I know, I keep saying I'll be back, but life's been hell, and hella busy. I'm trying my best. I wrote this after work and my brain was dead, so I can't guarantee it'll be grand or realistic.
Warnings: Mentions of self hatred, mentions of failure, mentions of human trafficking, memories of Bucky, gore, violence, fighting the winter soldier, some not so realistic things, angst I guess, separation, I think that's it but let me know if there is any more.
Word Count: 2.3k
“Transferred where?” You asked, eyebrows scrunched together as a scowl formed your lips. He was leaving? Requesting to transfer just because the mission went wrong? Disappointment flared in your mind and hurt grew in your chest.
“Don’t know, I’m not in charge of transfers.” Tony shrugged, stirring the coffee in his cup before taking a sip. “What’s the matter? You hate the man anyway, thought you’d be thrilled he’s gone.”
“It matters because he’s my partner,” you growled, annoyance flaring up. “And he’s a coward if he leaves.” You didn’t mean it. Bucky wasn’t a coward.
“Was.” Tony corrected.
You tensed at the word as if it was a physical attack. But he was right, you were supposed to hate the man, so why did it matter if he left. He was just a super soldier, and he hated you just the same. He was just a man who was starting to break down your walls, even to your disdain.
And maybe, you could be wrong, but you thought you were starting to break down his walls. Though if that were the case, then why did he leave you behind? Why did he leave you when you were vulnerable? That wasn’t what a good mission partner would do. That wasn’t what Bucky would do, so maybe he did hate you just the same. Maybe he played his act too well. Maybe you fell for it too.
“Whatever Tony.” You grumbled, thoughts zooming through your mind, going in circles. trying to calm your thoughts, you took a deep breath before speaking. “Thanks for the update.” Your voice was defeated, exhausted and quiet.
“Get some rest,” Tony murmured. “You’ll be back on the team before you know it.” And with that he took a step back and closed the door. You listened for a moment as his footsteps got further down the hallway.
You slumped down onto your bed, feeling like shit, yet not quite exhausted enough to sleep the rest off. You laid back on your bed, putting your head in your hands, sighing as your thoughts raced back and forth.
Have you done something? Said something? You thought you were becoming friends, but it would seem you weren’t considering he left. He left. Left you behind to continue on his own endeavors. Did he have a reason? Something that drove him or did he simply need to get away from you? The person he hated most?
The person everyone hated most. Everyone feared and loathed. Sought to get away from. Was he just another partner you failed? Another failed mission just as he was so long ago? Another failed target? Another failed accomplice? Another failed friend?
A failure.
Your thoughts had finally settled on one sentence.
You had failed him.
Your mind drifted back to the day you first saw him, the coffee shop. It was quick, done within seconds. He showed up in the blink of an eye, that metal arm flashing the sunlight at you. The red star, the crazy hair, the murderous look in his eyes as he dropped from the ceiling. The gunfire at the barista and the manager, then the politician sitting at the corner of the building. He hadn’t seen you, and just as quickly as he’d shown up, he was gone. You’d left the building quickly, reporting your findings to Fury. That was the day you’d been given your assignment.
Stalking him was your next mission, you played as a HYDRA nurse, tending to other experiments as you eavesdropped and gathered information on him. Went through files in secret, doing your best to not get caught. Studying him from afar, seeing over his training as you moved up in the ranks of HYDRA, of course all while being SHIELD’s secret agent.
Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him as the winter soldier.
______
The soldier seemed confused, almost as if he’d remembered something and just couldn’t decipher it as he walked away from the captain he once knew by the lake, the hovercrafts still crashing and falling from the sky in ruins.
It left you an opening.
You took your chance, jumping down from the tree with silent, lethal grace, tackling the winter soldier to the ground. You already had the equipment in hand, electrifying his metal arm and stabbing one of his kidneys.
He was injured, his metal appendage rendered useless. He was in agony, yet ripped the blade from his kidney and swung at you. You flung your head back, the blade just missing you. You managed to move, your body twisting and kicking the blade from his hand. Moving too fast for him to keep up, you flung your body away from him, putting distance between the two of you.
He grabbed his gun, getting to his feet as he fired the bullets. You moved in the bushes and trees, baiting him to fire each bullet. One grazed your ribcage, another just barely nipping your ear. You realized he’d kill you if you didn’t move now.
You went further into the woods, allowing the chase but not letting him become the predator. You hid well, using your ability to minimize his threat and further your own.
He followed you deeper in, and once he’d realized he’d lost you, you struck again, this time going from the ground and drop kicking him, grabbing his flesh arm in the process and yanking until you heard a loud snap and he cried out. The arm popping out of its socket. You managed to get a few feet away, watching in horror as he easily popped it back into place, using what little bit of the metal arm he had left to do so.
His eyes were murderous as he stared at you. He started walking towards you, it was deadly. And before you had the chance to react, he’d already held you by the throat, your feet dangling in the air, your hands clawing at his wrist. You couldn’t breathe, and if you let it go longer he’d snap your neck.
Using what little leverage you had, you swung your legs back and then threw yourself forward, your feet hitting his chest. As your feet collided, you’d managed to grab the knife from the hilt on your inner thigh. It threw him off balance, and he adjusted his footing, as he did so, you quickly took the blade and slit his wrist, forcing him to drop you.
