Bucky Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Ghost of you

summary: You've had a really shitty week, and to top it all off, the guy you've been dating for almost half a year also ghosted you. Just to suddenly appear in your living room with the worst excuse ever, or is it maybe the truth?

Bucky Barnes x Reader (Y/N) 

warnings: low self-esteem, trust issues, mention of violence, injuries, mention of the winter soldier, mention of torture and kidnapping 

words: 3508

You can also read this on AO3. 

and like always English is not my fist language so forgive me for my mistakes 

(GIF not mine)

It has rained all day, and in the early evening, heavy raindrops are still falling from the New Yorker sky. You drop your backpack next to the door and take a deep breath. The cold rain pulls your mood down even further. You had a shitty day. At first you overslept and were late for your morning college class, then your annoying professor talked bad about your last project and one of your fellow students, a slimy guy named Taylor, who kept asking for a date, no matter how often you say no, tried to cheer you up with some stupid sayings. "Maybe chemistry isn't the right class for you" and "In my opinion woman don't belong into science." Of course that didn't help. You had to pull yourself together not to beat him, but you didn't get through four years of studying organic chemistry and to get throw out of college now. In summary, you had a shitty day. Exhausted, you hang up your jacket and peel off your wet clothes. A hot bath will do you good now. While you walk through your small apartment to the bathroom, you check your cell phone. You have a few messages from your friends, an email with updates on your study group, and a missed call from your mom. But of course that one person didn't write to you. You haven't received a message from him for 5 days. Did you do something wrong? Said something stupid? Or is that just his way of telling you that he's no longer interested in you? Actually, you wouldn't think Bucky do something like that, he's a gentleman through and through and even brought you flowers on your first date. Usually you're not like that, you've never depended your mood on a man's attention, but everything is different with him somehow. The last six months you've been dating Bucky and everything has been kind of perfect. He's charming, polite, friendly and treats

 you well, plus he's incredibly handsome. And of course you fell in love with him. How could you not. Frustrated, you put your cell phone down next to the sink and let in the bath water. A bath will relax you, and then you will call your best friend and complain about Bucky. She's going to fall into hate speech about men and wishing again and again that she was a lesbian, then the two of you could get married. Unfortunately, neither of you are really into women. So this is what your Friday evening looks like, a lonely bath and a poor phone call while you cry over your sad single life. Maybe a box of Ben & Jerry's ice cream too. You sink into the hot water and lean back in the tub. The pleasant warmth is good for you and you will notice how your tense muscles relax.But the peace doesn't last long because your thoughts wander back to Bucky. It bothers you a little that you care so much about his attention, but you have got used to them. He usually texts you regularly, asking how your day is, how your classes are going and whether you can keep up with your assignments. Sometimes you wake up in the morning with a message from him telling you that he has a stressful day ahead of him, but he wishes you a nice day and would text you as soon as he can. You sigh, this time you haven't heard from him, at some point he just stopped getting an answer. Actually, you thought everything was going well. Bucky was the first man you trusted again after your ex boyfriend cheated on you after five years of dating. You've been taking it easy, going on dates, hanging out with each other, and feeling like you really got to know each other. He even told you about his nightmares and therapy, even if he never told you the reason, you noticed how difficult it was for him to open up, to be so vulnerable. Bucky met your friends and you wanted to introduce him to your parents by the end of the month. At least that was the plan. But maybe it was all just a trick of his? A trick to get you to bed, a trick that worked. Maybe it's because of this? Maybe you're bad in bed? But he never mentioned that he was dissatisfied. Apparently all men are the same. You shake your head to get rid of these thoughts, then take a deep breath and sink back in the bathtub so far that your head slips under the water. You enjoy the peace and quiet underwater, but unfortunately you run out of oxygen far too quickly, so you have to surface again. The water around you is slowly getting cold, for a moment you think about running warm water again, but you decide against it and climb out of the tub. You wrap yourself in a large, soft towel and grab your cell phone. Of course he didn't answer. Maybe you need a bottle of wine and a romantic comedy, after that you would be better off and maybe you could forget that the guy you had been dating for almost 6 months was ghosting you. You slip into your cozy pajamas, which you put on the bathroom heater this morning. You'd like to pat yourself on the back for this great idea. You leave the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen, your phone in hand, even if you know he won't answer. Have you been too clingy? Or did you tell him too soon that you love him? Wait a minute, you didn't tell him that, only thought a few times but never said it. Your mind wanders to your last date. It was movie night so you guys were watching one of those classics that Bucky loves to watch. And every time you have the feeling he is watching the film for the first time and does not know what it is about. As if the storylines and characters weren't widely known, at least if you haven't lived in a cave for the past 50 years. When you saw Titanic you felt like he was really surprised when Jack died. But maybe you just imagined it all. Maybe you don't know him as well as you thought. After the movie you went to bed and fell asleep in his arms. You remember that the last thought you had was that you never felt as safe with anyone as you did with Bucky. The next morning you had breakfast together and then he drove to work. Before he left the apartment, he gave you a passionate kiss, but he didn't ask when you would next see each other. Something he usually always did. But he called you that evening and complained about his coworker Sam and his constant good mood at work. For the next few days you kept writing messages and making phone calls, but suddenly it stopped. No more calls, no more answers to your message. Not even when asked if something happened and why he doesn't answer you. Complete radio silence for 5 days. You feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you don't want to cry. Not about some stupid, handsome, charming guy like James Buchanan ,,Bucky” Barnes. Maybe you're just not the kind of woman men can imagine a future with. "Hello Y / N." you jump a bit forward in shock when you hear Bucky voice behind you. Then you turn to him. He's sitting on the sofa in your dark living room, you can only make out his outlines. "What are you doing here?" you piss at him, your heart still beats faster with fright. You turn on the light and when you can see him properly you flinch again. There are cuts streaked through his face, covered with a few patches, he has one black eye, and the knuckles of his hand are red and scarred. His normally bright blue eyes look tired and dull. "What happened?" you ask him and walk up to him, you sink to your knees in front of him and take his left hand in yours and carefully study the many injuries on his face. Now you can also see the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the large hematoma that runs from his neck and presumably all the way down his shoulder blades and back. Bucky carefully lifts his hand and strokes your cheek. The cold metal on your warm skin makes you shiver slightly, but you lean into its touch. Forgotten is all the anger and sadness about ignoring your messages. "A lot of things went wrong this time." this answer doesn't really make you any smarter. "What do you mean?" you ask confused. "And why do you show up after almost a week of not hearing from you and look like you've been beaten up?" "I'm sorry. I'll explain everything to you. Please can I just hold you in my arms for a moment?" Still confused about the whole situation, you nod and let him pull you onto his lap. His arms wrap around your body and you nestle against his chest. You take a deep breath of his familiar smell, a few drops of water fall from his hair onto your cheek. He smells like shampoo, bandages and Bucky. It's just quiet for a while and you listen to Bucky´s steady heartbeat. "I'm sorry that I didn't answer your calls and that we haven't seen each other the last few weeks. I was out of town, not even in this country." he whispers softly at some point. "Where have you been?" you ask in the same volume. "Can't tell you." You sigh and sit up a little, his grip on your waist tightening a little, as if he's trying to hold you to himself. " Why are you lying?" you notice how tears well up in your eyes. Even when you are so close, you notice this invisible wall between you. Did he lie to you all along? You are tired of being lied to and it makes you incredibly angry and sad. "Please Y / N. I'm not lying to you. There's only so much I can't tell you. I´m not allowed to tell you." he looks sadly past you to the side. "I don't even know how to explain it to you." "Just try it." you want to tear down this wall, you want to know the truth. Even if it could hurt you. Is he cheating on you too? Does he have another girlfriend? Or maybe he's married and has kids and he's cheating on his wife with you? Does he lead a double life? Bucky takes a deep breath. "You know I have these nightmares." You nod and look at him carefully. "In these nightmares, I see my past. What happened to me or rather what I did. Although I actually didn't do it, not voluntarily. But I did it anyway and that haunts me. And because of that, I go to the therapy. Well, that's why I'm still doing it. It was ordered by court." "Bucky, it doesn't make any sense what you're saying." Bucky takes a deep breath. "I lied." immediately you tense up again and want to free yourself from his embrace, but he holds you tight. "Please listen to me, and when I'm done and you never want to see me again, I'll understand. Then I'll leave and you'll never hear from me again. Please." "I'll listen." "As I said, I lied." he starts again. "When I told you I served in Afghanistan. That was a lie, yes I went to war, but not this one. I went to war in Europe." Confused, you straighten up again. "What are you talking about? There hasn't been a war against the Europeans since 1945." "I know." Bucky is silent again for a moment. “I was born on March 10th, 1917 and I signed up for the war against the Germans in 1942. My best friend was Steve Rogers. He was made a super soldier and when my unit was captured he saved us. We tried to capture a man named Arnim Zola, but there was an accident and I fell off the train. Everyone thought I was dead. But I wasn't, they captured me, experimented on me, make me a super soldier and then they gave me a brain wash. " Bucky clenches his hands in a fist and you hear the soft creak of his prosthesis. He told you he lost his arm in an attack in the war, apparently that was the only part that wasn't a lie. "When the war was over, HYDRA used me to pursue their plans, and after every mission they put me into cryosleep." It will take you a few minutes to think about what he said. On the one hand, it explains a lot, the scars all over his body, the nightmares, the fact that he sometimes behaves as if he came from another time. But on the other hand, this whole story just sounds like a huge, big lie. Of course there are the Avengers, and Steve Rogers the super soldier from WWII, but brainwashing? Cryosleep? And all of that as early as the 1940s. You just can't believe him. You shake your head and break free from his embrace, this time Bucky lets go of you without hesitation. You take a few steps away from him, he is sitting on your couch and looks at you, his beautiful blue eyes are completely dull from the grief. He looks broken. "I don't know if I can believe you. And what does that have to do with the last few days and why do you look like you've been beaten up?" Bucky takes another deep breath. "A few years ago I was sent on a mission to kill Captain America. But Steve recognized me, he tried to help me. And when the helicarriers crashed, everything came back. I knew who I was again." He pauses briefly, you can see on his face that the memory is causing him pain. You remember the news report, there was talk of a Helicarrier malfunction. You look at Bucky and wait for him to continue talking. "Steve was trying to protect me, a lot of things went wrong back then. He had a fight with Tony because of me. I went to Wakanda to get the brainwashed out, it worked. The trigger words don't work anymore, but the memories are still there. I'm working on it with Dr. Raynor, and in the meantime I'm working with the Avengers now. I'm trying to somehow make amends for what I did then. I'm trying to help now and do what's right." Bucky falls silent and you try to understand what he just told you. Can this really be true? Or is it all just one giant lie? But why would he bother to think of something like that? But the whole story sounds so unbelievable. So unbelievable it could be the truth. "I don't know if I can believe you." you whisper into the resulting silence. "And if you're really telling the truth, why are you putting yourself in such danger? Look at you, Bucky, you're covered in bruises." "I have to do this and it's not really dangerous for me. Give me 2 days and all the scratches will be gone." Scratches. He really calls his wounds scratches, you shake your head in disbelief. He looks like he fell out of a moving car into a chasm and then got a good beating. He would never heal so quickly. "I'm a Super Soldier Y/N, like Steve. The serum makes me heal faster." he answers your unasked question. "Okay, let's say I would believe your story, I still don't understand why you put yourself in such danger? Why don't you do anything else? Why do you do this? What do you have to make up for? Did you kill someone? " "I've killed countless people Y / N. Innocent people. People who didn't fit HYDRA, political opponents, but also civilians, scientists, presidents, monarchs, politicians. And that for more than 70 years. I have a lot to make up for. I'm a killer, an assassin, a monster. As a Winter Soldier, there were no morals, there were no limits. There were only missions. I didn't ask why I should take out my targets, they probably wouldn't have answered me anyway, I just obeyed the orders. I was a weapon, I am a weapon. But now at least I'm the one pulling the trigger." You take a step towards him carefully, placing your hand on his arm and stroking his cheek with the other, tears glistening in his eyes and he leans into your touch. "I can understand if you're afraid of me now." His voice trembles and it almost tears your heart. Suddenly you are sure that he is telling the truth, you believe him. He could never think of something like that. He could never act the suffering, the fear and the pain. "May I hug you?" you ask quietly. Bucky immediately grabs your waist and pulls you back onto his lap, his arms closing around you and hugging you. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I lied. I wanted to tell you but I just couldn't. When I met you I thought wow, how can a person be so perfect? ​​How can a person be so good? I didn't deserve you, not after everything I've done. I didn't want you to know that I'm a monster. I wanted your perfect, peaceful world to stay the way it is. I never wanted to hurt you." “You're not a monster. Even if I can't quite grasp the whole situation, I know this for sure. You are not this person anymore, this … this…” "Winter Soldier." "Yes exactly, this Winter Soldier. You are not that monster that you are describing. It cannot be. The Bucky I know is nice, attentive and caring, you are one of the best people I know.” "But I wasn´t always like this, I am this monster, or I was and a part of the Winter Solider is still in me.” "No!" do you contradict him. "You're trying to make things right. You realized it was wrong. And you said you were brainwashed. Everything you did as a Winter Solider wasn't your choice, it wasn't your fault. These HYDRA people used you, you are a victim as well as all the people they had killed." Bucky's grip tightens a little, and only now do you realize how strong he really is, how long he had to hide his true power. He did it not to scare you, he lied to you because he doesn´t want to burden you with his trauma. He wanted your life to be free from the shadows of his past. You feel something wet drip onto your shoulder, and it takes you a moment to realize it's Bucky's tears. You carefully stroke his short hair, trying to calm him down. "I am sorry." he whispers into your neck. "You don't have to be sorry. I'm glad you told me the truth and I'll try to understand it. I'll try to help you. We're a team after all." "You won't leave me?" "No. Of course not. How could I leave you?" you take a deep breath. "I love you." Bucky flinches, then pulls away from you to look into your eyes. "I don't deserve your love." "Do not say something like that." He leans in a little to put his lips on yours, it's only a brief touch, but it makes your heart skip a beat and causes a pleasant warmth throughout your body. "I love you Y/N. I've wanted to tell you this for so long, but I was scared the whole time. I'm sorry if I hurt you, I didn't mean to lie." "It's okay. Sure, I've been mad and hurt and I've cursed you and sent you to hell more than once in the past week, but I understand you better now. Thanks for telling me." You kiss him, then lean back into his arms, the pain is gone from his eyes and he has a hint of a smile on his lips. Bucky hugs you tightly and gently strokes your back. You don't know exactly how long you've been sitting on your couch like this, but it's a nice feeling, you feel safe with him and you're glad that invisible wall between you has started to crumble. He opened up to you, told you the truth and showed you that he trusts you. And you're sure he has no idea how much that means to you. How much he means to you.

