings are with SHIELD stockholders. They’ll know who I am.”
“Precisely why you’ll be provided a disguise. And, if you make a move, they’ll have all the incentive to arrest you for treason.” Pierce checks his watch and you sigh.
The Winter Soldier watches as you look at him, your eyes glistening with secrets. He doesn’t like the fact he’s brimming with questions about you.
Pierce dismisses you and Rumlow first, and the Soldier watches as you leave, your gaze leaving his at the last second as you exit. Pierce frowns, watching the tablet again, replaying the footage.
“I’ll have your new targets prepared in a few hours. Be ready for the call.” The Winter Soldier nods and stands, like the compliant killer he was. But as Pierce goes to open the door to let him out, the Soldier’s tongue slips, the words leaving before he can bite his cheek and stop them.
(This is what happens when he let’s dreams cloud his mind)
“Who is she?”
Pierce’s eyes are fierce at the question. The Soldier tenses, and Pierce licks his teeth, annoyed.
“You really won’t let her go, will you.” The Soldier says nothing. It’s better to not answer. “It doesn’t matter who she is. Just know she’s not to be trusted.”
Then why does she make me feel this way?
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The Winter Soldier moves down the empty hall, silent and shadow like. He’s almost to the elevator, waiting to descend to the basement when he feels the presence behind him. The Soldier moves to grab the gun at his thigh, but his fingers come empty.
It’s not there, and as he turns he sees it in your hand, your body pushing him forward in his surprise into a broom closet. How did you know-
The small closet is enveloped in darkness as you close the door, locking it and banging your fist. He can hear Rumlow’s voice from the other side.
“Your five minutes start now. Five minutes and no more.”
“I got it,” you say, and it’s just the two of you in the dark room. The Soldier is uncomfortable, hot and cramped, his back pressed against the shelving unit, your legs grazing his as you lean your back against the door. You still have his gun pointed at him.
You’re both quiet for a second and then you speak.
“You really don’t know who I am?”
The Winter Soldier glares at you. He wants to, but now that he’s here, his gun in your hand so easily taken, he’s not sure he does. Maybe Pierce was right.
“Right now, you’re being a nuisance who’s disregarding orders.”
You sigh, tilting your head as if you don’t believe him.
“Always loyal. I’m trying to help you, believe it or not.”
“You almost cost me my mission.” If you really had gotten Fury help and if he had survived- the soldier can feel the phantom of pain running up his spine.
“Don’t.”
The Winter Soldier feels a spike of anger at your word, the feeling mixed with the strange feeling overwhelming his senses with you so close.
“I’m following orders. Like you should.”
“Do you even know what your orders are?” Of course he does. They’re simple. The same every time. Escort this HYDRA member. Kill this traitor. Obtain this weapon. Do this. Do that.
Clear, concise instruction. And he always executed them flawlessly.
Until you showed up.
The Soldier’s eyes glance down at the gun in your hand and you shift it back up towards his chest. He has a feeling you’re only holding it for him to see you were able to take it. You don’t seem like the type to actually shoot it at him.
“Let me rephrase that, have you never asked why you’re given these orders?”
The Winter Soldier’s eyes snap to yours.
“No.”
“And why not.”
He’s not allowed to question. Questions only lead to pain, to Pierce slapping him and telling him he just needs to follow orders. Questions only lead him back to that machine, that awful machine, and that stupid book, the one which overrides his thoughts and his actions.
“I can’t-”
You groan, frustrated.
“This is what they want. They don’t want you to question things. But you have to.”
“NO.”
“No!” Now it’s your turn to be angry. In the midst of your frustration and emotions, the Winter Soldier catches you off balance, grabbing the gun out of your hand and pushing you forward, pinning you to the door. He does it so fast, you barely have time to gasp before he’s pushing the gun into your side.
The Winter Soldier holds the gun, staring at you. He’d pull the trigger, save Pierce the annoyance of finding a place for you to sit in a timeout, and just kill you now. But he can’t.
You're so close to him and your body beneath his is overwhelming. Your scent. The curve of your mouth. The bandage on your cheek.
You’re breathing slows as you look up at him. You don’t move, just allow him to hover over you, caging you in.
You finally speak.
“You don’t ask questions and they win. They don’t want you asking because they know the minute you start, their whole facade crumbles.” The Winter Soldier frowns. You continue.
“You don’t know the whole truth. If you question them… if you were to find out the truth….” You swallow. “They don’t want you to know the truth because if you did you’d know all the lies they’ve fed you.” The Soldier doesn’t want to hear anymore.
“Stop.”
“No, I won’t-”
“STOP-”
“No, because I know you James!” He stills at the word, confusion brewing like a storm in his mind. “At least I think I do. And what you’re about to do…” you look down, taking a breath.
“If you go through with this, someday you are going to start to question things. And you’re going to regret going through with this.”
The Winter Soldier lets you go, panting. Everything you had said… he couldn’t believe it. Pierce had told him not to trust you. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t-
The Soldier shakes his head.
“You don’t know me.” You just look at him sadly.
From the other side of the door, Rumlow knocks, telling you time was up. You straighten yourself and unlock the door, the light from the hall bright as you slowly crack it open.
Rumlow pulls you out, whispering in your ear. "You better remember our deal."
The Soldier watches as you go to leave, remorseful and despondent.
“I’ll be here when you do remember. And I hope you do.”
You leave and the Winter Soldier shoves his metal hand into the shelves behind him, tearing at the first thing he could get his hand on.
Remember you. If he didn’t, this would all be so much easier.
And he hates that a part of him is already trying to search his mind for any memory of you.
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