As you fell you stabbed his thigh, and he was now bleeding profusely. He growled and went to grab you again, and you yanked the blade out and stabbed his calf, then twisted your body quickly, pulling the blade out once more and stabbed him through the palm of his hand. He yelled out of pain and frustration. His eyes went wild, and he snatched you by the wrist, the blade still lodged in his palm, he pushed until you heard a loud snap, and felt a searing pain. You knew it was broken, and you could partially see your bone sticking through your flesh.
You yelped and forced yourself free, your legs pushing against his and pulling with all your might, your vision whitening as your bloodied, broken arm sli[ped through his grasp. It was very clear to you that he’d let you go.
You pulled the dagger from your waistband and rolled between his legs, slashing the tendons at his ankle through his boot, then stood and slashed across his back, holding your broken arm close to your body, tears fleeing down your face. He finally hit the ground, blood pouring from each gaping gash. His eyes were furious, yet cloudy. Full of pain, hatred and anger.
You rounded him, facing his front yet a few feet away, as for protection of yourself. The longer you panted, catching your breath, and staring at him, the more you realized exactly what you could see.
Stab wounds, one at his kidney, his thigh, his calf, and through the palm of his hand. A slash on his wrist, across his Tibialis Posterior Tendon on his left ankle and another gash across his back, exposing the flesh and muscle flexing there. His flesh arm a little twisted and somewhat odd looking from you popping it out of the socket and him popping it back in.
The Winter Soldier , a ghost story, here in front of you on his knees, bleeding profusely from multiple wounds caused by you. He looked exhausted, confused. No longer willing to fight. Full of fear and anguish. Exhausted.
A soldier full of fear.
A soldier, no, a man. Someone’s little boy, a son full of fear. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to succumb to the monster that he was turned into.
“Please,” He whispered, tears in his eyes as he stared at you. “Help me.”
_____
It had been two weeks since Bucky had requested to transfer. Bucky sat in an old abandoned apartment building, the room he was in was still partly furnished, and he found himself sitting in an old rotted wood chair at a rotted coffee table, eating ramen for his dinner as his thoughts danced across his mind.
He hadn’t heard anything from you, and suppressed the urge to call and ask how your recovery was going. He had talked to Steve a couple times, Steve only mentioning you had been discharged. At least you were well enough to leave the hospital.
Seeing you in that drugged up, disoriented state. As much as he hated you, he didn’t enjoy knowing the fact that he couldn’t get to you in time to make sure you had never reached that condition.
God, he hated you, your stubbornness, your mystery, your hot headed, ‘let’s just get it over with’ mindset. The way you were so malicious and rude and at times devious. He hated how you always seemed to flirt with Steve only to turn around and say that you weren’t dating the blonde, blue eyed star spangled man with a plan.
He hated how you were always so smiley with Steve, how you almost seemed to flutter your eyes at the Captain. He hated how you didn’t flutter your eyes at him. Wait, that wasn’t right. He was supposed to hate you, wasn’t he?
You were trained to kill him, you studied his profile, learned how to hit him hard and fast, and treated him as an animal who only knew what being a predator was. Who only knew how to hunt. Treated him like the monster he truly was. The monster everyone thought he was. You were the only one who truly knew just how deadly his capabilities were. Just how lethal he could be, and yet you were still the only one to challenge him and win.
The only one to succeed in nearly killing him, and subduing him enough to be on his knees, heaving in pain and exhaustion.
Bucky remembered. He knew exactly what you were, you were more dangerous than him. Truly the Ghost among men. The grim reaper. He knew only what he could study on you, which was merely a few names. There was no truth to what he’d found after you spared him, setting him free.
When Tony had mentioned those few days ago that you’d been beaten after sparing him, Bucky hadn’t known how to feel. Much like now, the woman he should hate, yet hesitates. You could’ve been easily killed, making that rookie mistake that you did.
With how much skill you had, why had you willingly gone into the lion’s den? Why had you put yourself at risk? You knew better. Better than anyone else he’d ever met. Better than him. So why had you done it? What was so important in that trafficking ring to make you so reckless? This wasn’t the first time you’d been nearly killed on one of your missions, you allowing him to live proved that. So what information did you manage to find out?
He stood up, taking his ramen with him as he peered through the curtain and glanced out the window. His target was a middle aged man that had been on the guest list of the party, but never arrived.
A building away, a man was sitting at a desk in front of the window, typing away without a care in the world. His computer screen obscured. No matter, Bucky had his computer up and running as well, the screen from the man’s computer being mirrored onto his. He’d gone in earlier that day without being detected, and implanted a small hard drive into the man’s central processing unit. Bucky took another bite of ramen, flinching slightly as he burned his tongue, his eyes grazing over the screen as his brain pushed thoughts of you aside and started processing the information.
So far, it was just boring corporate emails, as it had been for the last two hours. Bucky groaned, running his hand down his face and setting down his cup of noodles. He wasn’t sure if he'd find anything on this man’s computer. His mind drifted back to you, you managed to make his job easier, with all your crazy tactics and techniques. You had so many more tools and resources than he did, you were quicker, no stop.
The whole point of transferring was because he needed to get away from you. It didn’t matter how much easier you made his job, the point was he could do his job himself, even if you were a gorgeous girl at his side who helped him a great deal. He was supposed to hate you and it was going to stay that way. He’d make sure of it.