————-Maybe————

Description:

You work alongside Matt and Foggy at the law firm. Of course, as one of the most successful lawyers in the city the one and only Tony Stark would recruit you. As you are trying to find a meaning of your life you find life in someone. It may be a rocky start for you two but maybe it’s worth taking.

Chapter 7:

I walked out a metal door when all the stairs were finished. Quietly I walk on the overhead squaring over the main floor. My back was backed up to the closest wall. I felt like if I just walk normally trying not to be seen or heard I would eventually fall on my face. Trying to clench the wall and feeling the cold concrete was what I needed to calm my heart down. I came this far, can’t turn around now. “Maybe I should take you and with that your team will leave me alone” A dark voice was heard. I look over and see a tall broad shoulder man who was talking to Nat. Fuck. Her head was restless, unable to pick up her head. Both her arms are tied with chains and hanging like arag doll.

“You killed an innocent person, you really think we will let you go that easy?” While they continued talking I walked down some stairs in the back, careful to watch if anyone else or anything else was in the room. In the back of the man who I am guessing is Kidd, there was a table. He emptied his pockets. I grab a gun hand and press it to the back of his head.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up” He turns around to face me with an evil smile on his face. I had the gun and the upper hand but he was the one who was calm. “I did my own research on you” Every step he takes I take a step back. “I know where you came from”

“Shut up” I take the gun closer to him. “You have nothing to say to me. Let her loose '' He chuckles, turning around and before I could do anything he pulled out another gun aiming it to the cieling and taking a shot. The glass crumbles down with dirt flying everywhere. I pull on the Nats lever and cover her.

“Y/N. The place is about to fall down. Take the door to your right. The yellow one! Hurry!” Maria pleas were the last thing on my mind. More dirt came down and I could hear the building crumbling over us.

“Nat?” holding onto her cheeks to make her face me. Her eyes were drifting and if I let her go her body would melt. “Shit. Nat. Wake up” Fuck. I get up, placing my arms under hers, pulling her towards the door.

“I got her” I look up and see Vision coming down. I nod. I see him carry her through the opening where everything was falling. I made sure they were gone as I ran safely past the door.

“Who has the upper hand now?” Goddamit. “ I should have done some research before targeting you. I thought you were going to be a normal person who if they are threatened they would always watch over their shoulder not involve the one and only avengers team." What kind of villain circles someone as the place is about to come down on us?

“Never did plan on it but since you literally tried to bomb me in the avengers tower, you kind of did that to yourself”

“Right now is not the time to be a smart mouth don’t you think?” He drew the gun closer to my face.

“So let me get this straight. Your boy fell for Jessica. Jessica was killed by the 3 suspects. Then your son committed sucide so you went on to kill the three suspects and Mr. Miller to cover up your tracks of revange?”

“Yes” He huffed, taking a look behind me. He lets go of the gun and starts walking away. “Now I know they won’t stop until I am captured but if you die here and I go to court for any of that, well lets just say corpses cant” He makes it to a covered door and locks it before I could stop him. Fuck. I run back to the yellow door and debris blocks the other side. What kind of ward, maze, or fucking warehouse is this?

“Y/N?” oh thank god

“Maria? How Nat?”

“Really? You are stuck underground. Mrs. Romanoff is a couple of minutes away from

the tower. Bruce is with her.”

“Thank god. Trust me I am freaking out. I don’t like being stuck in place more when its

underground.”

“You know what the good news is?” There's good news?

“My hair still look good?” I slide down the wall ready to collapse and stay there until I die

of starvation

“I can’t tell through infered but what I can tell is we have Kidd under custody and is on

the way to jail” another sigh of relief. “Are you ready to get out of there?” Before I could answer I hear a loud explosion and the hallaway I am in starts moving.

“What the hell is happening?” Please let it be an earthquake and not the ground underneath me falling.

“We cleared the ground above and now we are taking the enclosure you are in out to the surface” I could hear the container I was in hit the ground. Enclosure? What the hell am I, an animal? The sound and the smell of something burning was opposite of me. The metal rectangle opening fell, the light came through and an annoying and pissed off Tony did too.

“I should have kept you in here. Cut an opening on top and fed you like a hamster. That way you couldn’t get stupid ideas an act on them”

“Can we go home now? I did enough heroing today?” I know I didn’t help and probably interfered more than helping but I was tired and I hadn’t had anything to eat. No one got hurt and the criminal is underarrest.

“Yeah. Get in the quinjet” I smile passing by him. Never have I been so happy to touch the ground.

“You okay?” Steve says as I am walking up the ramp

“Next time I tell you to get out you do just as I say so I don’t have to come to you and have something like this happen again” I hear his slight chuckle. I take a seat and close my eyes.

“You saved Nat you know?” Lazily I open my eyes and see him kneeling infront of me. “We weren’t going to give up that easily. We have gotten into bigger messes before. As for you coming over that was a bad idea yes but if you didn’t we wouldn't have gotten to Nat in time” His smile always makes me feel better and he always knows what to say.

“Alright let's go home” Tony demands, walking into the quinjet. “And Bucky is, I would say angry at you but I don’t think that begins to cover it” Fuck! I forgot about Bucky. Fuck Bucky. Lydia. I am a horrible guardian. Leaving her alone with a guy who might have nice intentions but probably doesn’t even know how to take care of a plant. All the way I had two things on my mind. One Lydia and second Nat. When I told you I ran I ran to my room. I think all I saw was tunnel vision.

“Oh thank god” I pressed a hand over my heart seeing Lydia sleep soundly on my bed. His stare was very distinctive so when I felt a stare I knew it was him. I turn around and see him leaning with his arms crossed in the door entry. “Hey Tinman”

“Are you serious? Leaving me alone with a baby?! No. Leaving Lydia alone with me! To go to a mission that didn’t include you. That you could be injured or worse, died from!”

“Am sorry I wasn’t thinking” I walk forward tailing out the door so Lydia wouldn’t wake up. I knew saying sorry was enough when his face wasn’t angry but sad. “I understand-”

“You don’t understand anything! You could have died while under my protection! Lydia could have been harmed while I was with her. Goddamit!” I was looking at the ground like I was some little kid being screamed at by their parents. I didn’t know what to say and I guess he didn’t want to hear anything of what I was going to come up with. His footsteps moved quietly down the hall until he went into his room. The elevator dings and I see Wanda walking out.

“Everything okay?” Why did I feel a sting in my eyes? I never liked people screaming at me. But it never made tears form like this before. Not since the last time I saw my mother. “Y/N you need to understand way better than the quick story” She is right. I don’t know who Bucky is but I really do feel sorry and I have to make him believe me. “I will stay with her. Go”

“Thanks Wanda” I walked towards the door but stopped before I could try the knob. My mind was a mess or words. Every word that I think has no meaning because I am scared it's the wrong ones to use. “Bucky?” He probably hates me more than he did before now. That's why he doesn’t answer the door. Even trying to take a deep breath was a mistake. My breathing was out of order now. I turn the door thanking it for being unlocked. The lights were off but the light from outside gave me enough to see the form of the bedroom. He wasn’t in bed and the bathroom or closet door was wide open with the lights off. Where is he?

“Normally when people don’t answer the door it is because they don’t want to speak to anyone” Shit. I turned to the dark corner his voice was coming from.

“Normally people don’t seat in dark corners in their own room with the light off” Everystep I took towards him I had a bad idea in my head. What if it wasn’t Bucky? What if it was a serial killer pretending to be him? What if it was my imagination or just a dream? What if I walk into the dark corner and get sucked in a different demination?

“For someone who has a lot of thoughts in their brain, you can’t make decisions rapidly” I stop immediately after bumping into him. I kneel infront of him. I don’t hear him even flinch in the chair.

“Tinman I came here to apologise and you are making it really hard” Fuck I can’t come up with words now and that basically in my job description. But I can’t help this feeling, I don’t want to hurt him or have him hate me even more becasue I don’t know how to apologise to someone. I have never been the one to show emotion or love towards somebody. Maybe a hug and a smile with friends but never this. With Bucky it's like a connection and as stupid as it sounds I just crave him more than a physical way. Wanda always said I would find someone who would change my mind on belonging to someone. Having to give everything to them no matter the pain. To make myself vulnerable to them. I would tell her she was crazy. If I did find someone they wouldn’t rule my life. I wouldn’t be someone who would do that. I thought I was strong but with him, it just feels different. Words can’t explain that. “I am not good at apologising because I don’t do it often” I place my hands on his knees. Why? I don’t know!. His muscles tense but I can’t remove them now. “You can ask Wanda. I hardly apologise to people one because I am hardly in the wrong and two because most of the time it is something stupid. I can’t even accept and thank you because I hate feeling like I have to keep up an act of being someone they like-”

“You’re rambling” His voice was above a whisper and If he wouldn’t have moved a little I wouldn’t have quit talking to hear him talk.

“Right. Look I just want to say I am sorry for leaving Lydia with you. I should have thought it through but when I saw that the team needed help, well I bolted. I know you, Bruce, or Sam could have been of better service but it was my problem to fix. So I apologise for that. I don’t know everything,” Shit. I feel a problem coming. “I just know that I am sorry for making you feel like a danger to someone.” more a baby. “ I won’t do it again” I hope he could hear my sincerity in my voice. How can he make me feel so vulnerable? Like I want to cry because I caused him some kind of pain. I met him not even a week ago. Yet he makes me feel like we have been friends for years.

————-Maybe————

Description

You work alongside Matt and Foggy at the law firm. Of course, as one of the most successful lawyers in the city the one and only Tony Stark would recruit you. As you are trying to find a meaning of your life you find life in someone. It may be a rocky start for you two but maybe it’s worth taking.

Chapter 9:

I don’t know what time I fell asleep yesterday. With all the cries and the temperature not going down I panicked and maybe knocked myself out after her cries had stopped. Wait. Where is she? I ran out of my room and out to the main floor. “Hey. Don’t freak out she is in Bruce's lab” Why? I rush over just to come to a stop right at the door. I looked over and the clock said 10. In the morning? What the hell.

“Having a kid is like being hung over sometimes. You don’t remember something when things were rough with them the night before” Clint's words made me feel a little better. I should have stayed up and with her the whole night.

“You stayed with her the whole night” I hear Wanda’s voice beside me. “Her temperature was going down and she fell asleep. An hour or so later she started throwing up” Yeah I can remember that. That was the first time in a long time that I had frozen. After the shock and as soon as Lydia stopped throwing up I went to find Bruce. With another few throw ups and the fever coming back up Bruce told me she had an ear infection. The medicine was prescriped but I couldn't pick it up until this morning. So all last night she was awake and crying. And if she wasn’t crying she was throwin up and right after throwing up she was crying again. She didn’t even want to take her bottle. “You knocked out around 4 in the morning after she was asleep. Bucky took you to lay down”

“Has she taken her medicine?” Wanda nods. I haven’t spoken to Bucky since that night I went to apologise. Havent seen him since either. We spoke for a couple minutes before Wanda knocked on the door and said she needed to leave.

“He stayed with her since you left. The only time he left her side was when he left to pick up her medicine” Now she was feeling better. She was in Bucky’s arms eating some bananas.

“Don’t beat yourself about it. It's not like there is a rule book on how to take care of a baby. Trust me if there was one I would have been their number one fan” We laugh at Clint. “I know her grandparents are on their way but have you ever thought about keeping her?” honestly no. Lydia is a wonderful baby and I distance myself from her but I would be lying if I said she wasn’t the reason I didn’t feel alone. I only spent a full day with her and another couple but during that time she has put me in situations I felt I needed at the time.

“No. Who knows what will happen. I take the long run on this one” I open the glass door and walk towards the two. “Hey” I kneel down in-front of them as Lydia takes notice she reaches her arms out to me but Bucky hold her back

“Yeah no. It's your turn to take a shower” I moved my eyes to where he was looking and my shirt and pants had dried throw up on it. I can’t stand the smell of cheese but I could sleep through throw up being all over me?

“Fine” I roll my eyes walking out the door. “Were yall going to tell me I have throw up all over me?” I say to Clint and Wanda who were now in the kitchen island eating something. They both shake their heads laughing. I make my way over to take a shower. Took a quick 10 minute shower but I would be lying to you if I didn’t feel disgusted at the thought of smelling like throw up. I probably still smelled like it. I changed and once I walked out the door I was surprised to see the sight in front of me.

“She fell asleep right after her bottle” Lydia was fast asleep surrounded by pillows while Bucky stood at the end of the bed

“Thank you” I didn’t know what to say. So I just turned around and started packing her bag so as soon as she woke we could leave.

“Are you going to keep her?” Why does he care? Maybe he was just trying to make conversation to not make it weird and maybe I am an asshole for thinking this but he doesn’t have to be here anymore.

“I am not planning to” It’s as simple as that.

“What if the plan changes?”

“Then I guess I will deal with it then” I shrug really wanting the conversation to be over. But now that the awkward silence has me reconsidering it.

“So about that night” Fuck. Now I really want to go back to the other conversation. “I never meant to put that pressure on you. I was angry, full of rage and that was wrong on my part”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Wanda was right, you don’t accept apologies.” That made my head turn. “She said you don’t accept gratefulness or apologies. There are rare occasions when you use your manners too” oh fuck you. “And when you do, you don’t mean it”

“You got a Y/N 101 from Wanda?” I wasn’t pissed but I wasn’t happy eithier. I don’t mind people having their ideas of me, good or bad I don’t care. But when someone comes up to me and tells me in my face how I am I tend to get defensive.

“Yes. I needed to know if you were truly sorry about your apology” This asshole. “Wanda said if you apologise for something you were truly sincere” calm down. I close my eyes not wanting to do anything out of anger. How dare he go and try to find out if I was truly honest? He should have taken it up with himself to believe me or not.

“Okay” I didn’t want to start an argument with the guy.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure Tinman”

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“With you?” oh shit “I didn’t mean it that way” Fuck you. I saw him walk towards me and my body froze. My eyes are looking for an escape but I can’t come up with one.

“I haven’t been on a date in a long time, if I am being honest I am still learning about my feelings and how to deal with them” He grabs both my hands in his eyes and can’t seem to peel at the sight of it.

“Is this a new therapy thing she has you doing?” I hear a slight chuckle but he shakes his head.

“She mentioned going out with friends and before you say anything, no. When I first saw you I felt a gravitational pull towards you, and call me crazy but that was enough for me to know that in my mind we could be something other than friends” Best friends? Super friends! Get it? Because he is a super soldier? “I didn’t know how to come to you at first but if I don’t give it a try now than I might never get to it”

“Even after I caused you pain? Made you angry and tried to sabotage your orders?” I am not going to deny it made me blush. I thought after everything he would not hate me but dislike me that after the whole protecting me was over he would not even give me a second glance.

“I am willing to give it a try after all of that” that is stupid. How does he know I won’t do it again? “You had your motive behind them and I hope after getting to know eachother things will be alright.” I look up to meet his eyes. Oh honey you don’t know anything. My mind is telling me to remove my hands from his hold. Look away from his eyes. Make my heart steady to his touch. I am not one to do this with. I am no good. I will only break his and my own heart at the end. I am unstable. Maybe that is why I felt that connection with him in the first place. God knows I don’t know how to deal with my feelings either.

“Will I be responsible if things go wrong?” I was giving him a chance to run. Take back his words and hopefully only depart on a happy note. But my heart wants more. Maybe I should be brave enough like him. “I can’t promise you anything.”

“I am not asking you to promise me anything. I am just taking a risk at this” a risk. A risk is taken when you are doing something unsure, dangerous, unplanned, a ticking time bomb, like me.

“Ok”

A/N: why’s have I never seen this?!!!. So adorable.

Anyways I feel like this story is coming to an end. I don’t know if chapter ten will be the last or maybe it will be a couple more chapters but am stuck. Have no idea where to go. Maybe the story will end and I will post some chapters of the future as not part of the story like, if they get married or kids, i dont know.

Forgive Me Father

Summary// You go to church to confess your sins; only to make a few more. 

Pairing// priest!bucky x reader 

Warnings// significant undefined age gap, daddy kink, slight degradation kink.

Authors note// this is my first time posting any of my writing. I’m not the best but I look forward to hearing feedback. Reblogs are okay, just no posting without tagging me. Thanks everyone!

You normally didn’t care what you did. You partied, drank, did un-describable amounts of drugs and slept with more people than you could count. Your parents being the world’s most religious people decided you had to go to church and “repent your sins”. So that’s where you are now, driving to the local church. You remembered going a few times for Christmas ceremonies, although you never really paid attention. 

   You parked your car in the empty parking lot. Walking up to the doors, taking a deep breath not wanting to be here at all. As soon as you opened the door the sound of light gospel music filled your ears. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw the very hot priest standing over one of the pews. He hadn’t even noticed when you walked in. 

  “Excuse me?” You said in a soft voice hoping not to startle him. It did the exact opposite. He jumped with a short yell and turn around.

  “Lord have mercy you nearly gave me a heart attack young lady.” He huffed out while holding his chest. “What can I help you with darling?” He procceded. 

  “I-I..” you stutter trying to regain composure after the man stared down at you. “My parents are forcing me to repent my sins.” you meekly say. Usually you are very confident but the priest does something to you, not sure if it’s from him being so much taller than you or the fact that you now have to tell this man everything you’ve done. 

  “I see, well please come have a seat.” He points to the pew next to him. You slowly walk past him and sit down, him following suit. “Call me Bucky or Father, whatever you feel most comfortable with. And your name is?”

  “Y/n.” you say with a small smile. 

   “Okay y/n, where would you like to start?” He asks looking at you. His deep blue eyes are for sure looking straight through you right now. You slightly shift in your seat.

   “Um, there is a lot so I guess I’ll just start at the beginning. I started sneaking out and going to parties about a year ago, I constantly get drunk and do all kinds of drugs, nothing too hard obviously just the ones for having fun. I’ve slept with more people than i can even remember. Girls, guys I don’t really care.” You say looking at the floor. All you hear is a slight sigh from beside you as if Bucky is trying to comprehend everything you just spit out. 

  “So underage drinking, illegal drug use, premartial sex, homosexual acts. Sounds like you’ve got quite the list going y/n.” He says almost mockingly. You finally look up at him, hes smiling at you. “How do you expect to get rid of all your sins? Hmm?” he asks. Then he’s grabbing your chin and pulling your face closer to his. “You’ve have been such a bad little girl. And you don’t even care. You’re proud of it. Only here cause mommy and daddy are making.” he spits. 

   “Please..” you beg rubbing your thighs together just now realizing how turned on you were. I mean look at this man. His dark hair pulled up into a low bun. Dressed in black form head to toe. He’s a walking sin, how he’s a priest suprises you. He laughs at your begging. 

   “Please what y/n? You asking your priest to fuck you? Such a dirty girl. You don’t even care that I’m old enough to be your father.” He says through a smile. You’re squerming in his grasp. Just wanting some relief. He lets go of you face making you whine at the loss of contact. “Follow me.” That’s all he says before walking away from you. Following closely on his tail, he takes you to his office in the back of the church. He closes and locked the door behind you. You have no clue what you got yourself into. You don’t even know this man.

  “F-Father?” you say shyly while looking up at him with big eyes. He just goes feral. Slamming you against the door smashing your mouths together. The kiss is all teeth and pure lust. His large hands wrap around your small waist, pulling you up so your legs wrap around his waist. The slight friction from his pants rubs against your clothed core. Moaning into his mouth, hands in his hair. 

   “This what you wanted huh? Knew from the second i laid eyes on you that this was what you wanted. Can tell a little slut when i see one.” his hand travels to your jeans. He slowly pops the button. He stops there though. “Is this okay?” you nod. “Darling need you to use your words please.” he says looking you in the eyes.

   “Yes Bucky please. Just need you. Need you so bad. Please.” he cuts you off with another heated kiss proving that what you had said was enough. His hand creeps into your pants feeling how wet you actually were. 

   “Oh doll, all this for me? so fucking wet” he slurs slicking his long fingers up before plunging one into you. You moan out loudly but then cut yourself off by coverin your mouth with your hand. Only to have Bucky pull it off. “Nuh huh baby. Wanna hear how good im making you feel.” Pulling another moan from you, Bucky’s lips are then attached to your neck sucking a mark into the skin. 

“Bucky.. please more..” you whine. He pulls away from you completely. His dark eyes running along your figure.

“Strip” was the only thing he said while still taking in your body. You slowly start pulling off your shirt then slipping your jeans down your legs. Left in nothing but a matching black lace set, you stood in front of him. “Everything” he pointed to your bra and panties. Finally taking everything off, his eyes rake over your naked frame.

“What a pretty little Angel for me. Go lean over the desk.” Quickly obeying his order, you lay your body stomach down on the table. Slightly spreading you legs giving Bucky the perfect view of your dripping cunt. Before you could register what happened he slammed himself into you. Letting out a loud moan feeling his massive cock stretching you apart.

“Little slut loves when she gets fucked like a whore doesn’t she?” Thinking it was a rhetorical question you didn’t say anything. This made Bucky still within you causing you to whine. “When I speak to you, you fucking answer!” He growls in your ear as his hand wraps around your throat. That’s when it hit you, this man had a metal fucking arm. “Yes daddy, I’m a slut.”

His rhythm never failing he continued to pound into you leaving your mouth hang open for air. He suddenly flips you over so you’re on your back then slamming into you again. The new angle ripped moans from your throat as Bucky sucked hickeys into to skin on your breasts. “Fuck Angel I’m gonna cum.” He says lowly. His metal hand travels down to your clit slowly rubbing circles. You felt the coil in your stomach starting to tense.

“Bucky don’t stop please right there!!” You scream as he ruts into you harder and deeper. You’re cumming around him milking his cock. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm chasing his own. With a low grunt and a bite to the collarbone he spills into you.

After a few moments, he slowly pulls out. Mixtures of the both of your arousals leaks out of you onto his wooden desk.

Pulling your clothes back on you, notice that Bucky has left you. Dripping with his cum and leaving with more sins made than you came with.

A dreamless slumber [Bucky Barnes X GN Reader]

Summary : Bucky is suffering so much and craves for some relief

Warnings : None. Just a bit of fluff, self-hatred, fears, tears, despair and my awful English(sorry)

Words : 11k

A/N : Can we just talk about how Sebastian Stan is handsome, talented and absolutely charming? Because we are never giving half of the justice he deserves. And Happy Birthday to him, by the way. 

Everything was dark. A house. A garden. Some faded roses. An empty swimming pool full of dead leaves, sweeped by the cold wind, and a lonely chair resting here. Yet, it was a sunny day over the house. The pale light was giving a dull aspect of the elegant building which was now decaying slowly, just like nature when autumn was coming.

It was such a grim landscape. Sadness was heavy like a stifling gas in a room. Choking everything. Bucky was getting deeper and deeper into the house which has almost the size of a small but noble mansion. The living room had a white-marbled massive fireplace. Ages ago, it would have been the best place to be when a delicate snowy coat would have covered the ground and the fir trees of the garden. The glints of fire were almost visible and several fake memories of happiness hidden behind a delusional smile and a faceless silhouette embracing Bucky were appearing on front of his eyes . Dreamy, he went almost despaired when he blinked and the image vanished.

It was a happy illusion, contrasting with the gloom hanging in the room. His vision range went blurry, disturbed. Slightly, piece by piece, the living room fragmented, falling apart. Until he reached a full blackness. Bucky was feeling himself heavier while he was waiting for what's going to happen. The black-haired murderer couldn't move. Not even his metal arm. Which was making him a little bit afraid. He knew he was stuck in his brain, far from reality, and unable to have some control over it. It was this kind of lucid dreams he hated so much because it would remind him awful memories of his moves, his actions he preferred either forgotten or atoned. Although, the last option wasn't truly a possibility, considering who he was.

He reminded the scientist with glasses. Then, the other one who slapped him for a report after remembering who was Steve. All the faces and names were merging, echoing through his skull like a headache way more powerful than the usual, mixing memories all more painful than the former one. He was feeling physically the pain when they put his mind in a blender, making him a monster. Electricity coming along his muscles, the stength he used but the inefficiency of all of it while he was held back in his chair. A mental whiplash crushing his memories as if a whole contingent of soldiers armed to the teeth was marching over him, the rhythmic step hammering and crushing his bones. And death. Coldness of the Grim Reaper's scythe going down along his spine and in his veins while he was standing as a tool of the human beings' insanity and ambition.

The light illusion went in front of him as he thought having shut his eyelids. The reassuring flames of an unknown but somehow familiar setting full of gentleness and love on the couch in front of the fireplace mixing with the ghostly stir in Bucky's body was giving him one of the worst and most cruel nightmares he has ever had. A contrasting fire was blossoming in his chest, as if his insides were torn apart by his anger and uneasiness. He wanted to die. He demanded all of this stop definitely while he was almost doomed to live for an atonement when everyone wished he was dead. He would call someone to end up everything right now. He hated himself as much as he could and even more. This burning anger was causing him a headache among other things. Bucky was longing for relief, craving for embrace, affection, love– something which could let him having an opportunity to change. Obviously, he wouldn't get anything. A monster never truly stops to be a monster.

Although, during a little second, only one, in the darkness of his deepest imagination, a whisper went through the thick mist clouding his mind. Bucky found himself gazing towards the place where the soft voice was echoing. He didn't find the location, his thoughts were noisy and the image blurred during a little time. Like the flat surface of a lake disturbed by the silent roars of some dreadful deep-sea creatures. "You have to wake up" was all the calm, cristal-like voice, said as if a fairy was playing with his nerves. Several balls of fire appeared in the darkness of this endless ocean of pain. Tender imaginary moments, warmth of a home, of a friend, of an illusional lover standing in a doorframe with nothing but a smile on the only visible lips. All that formed the shape of a happiness that Bucky wasn't worthy of. The fireflies, so small at first, got bigger and bigger. So much that the black-haired man felt almost overwhelmed by so much warmth. He let his fingertips being slowly tainted by this welcomed light. Some tears escaped from Bucky who sensed his heart getting lighter and lighter as time went on. Along his skin, the welcoming and soothing heat passed through his bones, his muscles and even his metal arm became flesh. As if the soldier nevel fell down from the train.

He was feeling so good. That night terror was so cruel. Bucky craved for all of it and he knew very well he was chained to his own monstrosity. His heart was corrupted by a helpless hope which would never come true. Those repeating thoughts were digging a deeper hallow in the man's heart. He felt the salted bitter taste of his tears on his lips and his tongue.

Suddenly, something changed. Sharp as a blade cutting his skin, cold as water on his skin when diving, freezing air grasped his senses when his eyes widened in the darkness of the room where the black-haired man was sleeping in. He sat up on the mattress, sweating, seeking the truth in the half-dark landscape in front of him. His erratic breath lasted a long time before it finally calmed down. Bucky's ribcage was aching, eager to find air. And finally, the gasps ended. He toughly got back from the unconscious realm of imagination and deepest feelings.

The man was shaking, shuddering. In the end, his limits reached their furthest extremity. The delightful taste of peace broke everything. A sigh later, Bucky grasped the blankets and laid down on the bed, covering himself. Tears were still flowing down along his cheeks while he just watched vaguely at the ceiling.

The sun rised over the Avengers' headquarters. Muscles strangely aching and sore from his night, Bucky didn't feel the mood to get up. Though, he knew better than staying like a lost puppy under his blankets. He had to get up and have some practice in case he had to fight. He put some comfortable clothes. His shirt was leaving little to imagination about his metal arm and the strength the prosthesis possessed. He went straight to the training room. Silent was the master in the buildings. They all were sleeping. Eventually, Steve would join and both men could practice efficiently before breakfast. Around 5am, some might get up.

Although, Bucky wasn't expecting you, of all the people, to be awake so early in the morning. You were giving some punches to the training dummy while some music was echoing through the room. Your rhythm to beat the dummy fitted the beat of the song. You weren't conscious about the man's presence, due to your entire focus on the target of your kicks.

Suddenly, the song changed and you found yourself decreasing your pace against the poor dummy. The silence and low beating added to the singer's tone made you consider the fact that you might not be alone anymore. After a final hit on the punching bag you gazed at the trespasser in front of you.

"Hey" you greeted softly while you were stepping towards the source of music.

You switched off the device.

"Morning" was all Bucky said.

Your eyes were following the man's silhouette.

The situation was awkward. You didn't know what to say. Bucky wasn't really a talkative person but you should come up with something. Anything. Yet, you failed. You had the possibility to start with music but the man was stuck in 40's, you hadn't any knowledge about the tastes of the people from this decades. Or you also could've asked about how he was going. You had no idea on what to do.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" Bucky questioned quite brutally.

"I was wondering why you came here. You are usually not here so early" you improvised quickly.

The man surprised you. His tone was sharp like a blade and even though you didn't know each other pretty well, it doesn't prevent that you remained cordial. He killed Tony's parents after all. He doesn't have any right to speak this way to an Avenger.

"I've had a bad night" Bucky mumbled at a very low volume.

Your gaze softened a little. Yet, you had no idea on what you should say. You know how it felt, and you didn't manage to sleep well last night either. Something troubled you and you had to handle it with your powers. That was so annoying. The identification of your target came too late and someone somewhere must have felt a sudden relaxing during a particularly resonating nightmare. You weren't able to even say who could've receive all these soothing waves of powers you sent via your own imagination. That was all a thing but developing your story background was pointless. You were a threat only leashed by your agreement done with Tony Stark years ago when you corrupt most of the Avengers' mind and almost destroyed them. You found a comfortable nest in the tower, then the compound. Everything fine since this moment. And your favorite sparring partner was undoubtedly Wanda, mostly because of the similarities lying in your powers. After all, it is always easier to get along with the same kind of monstrosity as your own. The sole difference between you was the fact that she accepted herself a bit easier than you. But all this was only detail.

The Winter Soldier embodied by Bucky was now turning towards a punching bag next to your own. He slightly pulled up his arm and put himself on the position of beating the target in front of him. He only made a swift movement. The strength he had set into his arm bursted out the metal chain which was keeping the inanimated training device hanging in the air.

You stared at the poor object lying, completely demolished, next to the impact he created in the wall.

"Poor thing" you commented, feeling sincerely sorry for the bag which never asked for such a punch.

You turned your back to Bucky and carried on the little fight that you had before the man's arrival. You sensed his gaze upon you more than once but couldn't have cared less. You were too busy and deaf thank to the headphones you were now wearing. A little less than a hour later, you left the training room and headed toward your shower. Once it has been done, you went in the kitchen and started to prepare some breakfast. You planned to go outside this day, with Tony's agreement. It was sad but it was also the rule. You remain a monster for most. But this is it. There's nothing to discuss, as displeasing as it sounds.

The faces of your 'roommates' started to appear some short minutes after you went in the kitchen. Clint came to help you. He couldn't prevent himself to make some jokes about how you used your telekinesis as one of the most useful tool ever. Even the deadly, black, scary hands coming from out of nowhere were an amazing help for any sort of tasks. Even though they were quite dread.

Steve, Natasha, Sam, Tony... All of the people came one by one. That was quite funny to see their sleepy faces. You took a very quick breakfast, hardly an apple or whatever, and headed down the compound.

"Why is Y/N such in a hurry?" asked Steve when he noticed your disappearance at lightning speed.

"They got the necessary approval to go outside today. With, of course, being constantly tracked and everything clear about what they do and the places they go." Tony replied with an empty tone, he didn't like these creepy decisions about you.

The latter didn't want you to live in a prison. And yet, this is what he had to do. At this, point, keeping you in a lost hole would have been more legitimate. You weren't causing enough harm to be submitted to the chains of the worst cages ever constructed it seems.

"Natasha will have to keep an eye on them." the genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist completed.

"It sounds that you have to worry a little then. Because there's no more signal." Clint countered when he checked over Natasha's shoulder on the screen the plan of the cities around and your supposed geographical position.

Your powers granted you to cover a vast field when you used them to fly, as Wanda could have done. You had the silhouette of a huge bird, maybe like a condor, or even bigger. Your so-called wings were made of your orange energy, mixed to a 'spell' allowing you to overfly the grim world you existed in. Once you get down on earth, hidden in a dirty alley between uneven and crumbling buildings in the dangerous and somehow most remote places of New York City, you just went here and there. Your main idea was to enjoy life as you would have done if you weren't kept jailed in the compound because of these stupid powers of yours. All of this was delightful. A bitter taste suddenly invaded your mouth and your whole being while you figured out how it would have been without taking your fair part in the Avengers' stuff.

You joined the biggest shopping malls very easily and quickly. And you felt so free here. Surrounded by the noisy streets of NYC that a lot of people judged unsufferable. It was definitely not your opinion. Silence was sometimes even more traumatic and breaking than any scream. And it was a grey day today, matching with the sky's desire to let drop the rain, as a sort of release of pressure. You loved the hues of the clouds today. You didn't care about the rain.

Midday came sadly too soon. Plus, strangely, the tracker you crushed between your fingers even before having left the compound didn't result in a panic coming from Tony who wouldn't know where you were. Not that seeing the powerful and very composed Iron Man completely out of control because of such a small detail wouldn't be funny as hell. You enjoyed your afternoon while listening to a street musician. He was playing saxophone. The gentle and entertaining tone of the instrument made you release some waves of your power, influencing people's minds and unconsciously getting them to dance with more or less talent in the street as if it was the most normal thing ever.

You ended your day by wandering through Central Park accompanied with those grey squirrels way too much friendly for your taste. You didn't want to get back to the Avergers' headquarters. It was too soon. Your day of freedom was already over and you couldn't stand it. That was beyond yourself. Returning in this endless custody was too hard, freedom had such a sweet and addictive taste.

The night started to fell down, slowly. Your time was really over. You found a bench while you were still wandering around Central Park. The Avenue, you didn't know which one and you had no care about this detail, had calmed down. It was more silent, even though cars were still present and their headlights were now shining through the settling darkness. Beautiful black and deep blue clouds, epitomizing the God's anger, were gathering again. More menacing this time. You enjoyed the moment when the glass broke somehow, when a twisted lightning bolt would make the shape of an arc across the New York covered sky. You sheltered yourself under an umbrella of compressed air where the rain slipped through. You liked the song, like some fairies' laugh. So comfortable. You could have cried.

Yet, you found yourself torn from the illusion. It was so beautiful. But the responsible for this wasn't so worthy of scorn. A little ball of fur lingered under your legs, a safe place apparently. A cute little puppy was giving you a sad look while shaking due to the sudden invading coldness. You took the little animal between your hands. You were only able to see him thank to a lamp post pegged next to that very bench. Even with a visible fear, the puppy left you take him against your chest. Whether it was a cat, the little animal would have loudly purred. You could feel the high contentment of the little dog. He was so sweet, so cute and sheltered in an energy bubble, not outside in the tempest and under the danger of flying branch due to strong winds.

You take a lot of time petting the animal. You could tell he was happy, mostly because of his unceasing nuzzle in your arms. You were smiling. Then, you straightened up your posture. Cold and penetratring rain was now dropping. The yellow light of the lamp post lit a circle barely five meters large around you. Your shield was enough, yet you couldn't figure out about the person observing you. It may be Hydra. Or anyone else. Still, something dangerous was moving, protected by shadows. You carried on your petting over the puppy's head. He wasn't even moving an ear, deeply asleep as he was.

You unleashed an orange wave shaped as a circle. The trespasser dodged it. "Fine" you thought. You left the little puppy on the bench, protected under the energy bubble and went under the freezing drizzle.

"Come here if you dare. Coward." you provoked with a dry and careless tone.

Though, whether you would have been that foolish, you wouldn't have come here with no possibility to win. You felt a quick movement behind you. A move in the air which came till you but nothing to make you fear anything. He or she or whatever is the person, they were still swift, nimble and particularly bold to attack you from behind. You used your powers and created some orange arrows. One of them them exploded in the torso of this so-called killer. You let yourself be distracted a second about the assailant's identity. Who would be foolish enough? This time, you didn't feel the punch coming from the side and you manage to dodge it at the very last second. A kick went right after, sending your unbalanced body hit the lamp post several meters away. The ground was dirty and wet due to the rain. You mumbled several insults while you got up yet another blow came to you. Although, you had just the time to create an energy shield, stopping the move. The person you could identify right now as a man carried on to hit you again and again. Nevertheless, you were sheltered, protected. You had the time to form a real spell in your hand and throw it over the aggressor, making him still and controlled.

Air was twirling around you, as freezing as before, as paralysing as chains. A little bit more and you could've found yourself back in Sokovia. Several leaves danced and followed the wind's moves. Some philosophers would have found inspiration in this if some words originated from a foreign language that you recognized as Russian didn't have echoed there. The man you were holding with your energy was now on rampage. As if he was somehow reactivated, like a robot or some machine, trying to do some brutal movements so as to free himself. He wasn't going to leave so easily anyways. Following the sound, you created a ball in your hand then modified its shape for a sword. You sort of influenced the weapon you were making. Hence, in the grand alley in front of you, you unleashed the orange energy-made saber chased the voice all around you. After, no time you heard some screams of panic, an explosion of medium size due to the energy sword and finally a bigger one corresponding to some helicopter or whatever. You didn't care for it in the end.

You felt your cell phone ring in your pocket. An incoming call from Steve.

"Y/N where have you been?" said the crackling voice.

"I'm near Central Park."you replied with a low tone, full of wariness.

"There's some Hydra agent out there. Be careful. And Bucky fled from the compound" the man continued.

You couldn't help yourself but to release a mocking laugh.

"Too late, Cap."you ended there the talk.

You went ahead in front of Bucky who was watching you with a deadly look in his eyes. It is when you reached out your hand to touch him that he almost freed himself and tried to throttle you.

"Calm down, Barnes." you ordered to the man who didn't come to a standstill.

Talking to him wasn't enough it appeared. Not without fighting when he was in this internal distress. You were able to hear his screams inside of him, aching to come back to his senses. You strengthened the grasp of your energy around his wrists and his shoulders, getting him completely still under your control. You cupped his face and forced him to gaze into your eyes while you were looking for his real self. His soul was buried deep in his mind. You found interesting memories here and there. Torture were the most powerful ones. There was also a young man resembling Steve. You couldn't help but laugh. He was so small. You may not say to the powerful Captain America that he was ridiculously cute when he was younger. Though Wanda could be interested in the mental image you got. You searched deeper and deeper, kind of probing, Bucky's soul.

You suddenly felt a sort of globe when you were sailing into the ocean of the man's life. Or at least, what he remembered. The painful and unwanted murders he had perpetrated against those people who didn't deserve to die. You knew very well how to control someone's muscles, even someone's mind, due to your powers. Yet, breaking the spirit, the moral and making a weapon of a being, even if you were also able to do it, was something you never committed to anyone. Yet, the person's who managed to destroy Bucky's soul the way they did was particularly vicious. To recover from it was almost impossible without help and a safe place to stay as a start. No one could say that the compound was. Tony's resentment was still present and the former Winter Soldier didn't have the right to struggle against it. The latter should say that the one who hated him the most was himself for having killed Tony's parents, as well for every of his targets. He hated himself for all the mothers and fathers he made cry, every family he destroyed, every wife, husband, child he ruined the heart.

You would like to say it wasn't his fault, he was a puppet, that people's judgement was unfair. Then, you felt something in Bucky's body. He was waking up somehow. You withdrew from his mind and release the soul glancing you were giving him. The man's muscles relaxed brutally and he fell down on the wet ground. The rain might have stopped since a certain time now. But your clothes were drenched and Bucky's ones could be very uncomfortable now.

"What happened?" the man asked while he was slowly getting up.

On your left, you heard footsteps echoing on the tar. Soft. Rhythmed. Almost military. It was Steve for sure, certainly wearing his Captain America outfit. Sam was following him.

"Are you alright Bucky?" questioned the blond-haired man.

You frowned a little bit when you heard the interrogation. And you ? You were the one attacked ans still he was more interested in the well-being of this snowy cretin more than yours. You displayed loudly your dissatisfaction and turn your back to move towards the bench where the little puppy was still peacefully sleeping. You took the animal between your arms after checking he wasn't belonging to someone with a collar or something. Then, you opened your energy wings which took you off the ground. You landed only several minutes after in the compound. Natasha, Wanda, Rhodey, Vision and Tony were discussing in the living room while, as you supposed, waiting for you in the building. You didn't care about them and brought your little abandoned puppy into your room. Tony tried to talk to you but upset as you were you didn't give him a glance. You shouldn't care about Steve being worried about Bucky, as you've seen in his mind, they were close friends. Although, you have been an Avenger for a longer time than the Winter Soldier. These Sokovia agreements –or you didn't know what their were and you didn't give a shit about that– weakened enough your team. Choosing between Steve and Tony has been hard and in the end, you didn't get the freedom you hoped. It was barely worth the struggle.

You heard the door closing behind you while Tony was trying to catch you up, keeping the man outside of the room. You used your powers to create a little dog bed with extra blankets and left the puppy inside, as if he was in a nest. You asked to the artificial intelligence to order some dog food adapted for your new friend. And so did the God knows how was called the voice upon your head. You put your pyjamas on and went to bed. It was nearly 2 in the morning and you wouldn't spit on some rest. You fell asleep thinking about the scars left by this war among the Avengers.

You woke up earlier than you would have liked if a furry, troublesome, awfully cute little wasn't licking your face. You couldn't help but freaked, straightening up suddenly under your blankets. It was 6am.

"Gosh..." you whispered while you tried to hide from the puppy's display of love.

Then, you reached the animal and pulled him up against you. You didn't think that what wanted this creature would be your touch, considering the way the animal was clinging to you. It didn't bother you. Most likely the contrary. Right now might be the time to give him a name. However, you had no idea on what could be adapted for such a cutie. He was all black. 'Kuro' might be an interesting option. You would see later.

You had to get up and go practicing on hand-to-hand combat. But this morning, you were accompanied by a sweet little puppy. Its legs were so short due to his young age and must running to catch you up on your way. The compound remained silent. Everyone was still sleeping, which definitely was a nice considering what happened last night. On one hand, your disobedience to the Sokovia agreements, refusing to comply to these stupid rules. On the other hand, the fight with Bucky would be debated. You didn't crave to spend your days in a jail in the middle of the Pacific Ocean or God-knows-where.

You reached soon enough the door leading to the training room. You left the bag of equipment you brought and your little puppy climbed on the bench where all your stuff was more or less unpacked. The animal tilted his head to the side, watching you with great interest. It didn't take a lot of time before the little creature lied down upon the seat and sleep peacefully, catching up all the sleep he needed. You turned your back to the puppy and went towards the punching back in front of you. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw the black figure of Bucky meaning back against the wall. You didn't know he had that in him. That was so scary. Besides, the thought of not managing to stop the waves of energy running in your blood was another source of wariness. You spent a certain time trying to figure out what was happening inside of the man's head but he remained as shut as a nutshell. Which appeared displeasing to say the least.

His gaze was hidden behind his long locks of hair. His breathing was not heavy but a bit loud. Was he present here for long? You couldn't say. You were as stuck as the last time. What should be the right words? Not saying anything may be the best thing to do among all the possibilities. In reaction to this thought, you lowered your head a bit and then walked to the punching bag waiting for your attention. You hadn't started for a minute that Bucky was next to you, so close you could've sword he was your shadow. Even though he remained at a very reasonable distance from you.

"You should keep your arm a little higher or you would have it broken in a real fight" Bucky abruptly said to you across the room.

You have been a bit startled by the tone he used, attracting your attention over him.

"What do you want, Winter Soldier?" you asked with neutrality.

"Don't call me that way. I'm no longer a killer under Hydra's orders" he countered with an annoyed sigh.

You looked at him during a certain moment. Not saying anything and studying every of his facial traits. He wouldn't lie anyway.

"This doesn't resemble to what I've seen last night" you replied more severely.

"I..." the man started but he didn't carry on.

He glanced at you a long time. A very long time.

"I am sorry. For what I've done last night. This... This wasn't me and I know..."

Bucky was hesitating, looking for his words. Though, every phrase, every syllab seemed wrong and clumsy to him. He eyes were stuck on the ground.

" 'I shouldn't be alive', 'I'm a monster' . 'Tis all what you have been thinking about for three minutes now." you uttered while giving a voice to your interlocutor's thoughts.

These last sentences didn't make the man move in any way. Pretty strange, wasn't it? His silence was more eloquent than the longest speech and truth sharper than a blade. For the very first time since the day you met, you stepped closer to him. Not that you were keeping yourself at bay from him but it was more on the emotional side. You knew perfectly that you were alike on some points. Not the same and yet not completely different either. As if you were watching your appearance in a mirror. But the reflect was troubled, disturbed, somehow betrayed, by the prism of self-consideration.

You left a long sigh escape your mouth and decided to focus on the punching bag.

"What did you say already? My arm should be higher, is that right?" you inquired and with it, the end of the small discussion.

You felt Bucky coming closer to you and he gently changed the position of your arm while showing you a good posture for a hand-to-hand combat. You swiftly thanked him, so quickly that the man didn't think he heard it correctly. No one has ever been grateful to him, except when he was doing his job as the Winter Soldier. Needless to say it was shady to say the least. He gave you some advices when it came to a fight with punches and kicks. You haven't thought about breakfast only a second. The time you spent in each other's company had been really helpful, particularly because of everything you learnt today. It was nice to talk to someone and to know more about anything. Your appetite for knowledge was stunning sometimes. Your practice session ended when Steve stepping in the room, stumbling on you both while Bucky was holding your arm after you tried to punch him in the face.

"Was a good one Y/N." The man stated before noticing his old friend from the corner of his eye.

He let you go slowly after allowing your arm to get down without hurting you. Your muscle had relaxed and Bucky's grip loosened on your wrist. His metal arm left some red markings in your flesh but nothing you weren't able to handle. It was part of the risks of training with the Winter Soldier after all. You gathered all your stuff, took Kuro with you and passed to Steve's side before showering. Everyone had their breakfast, you were the only ones who missed it. It seems that Vision made it, which wasn't reassuring considering the fact that he is actually a robot which never had the sense of taste. Your only hope remained in the fact that he often watched you cook or bake for the others. In the end, it wasn't that bad.

The sudden and amusing image of Vision walking through the wall of your bedroom to ask you what was the means to bring back memories flashed through your mind. Also, his frown had to be considered as iconic when you explained the concept of Proust's madeleine. This is how he got the idea of goulash for Wanda. Scents and dishes had the power to bring back memories and used it as a means to remind Wanda's past, her family and all she cared for. Even though you had no doubt that she cared for Vision too.

You swallowed quickly your breakfast and went in your bedroom as soon as you finished. You had to practice with your energy too. Its shapes, the range of your attacks and different parameters that no science could predict. You considered rapidly Kuro's presence in your surroundings, currently lying on your bed. The little animal has already been fed since he was now wandering in the compound. Everyone has met the new recruit on your team. Tony didn't agree at first but he finally ended by petting this lovely furry creature. It was quite the sight, his big hands on the puppy's head while he was doing some stuff and checking some things before the afternoon meeting which had the aim to discuss about the day before.

You weren't that afraid, you knew very well what to say in your defence. It wouldn't be the same for Bucky, for all you cared. You stayed here until after midday and the artificial intelligence commanded by Tony reminded you this meeting. Thus, you left your beloved room and joined the other. You sat next to Rhodey and Natasha, more likely circled by them but who cared? Noticing the man who will lead this encounter, the same who presented you the Sokovia agreements, some Secretary of State or whatever.

He displayed a tiresome soliloquy about the fact that you didn't respect the rules you had to follow whatever it takes. And yet, Tony may have countered with the fact that you did everything according what they desired by asking officially an outing. As if you were a prisoner. That was right, you weren't back when the hour came. And if you hadn't been here, Hydra would have been troublesome. What they could have done was not predictable at all and the consequences can excuse your neglect.

Tony's voice was unsure and the old man didn't seem to accept it.

"I can understand it was for the common good but still, what should I say to UNO, to the people, to..." the man was arguing with a fake resolving tone.

"Tell me, mister Secretary of State, or whatever is your role, don't you think it is a bit hypocrite to make such statements?" you asked rhethorically while gazing at your interlocutor.

"No, Y/N. Don't make this worse." Tony warned behind but you hushed him with your powers.

"We've already done worse. Wasn't it a sufficient failure to fight our own allies, fighters and above all friends? How could we beat our own score on the field of nonsense?" you snapped back with an authoritative and unusual volume of voice.

You glanced at each of the people gathered in the room while standing, but this has been an action that no one cared about. Everyone received its glimpse of scorn until you have been tired of. Maybe this could make them think a little bit about themselves. You turned your back and faced now the tall, impressive, more or less charismatic man in front of you.

"As for you, and not only for you but for all these UNO men and and women working in, you are spitting, criticizing tyrants to oppress people. And yet, what are you doing with us? Do you feel safer now that you locked us up like dogs with muzzle? Does this world is clearer, less dangerous? Or more opaque, somber and unreadable?" you snidely stated with a voice full of hidden anger and frustration.

"What should be said about the people you sacrificed then? For your successes"

"If it's about sacrifice that we are going to argue, so let me tell you once for all that the first ones who are going to do it, before folks or anyone, are the guys behind me. Something you never liked to hear mister the Secretary of State. By the way, what did you sacrificed to get yourself to the place you bear now as if you were a supreme authority while you are nothing more than a simple spokesperson for something greater than you? "

"As long as I remember, no one ever called you here, Y/N"

"You know, if dogs could choose their master, if they knew what it involved, none of them would be so faithful. Despite everything, I've chosen to help here because I still have an idea of what is justice, right and wrong. And not because a carrier was demanding it, mister the Secretary of State."

You ended there the conversation. Meanwhile you were hammering your opinion inside your interlocutor's head, and crushing any potentiel reply he could have given to you. The man lowered his head and noticed the danger of you being so close to him. He stepped backwards, making you stop in your own path.

"Well..." the Secretary of State tried before forsaking the idea of saying anything else.

Everything has already been said. What he could leave to you was a mere warning. Then, few minutes of meaningless babbling after, he gathered his people before giving some extra information and left as quickly as he came. Bucky's case hasn't even been evoked through this meeting. Was it a big issue? Not that much and you felt him grateful.

"You can be really threatening when someone annoys you." Steve stated kindly after the release of pressure within the compound.

The latter was delighted that you shushed the Secretary of State or whatever this guy was. May he report the meeting to his mates with ties and expensive costumes, you didn't care. You weren't afraid of the decisions that could be taken about you. It needed more to impress you.

The compound got back to its usual calm and quietness. Nothing bothered you anymore. You spent some time with Wanda who thanked for saying all you said to the Secretary of State. Even though with the tone you used to talk to him. Your bitterness and the emotions you put in your speech addressed to this grey-haires old man. However, you apologized towards your new leader for the issues he would face but you assumed it would go very well. The one who would rightfully claim he shushed the great Tony Stark wasn't born.

You chose a book among all you had in your shelves and started to read. It was Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, you didn't know that you had a copy here. You were fully captivated by the story when you noticed the night befell on the world outside. Vision came quickly to ask you if you were hungry and he got a negative answer. Though, he remained insistent on the fact that you should make an appearance in the living room for the movie tonight. They picked a bad one though, making you completely uninterested in the images shifting devoid of any meaning on the screen. You heard the thoughts of each Avenger and according to their internal remarks about what was happening in front of their eyes, you could say there was nothing exhilarating in this same feature film. You understood something about a documentary about beavers that could have been more enlightening according to Sam. Well, he didn't phrase it that way in his head but the idea remains the same. You just came in the lounge at the climax of the film and then disappeared again.

It is nearly 1am that it occurred that you didn't see Kuro in your room, which was definitely suspicious. Wearing your pyjamas at this hour of the night, you went down the stairs to find your little puppy. The ground was cold and your bare feet didn't make any sound. Yet, once you reached the possible location where your dog could rest peacefully, you found quite a sight actually. It was notoriously know after all that this furry ball named Kuro was sleeping nearly half of the day wherever he can be, meaning he would me more than happy to sleep in a cage full of starving lions.

"I can't sleep, Steve." Bucky said with an empty voice, almost cracking sometimes.

"Nightmares, right ?" the blond-haired man replied with a benevolent look in his eyes.

The first was petting carefully the puppy you were looking for.

"I can't even trust my mind when I'm awake. What should I do if I kill people while I'm asleep? What will stop me? "

Steve would like to say something but still, he wasn't able to answer the right thing to his friend.

"Maybe you should ask Y/N. They know a lot about mind control and all."

The suggestion wasn't devoid of good sense and the black-haired man had to admit that he had never thought about it. Requesting an advice and some help, even though it was only for sleeping never crossed his mind. And he may also lack of confidence when it comes to his weaknesses. He might want to be able to handle by himself.

"You're not alone, Buck" Steve ended with a gentle on his friend's shoulder.

Thereupon, you noticed your former leader getting up from the couch and left the Winter Soldier as he was taken far from reality by his invasive thoughts. He was petting Kuro very kindly and the puppy was resting peacefully in his arms. He didn't feel your presence nor sitting next to him, making him jump out of his skin. He managed to suppress his deadly reflexes at the last second.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you" You apologized with a low tone.

Bucky shook his head rapidly. His eyesight was anchored to the ground, refusing to let go the detail that was catching so well his attention. His hand was petting mechanically your peaceful puppy.

"Are you alright?" you warily asked with a kind and unusual voice.

"I... I don't know..."Bucky mumbled while he pulled away his attention from the tile square he had his eyes locked on.

You saw him turn his head and gaze at you with a heartbraking despair and confusion, tears glinting in the corner of his eyes. Yet, he blinked. Chasing this poor view he was making of himself from your sight. You didn't mind. Having a smashed mind due to the torture, or suffering an attempt, was a harsh ordeal to overcome, mostly because of all the psychological consequences. And so did Bucky undergo since he broke free.

"You're afraid to unleash the Winter Soldier while you sleep, aren't you?"

The man nodded quietly. What could he add? This was the truth he was scared to death to kill more people. He was already fighting the dark waves of guilt in his heart, his effort couldn't be reduced to ashes and dust because of that monster slumbering within his head, equally part of himself as Bucky. He feared he would never get rid of this monster inside his head.

You lankily sighed and reached out your hand to leave a gentle tap on the man's shoulder. It was quite unusual for you to express such friendliness but, still, Bucky needed it. You saw his lip curl upwards when he looked at you. Fake or true, you never knew. Maybe both.

"This is not because you stop to sleep that you'll get any better. On the contrary, dwelling and not resting will make you increase your chances to lose control over yourself."you warned with a sharp tone, you wanted this to be engraved on Bucky's mind.

"Then what? What could I do when these fucking nightmares scare the shit out of me?" the man exclaimed with a barely controlled voice.

"Guilt consumes you. That's the reason why you don't allow yourself to sleep at night. You think you haven't the right to rest. Is that's wrong?"

Bucky couldn't move. The paralyzing truth froze his bones, disgust and self-hatred suddenly running in his veins. He didn't feel worthy to close his eyes and just have some rest, even for a couple of hours. The more he dwells, the more he was risking to kill someone, being out of control. You noticed him nod to your statement.

"If it is only about nightmares. I can do something about that."you proposed quietly.

Bucky glanced at you, a glint of hope lighting his face marked with suffering.

"You can do that?" asked obliviously Bucky.

"I've also heard the end of the conversation you had with Steve."

The man got a strange look in his eyes. What was he thinking about? You didn't know. You could answer this question but it wasn't your intention. Then, you gave up the idea and focused on the task at hand.

"Anyways, do you want me to use my powers?" you inquired with a pressing tone.

And once more, Bucky nodded. You requested from him to close his eyes and just breath lankily. So he did and while he was getting calmer and calmer then fully relaxed by the waves of your power. You approached your hand to his eyes and the orange energy shaping a ball released a hypnotic music within Bucky's mind and a short minute after his head fell on the back of the sofa. His muscles fully eased. Thus, you used your telekinesis and lifted the man until his room. He was almost cute, all happy with your puppy on his torso. He wouldn't have any dream nor nightmare. You suppressed his ability of imagination for several hours. Then, he would get it back and lightly getting up from the limbo of the deepest and most peaceful slumber. Folding down the blankets, you left your puppy and the man having some rest. They both seem delighted, though it was most visible on Kuro the dog spread out all along its length over the bed next to the man. The door shut behind you and you left to join your own bedroom. Numbing Bucky's imagination was more tiring than you would have thought but the Winter Soldier wouldn't show up. All in all, it was a small victory.

You didn't wake up when dawn had come to the compound. Your energy was a bit drained and your own rest has been more tiresome than really relaxing. However, it was the risk you accepted when you offered to help Bucky. And then, after a short night and the call from Friday to got up more or less easily. Watching you in the mirror had been a hardship, you barely recognizes yourself. You took some time to erase the markings from your tiredness and then, you went to take your breakfast. Clint said that he got the authorization to go back in his family and he was really excited to be able to finally see his wife and children.

"Sorry guys but I won't make you breakfast anymore" the archer joked with a singular glint of mischief in his eyes.

You smiled at him while Wanda was congratulating him cheerfully. And the others were all giving him warm comments and expressing their happiness for him. It seemed that Tony was personally insulted by this departure. As if the Avengers were torn apart again. You saw in his mind that he remembered when he fought against Steve but this image was blurred by a sweet filter of friendship for the warrior. The question of where was Bucky has been quickly raised. You remembered that the spell you used on him was still clouding his mind. You excused yourself and left the table to find the man in his room. Kuro was licking the man's face but nothing was efficient enough to pull him from the calm slumber. Thus, you approached your hand to his forehead and with a wave of energy you brought him to reality. It didn't take long before his eyelids would open and he could remember the world he was in.

"What...?" Bucky asked, his voice hoarse and a very eloquent red trace on his cheek.

"Hello." you greeted with a gentle tone.

"I..."Bucky started to say.

He wanted to ask if five minutes had passed since you employed that spell of yours. He remembered clearly asking you to use your magic or whatever you called your powers and then, he didn't know. His muscles were so relaxed, he was so calm. No dreams, no nightmares. A peaceful sleep. He desired it so much and he had it. No pain, no suffering, no memories –

Everything was okay. He couldn't help but a small smile curled his lips upwards, making his face glow with a charming aura. For a second, you felt that Bucky didn't have his guts tightening and tied in knots he couldn't unravel without being injured somehow. On the contrary, he sensed his heart being free and in peace. You made your way to the door and left there the man. He got up from his bed and caught up the discussion about Clint and his family five minutes later.

You spent the day trying to restore the energy you used on Bucky to numb his subconscious. It wasn't so easy though. You didn't pay a visit to the training room. Steve and Natasha were undoubtedly practicing right now. You didn't want to interrupt and your reflexes were altered by the way. Not being at the highest level of reflexion, reaction and everything alike was just a huge hallway to an injury. So you stayed far away from the room. You were watching Vision studying Kuro very closely, making Wanda smile and laugh. You were slightly worried for the puppy but the robot kept a very careful behavior towards the small and curious creature. By the way, the woman taught to Vision how to pet the puppy. You could see them delighted to experience something really common for a lot of people.

You were so lost in your contemplation of them that you didn't hear Bucky sitting next to you on the couch. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed him. You scowled him a little for being so silent and not warning you. A grin took its place on his facial traits and you swore internally you would kill him if he remained so glad to have scared you. Though, when he perceived your annoyed glance, his small smile fell down his face and he became more concerned by what you were going to say. Then, he stared at the ground and remained quiet for a minute.

"I... Wanted to thank you" Bucky voiced out, his cheeks slightly reddening. "I don't know what I could have done if you weren't there"

"You were hopeless, anxious and blathering nonsense. No need to be grateful. I did what I thought was right." you replied with an empty tone, as if your own words had no impact on yourself first, even though it was a lie because you were obviously happy about that.

A little bit of thankfulness for a monster such as yourself according to your own judgement was always delighting. You had no intention to say anything about it to Bucky however. A comfortable silence filled the space around you. Wanda and Vision took your puppy and went to play with him elsewhere. In the meantime, the Winter Soldier's eyes were stuck on your gaze, scrutinizing you where a not so long distance was separating you both. You could notice he was refraining from saying anything which might be inappropriate. You couldn't figure out what, though.

"Is there something you may want to ask me?" You inquired with a strangely gentle tone.

Bucky took some time to think about it. You noticed only now that he was particularly cautious around you, and with his words too. Having a completely different way to talk with you, in comparison of how he could speak with Steve. The best behavior to have in your presence.

"Can mind control be cured?" he questioned with a weird politeness. Not that it wasn't pleasing but it looked fake. His way to talk in old American English from the Brooklyn of the 40's felt natural coming from him. Not this Loki-like way to speak. You almost corrected it for that but it wasn't necessary.

“It’s not that easy but the effects can be limited, a broken mind leaves inevitably scars.” you added thoughtfully, brows furrowed trying to get the best answer to Bucky’s worries. “And a stable spirit in a stable body isn’t devoid of interest when it comes to this matter.”

The warning was clear and sharp, no more stupid ideas such as being deliberately deprived of rest. Despair and helplessness don’t mean recklessness. Your former sentence rang surely a bell within Bucky, making him flustered for such impatience to cause his own ruin. He should say he was sorry, though, what effect it would have? Other than an unwanted pity over him and a descent of the esteem that you did not have for him in the first place. Bucky thought you disliked him at best, loathed him at worst for the split among the Avengers and their reasons to fight. He should know better after the argument you had the day before. Humans were humans, even with powers beyond the common man.

“Meaning that you can heal me?” inquired Bucky while his eyes lit up.

“Did you listen to what I’ve just said?” you replied with a sharp tone.

It seemed that sleeping was raising a certain eargerness in Bucky. Not that it was disturbing actually, dealing with the Avengers also meant learning patience. You sighed lankily while you summoned a ball of orange light to test the energy left to recover in you. It would be adequate to you need of it for attempting aything on Bucky’s mind. You were simply accelerating the healing process. What was left after that was the man’s issue. Though, not only did the man had to tackle with the significance of your powers in him, but also with potential deadly aftereffects. It didn’t appear that it scared him. Quite the contrary actually. He responded with a sad look that he already was already tortured by these nightmares or memories and whatever could threaten him in his own mind, it wouldn’t be worse than what he was suffering. You didn’t agree with this last statement, objecting that it might not be what he needs.

Sincerely convinced, equally fostered somehow by what he discussed with Steve last night about your area of expertise and the skills you got after years of practice, he asked you to help. Under this condition, you would be ashamed to refuse him anything. You asked him to lie down on the couch and ordered him to close his eyes. Getting your hand circling over Bucky’s face while his eyes were open, turning more orange each second passing and then, the man tipped over into another world full of images without links between them except that they were known to him. You found another memories, slightly different from the day before, almost shifting and blurry. You figured out it was your presence. His emotions followed one another. It was quite intriguing to feel sadness then hope, anger, despair, hatred. Along your thorough expertise, you never found any peace, relief or authorization to slow down the rythm. Only raw sentiments, basic ones, almost shady, tainted of dark hues, ones which could never be lighter and closer to happiness.

You perceived Bucky flinch and shake a little when you reached a particular area of his mind. The illusion was darker, shifting. Delusions were how you worked to get the informations you needed, by creating a whole dimension within people but it wasn’t the point. The shape of what you had in front of you did not have any. More like a black hole, infinitely deep and heavy. Beyond a certain line, you could harm Bucky. Yet, you felt something beating here, like a heart or something. It didn’t have any shape, or you may not be able to give one to it. Was it literally the Winter Soldier? Or was it where the heart of Bucky was trapped somehow? You could not say, nor identify it. This was quite the infuriating puzzle but an interesting challenge nonetheless. You felt be withdrawn without your consent. Bucky was somehow waking up.

Then, you returned to reality and described what you saw. Bucky found himself clueless, you were the one with the talent. What you couldn’t say was that you were as lost as him. However, it was quite logical to consider it wasn’t such an issue after one session. And then you started a conversation about what you saw, asking for more details. You couldn’t say that the sight of a smaller Steve before becoming Captain America amazed you a second time. And you laughed about it. And some other things related to Hydra and Zemo among other things. He also told him some stories which happened during the WWII that no one talks about. There were also the fights and the opponents. He also describe the Brooklyn of the 40′s. Even though you watched it as if you were in Bucky’s place when women were interested in him. Not that it wasn’t the case these last days but he had enough to think about.

You found yourself getting closer to the man and it wasn’t the plan at the start. What you weren’t prepared to know is that since you were wandering within Bucky’s memories and all, he did it to you too. Accidentally. And he asked you about some of your loved ones that it hurt you to mention. Yet, since you will have to know your colleague and his darkest sides, you had to uncover some of yours too. Trust was the basis of the weak relashionship you solely had to have. And the more sessions went, the more you found some tenders sides in Bucky. Those were particularly hidden. The most treasured memories. If before it was only raw emotions you felt, right now they are a clearer shape and more details such as the twisting of Bucky’s guts when it came to Steve, the sentiment of failure coupled with a stronger one of confusion when he was punching the latter in the face or the despair. You sensed the emptyness within the man when the pipe or whatever was it when he fell down that train.

One day, you felt something strange around the projection of your spirit within Bucky’s mind. Lawless, powerful, you couldn’t identify it. Nonetheless, you needed it to unlock the thick, intricate mecanism around that beating thing. You figured out that if it was the Winter Soldier who waited patiently for his freedom; then you’d have to do something about it and put in a way more solid jail than he was already trapped in. When you asked to the man what he could be, he turned his gaze away from you. It was suspicious but you would discover what he is hiding from you anyways.

Bucky knew he couldn’t lie to you and... Well, how he’d be able to say to you that your way to soothe him was more efficient than you thought. He was keeping a little bit of the truth each time about his real state. He was a new man, he felt it. He didn’t feel any better in his head, he was still so afraid of himself, what he could do. Although, you were here and your gentle tone saying it was okay made him so happy. You were more reassuring than you imagined and the illusion you were giving of yourself. He saw it when he wandered among the floating screens of your unconscious and he watched you love someone passionately and lose this beloved one. You seemed so perfect together and here he was asking you to help him. In the darkness around him when he discovered all these details about you that he could have never guessed, he found the light of love shining bright inside your chest. And the wild thought saying you were in love with someone crushed him, and the mental link between you two gave you a headache for a week. 

Another day, you wandered to the man’s imagination, his regrets and the thoughts of what he wanted to say, to do instead of how he really acted.You found very useful clues here. And some you didn’t know what to do with. Which werre clearly unsettling. You risked to break the link once more but you held it still enough not to separate from him again. You had to admit that the illusion almost fell but you managed to stabilize the image before it turns all blurry and the mental breaks without possibility to resume the chain of thoughts you grasped some time before. Eitherway, every image would have been altered and not pue from Bucky’s influence. It wasn’t his fault however, you could hardly blame it.

“Are you sure everything is alright?” you inquired with a neutral tone while Bucky was somewhat captivated by the fact that he was trying to avoid your inquisitive glance.

“Yeah I am” he replied blankly.

“Yes, play dumb. It’s very funny, I assure you” you ironized with fake scorn to your interlocutor.

Bucky didn’t aswer back to your sharp tone. He was seeing things too and most of them were as unsettling as whatever you could’ve noticed in his mind. Knowing a person fully, each detail of the past as if being these very same people, was so unnerving and mostly scary. But then, the man liked what he saw and felt after all the hours spent in your own mind. He liked you, your being, your mistakes and your achievements. He has been amazed, raising and reminding him this forgotten sentiment called love, with all it implied.

“Don’t need to explain. I know” you ended there with a smile on your lips.

Bucky doubted of these sentiments storming inside his heart and his guts like sea monsters which are fighting for dominance over as illusional as the universe he was discovering sessions after sessions.

“You know what?” inquired the man with interest.

Your smile grew wider as you reached out your hand to touch his next to yours on the couch. As if it was kind of a reflex, Bucky leaned to your touch and left himself be. It was reassuring. And, as an answer, the fingers of his flesh hand curled up onto yours. Maybe the start of a new life. Both of you didn’t know. One day, you might be free.

Imagine: Your father, the Winter Soldier, is expecting to see you with a good manners at an upcoming S.H.I.E.L.D party

Request from:  Anonymous

It was late in the evening when Bucky finally came back to his little house at the suburbs of the New York.

Tomorrow it has to be a very important day to him - a banquet in the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. There might be a lot of an important figures. Including the directorate of the organisation.

There was only one little problem. The Winter Soldier's daughter.

Bucky took off his jacket and threw it carelessly at the couch in a living room. Then he directed his steps at an upper floor, heading directly into his daughter's room.

He knocked briefly before he came in, not even waiting for her permission to do so.

"Y/N, we need to talk" he said simply, igniting the light.

The teenager was laying on the bed, in her headphones on her head. He could easily hear what she was listening to, it was one of his favourite songs, "Enjoy the silence" by Depeche Mode.

As soon as light has brightened the room, girl at on the bed and gave him a look.

"DAAAAD! I DIDN'T SAY YOU CAN COME IN!" she yelled in a low voice, rolling her eyes as she did so.

A mischief grin appeared on Bucky's lips before he spoke.

"Do you remember what's tomorrow?"

Girl only huffed angrily, laying back down on her pillow.

"Sure I do, but I'm not planning to go there. I have better things to do".

Bucky chuckled coldly.

"Like what, my dear? If you think you'll again be riding around the city with that silly idiot, I mean your boyfriend, you're so wrong, babygirl" he leaned his back against the door frame. "You're going at the banquet with me, I don't want to hear any complaining about that".

Girl took her headphones off and crossed her arms on her chest.

"I said no. Can't you understand that? Lord! I just won't sit there, look like a little plastic doll and be supppper sweeeeet to your friends" she shrugged slightly. "I wanna party with my homies, dad! God, you'll never understand a girly needs!"

Bucky ran fingers through his thick hair, letting out a loud sigh.

"Y/N, please. It's really deadly important to me. Can you at least give it a try?"

He was so done at the moment, but he knew that if he will pass it out, he won't be able to execute anything else from her for next few days. She was oh so stubborn. Just like her mother...

"Please. Only 4 hours. You'll put  something fancy, but okay, I can agree for something else than a dress. You'll talk with people a bit, then you'll be free" he was trying to give her a reasonable arguments. He just wanted her to understand his position..

Girl was silent for a while, however after that she got off her bed and walked to him, nuzzling tightly to his chest.

"Okay dad. But only this one time. I'm not keen on stuff like that and you know it" she whispered.

Bucky wrapped arms around her waist and hugged her tightly.

"That's my girl" he mumbled happily, inhaling a scent of a shampoo from her fluffy dark hair.

She lifted her chin to face him.

"Nothing can cool us down, dad" she said.

Bucky gave a nod, giggling a bit.

"Pizza?" He offered, smiling brightly.

Young woman nodded and ran quickly to the kitchen.

Author: Beast

Gifs: X X

Imagine: Bucky is learning you Romanian

Request from: Anonymous

You were an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D since a month. You had a good contact with almost all of the Avengers, you quickly caught the contact with them because of your good interpersonal abilities. There was only one person, in front of whom you was scared to stand.. James Bucky Barnes. Yes. That tall, handsome former Winter Soldier always was making you feel incredibly unsure about yourself. You were losing your confidence as soon his blue eyes were falling on you. You were even more scared when director Fury ordered you to learn Romanian. You had to do it because of you assignment to a new mission. As concerns your experience on a missions, it was something about what you didn't prefer to talk. You have only been once to Vienna with Black Widow and Falcon. And now you had to support Bucky himself at his infiltrating mission in Bucharest. Your stress has only been increased by a fact, that Bucky will learn you Romanian. "Y/N, really, am I demand too much?" Bucky rolled his eyes once again, leaning his head on his crossed palms. You were at 10th lesson of Romanian and that was a day, when you had a little test. As it was easy to predict, you earn only half points from a stakes. "But... Bucky... I've been telling you not once... I still have problem with a pronunciation of all those long words..." You lowered your gaze, looking hardly at your nails. "You had to train it. And? You as always did nothing" he growled lazily. "Listen, Y/N, it's a fucking important mission to me. To us all. We have to penetrate one of a government's bases there, so we have to be well-prepared. That means you have to speak Romanian. Not fluently, no, I'm just demanding you to be understandable for others. They don't know English" he rubbed his chin, yawning at the same time. "Okay. Once again. But focus this time, okay?" You gave a nod and took a breath. "Trebuie să ia aceste documente la un seif" he said slowly. You cleared your throat. "Trebuie să ştiu un cod care să o, domnule.." you said quietly. Brunette measured you with a cold gaze, but then a little mischief grin appeared on Bucky's lips. "Good. Now it's much better. Tell me now, how to say TO OPEN in Romanian?" "A deschide" you whispered, trying to avoid his glance. Bucky smiled gently, nodding. "Exactly. And how to say A RED BRIEFCASE?" he asked. "O servietă roșie" you put a lock of your hair behind your ear before you dared to look at Bucky. He was smiling, no anger or disillusionment  on his face. That caused a huge relief to you. "Good. You see? You have to focus and then it's good. I hope that after next several lessons you'll speak more efficiently" his voice was low but incredibly  magnetic and charming. The fact was that you have fallen for that harsh man long time ago. Of course you were too shy to tell him about it. Besides, you thought always that he would only laugh at you, when you would tell him the truth. You packed your stuff to a bag and you got up from a chair. "Thank you Bucky" you said, giving him a brief glance. He was making an order at the desk, when you did, so he even didn't notice it. He only waved his hand. "No problem. But you shall train your pronunciation. Remember it" Bucky said. You only nodded, but when you was about to leave, something deep inside your soul adviced you to say one more thing aloud. Of course in Romanian. "Tu ești un om mare, Bucky. Mereu te-am admirat tu. Și, ca să fiu sincer, trebuie să recunosc că am o pasiune pentru tine. Noapte bună." You saw, how Bucky stiffened and how he turned his head to face you. With a mix of a wonderment and disbelief in those beautiful blue eyes of his.. But you noticed also one more thing. His cheeks were red. "You're blushing, Mr Barnes" you whispered, smiling. Then you left the room, smiling to yourself.

Author: Nad

Gif: X

The chronicles of the winter || Part II

Summary: continuation of imagine

Word Count: 874

Warnings: none

The routine is always the same: ice, fire, words, compliance. They pull the Soldier from the cryo chamber with ice still in his veins and drag him down throughout dark corridors and through bulk head doors to the chair. Coming out of cryo, he never remembers much, but he remembers enough to fear the chair. There aren’t any good times.

He thought heaven can’t help him now. Nothing lasts forever, but this is gonna take him down somehow. These memories follow him around, still. Some snippets of situations he could barely remember caused kind of an anxiety. He knew however, that he has to be impassive, no matter what will happen. Steve Rogers. That single name re-echoed in his head. It was kinda bothering him, because he had an irresistible feeling, that he knew that person. Somehow. Sometime.. Somewhere…

Soldier, the soldier, get the soldier, soldier we have a mission for you, soldier, soldier… Mission report. What mission? Which mission? Why are they staring at me? Mission report. Captain America.

Ice. Fire. Words. Compliance. More fire. More words. More ice. Every time they pull him from the ice, things have changed. Hairstyles. Cars. Fashion. Language changes. A phrase that would have passed unnoticed becomes old-fashioned while he sleeps. Who his handlers serve changes as well: from the Soviet Union to Russia to Hydra. There are some constants, though. He has a habit. He sketches between missions, when he’s awaiting at another assignment. But as soon as sketch is done, he destroys it. Once he couldn’t force his himself to tear up that sketch, and his handler found it stuck in a pocket that usually holds ammunition. They broke his fingers before they put him in the ice that time, and again when they pull him out. The Soldier’s fingers ache after that, a steady reminder not to get caught again.

The other thing that doesn’t change is death. Whether his handlers are Soviet, Russian or Hydra, their orders always involve death. They burn out his memory, but death always follows him. All those people he killed. Polish colonel in Warsaw, Danish special agent, Bosnian high rank commander of Tactical Air Force… He remembers all of them. ALWAYS.

Where are those happy days? They seem so hard to find. I really tried to make it out, I wish I understood. How can I even try to go on?

And now he was assigned once again. His mission seemed to not be so easy this time, but there was no place for excuses. Captain America. Steve Rogers. And Soldier has to eliminate the target.

His handler took him to the little room. It was “his place”. There was a little window beneath a ceiling, brick walls were dilapidated. A narrow metal bed with a smouldering mattress on it was standing with bedhead to the door. “Rest. You’re going to Washington tomorrow morning” handler said in harsh voice, without any redundant emotions. He only nodded.

As soon as doors were closed, Bucky slowly sat on the mattress, slipping his metal fingers into his long hair.  “I need to shave”, brunette thought to himself. It was rather a ridiculous afterthought, he thought second later. He always wanted to ran from demons of his past, so he tried to think about some silly things. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes not…

He spent whole night by sitting on the mattress, with knees tucked up to his chin.

The sun has already long set when they landed at a private airfield. The two men with them made bribes and threats to avoid any questions. The Soldier geared up in his tactical suit, the handler insisted that this job requires the face mask. Bucky made sure he had all his weapons —guns, knives. He put the mask in place, and then got into the back of the plain black van that awaited them on the tarmac. In the van, time seemed to come to a standstill.

When the van stopped and the handler threw the door open on a city street he thought he should recognize, he could noticed the beginnings of light showing in the sky. “You have ten minutes. They’ll be here in a moment” his handler said.

They were looking for him since several minutes. “They said he’s somewhere around here” Natasha growled, once again taking a look at the navigation and a little red dot on a screen. Sam let out a slight gasp. “Maybe S.H.I.E.L.D has wrong informations? Who has reported it?” man asked, shrugging. “They have confirmed informations, Sam” Captain’s voice was firm as he spoke.

Steve was preparing to this actions since very long time period. The Winter Soldier, the Ghost, was in the city and it might be the only occasion to find him and take him to the base. He was responsible for a lot of assassinations in last few decades. S.H.I.E.L.D really wanted to catch that man. He was the most dangerous person and he needed to be captured. Steve’s phone rang suddenly, so he picked up a call.

He was listening for a while and when he hung off the phone, he threw a gaze to Sam. “Turn right, Sam. One of the agents has seen their van at the city center.”

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part III

Part II Summary: continuation of imagine

Word Count: 1273

Warnings: none

Ten minutes to eliminate the Captain America is more than generous. He didn’t make a sound, he was trained not to make a sound. While the van was standing at the little parking lot next to the main street in the city center, he was awaiting, in a shade of a huge skyscraper. Leaning his back against the cold wall of the building, he once again repeated his plan.

Take your aim… HE’S ONLY A TARGET. Cut him down… THAT PREMONITION THAT I KNEW HIM. Your bullet can’t ricochet….

Finally he heard some voices. Target wasn’t alone…

“Are you sure it’s here?” Sam asked hesitantly. “Excuse me? Are you undermining my navigational skills now?” Natasha barked loudly, getting out of their car. Steve, who at that moment was standing next to the vehicle, was looking around. “Stop, immediately, both of you” he said in a harsh voice of his. “It’s not a good moment for arguments, do you understand?” Natasha only rolled her eyes, taking a seat at the hood of the car. “What’s now, Cap?” she asked coldly. “I’m telling you, Steve. It could be anyone else. Maybe they’re wrong.” Captain didn’t answer at her words, because he noticed the black van standing at a one of free parking spaces.

In the same time Soldier decided to start an action. He turn around, stepping out of the shadow and he aimed. But he quickly realized the target was firing his own weapon at him, one bullet has striked him in the chest where his tactic vest absorbed the impact. In the next moment the target launched himself at the Soldier. He was good, Bucky had to admitted… He was stronger and faster than target was, but he had to concentrate to block man’s blows and get through his defences. He lost his own weapon early in the exchange. Bucky was finally able to sweep blonde man’s feet out from under him and he went down. He straddled the target, circling his neck with his hands. It will take only moments now…

But the target wasn’t alone. Bucky felt a strong blow aimed in his neck, so for a short moment he lost his concentration. Not even taking eyes off the target, with his metal arm he grabbed second person, who was still standing behind them. He easily threw the person aside. With a corner of his eye he noticed it was a redhead woman.

He again focused on the target beneath him. But the target wasn’t done. He managed to get one leg up to Bucky’s throat, to force him down and break the grip that’s depriving him of breath. He almost managed to get away. No one has managed to come so close to escaping the Soldier… But he had him pinned again in a moment… The target began to strike out with no technique, just blind panic, arms and legs were flailing against him. As he gasped for breath that won’t come, one of the target’s hand reached out and grabbed his face mask, pulling it off.

The target saw his face, and he freezed. The target knows him…

Second strong blow in the neck threw Soldier out of the target, straight at the concrete. He made a coup forward and quickly got back on his feet. There was one more person besides the woman. It was a tall black man. A strong man…

The target got up from the ground with help of his comrade. Bucky felt target’s eyes on himself.

Soldier slowly turned his head to face blonde man. “BUCKY?!” the target whispered quietly. Soldier for a second was silent, than he narrowed his brows and barked. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

He didn’t know what the target was talking about. But the familiar feeling of knowing that man came back to Soldier’s head.

Suddenly an apparent peace has been interrupted by shots. The two men who came at the place with the Soldier, seeing what was going on at the parking lot, decided to step into an action. They were aiming in the target and his comrades. Suddenly Soldier heard a female scream. Redhead has been shot in her arm and she fell on the ground, squeaking quietly.

“Get to the fucking van!” one of the mercenaries screamed loudly, giving a sign to the Soldier, while the second was distracting the target.

Bucky ran straight to the car and quickly got in. After a moment second of the men jump to the van too and he shut the door as he did. A driver hardly pressed the accelerator and after a while they were on a way back to the private airport.

His handler was standing on the stairs, just out of reach, he held a pistol firmly in both hands. It didn’t matter. The Soldier knew he could kill the man if he wanted to. He had a gun in his boot and three knives, and he wouldn’t even need any of them. He could cross the distance between them and break the man’s neck before he could pull the trigger or say the words. But he didn’t. The handler’s controls was fraying, but they weren’t quite broken yet. “Soldier, report” his handler ordered. The Soldier didn’t even do his handler the courtesy of looking at him, keeping his eyes directed to the floor. He was sitting at the narrow brick wall, in the huge devastated, abandoned air shed. “You failed your mission, Soldier. I need your report.” That made the Soldier turn to his handler. He knew he did. “Who am I?” Bucky asked. “You are the Soldier” the handler replied without hesitation. “And who was I before that?” “You were nobody.” the words were spit out, contemptuous. The Soldier clenched his fists. “You ARE nobody.” “Who was the target?” he asked. “He was an enemy.” “I knew him” the Soldier whispered. “That’s why he had to die. He would have exposed your existence. Your work is so important, we cannot allow that to happen.” the handler was so sure, so confident. The Soldier hated him. “But I knew him” Bukcy insisted. He sensed his handler’s tense. He rose to his feet and faced down his handler. The man was almost as tall as he was, but the Soldier knew he can’t be underestimated. “Солдат. Стоп.” The Soldier balanced on the balls of his feet. He knew the switch to Russian meant the words were coming. “Желание.” One word wasn’t enough for the handler to take his will, but it was enough that for the Soldier to feel the strands of control began to once more wind around him. He launched himself forward with a snarl, sure of his own ability, but his handler was ready for him. He fired two times and the Soldier felt two darts strike, in throat and leg. He fought to keep moving, but can feel the drugs, the poison, which was overcoming his will. He had his hands around the throat of his handler, but his vision was fading and he fell. The last thing he felt before he lost consciousness entirely was a vicious kick to his ribs.

He woke up in the chair and found the routine has changed. This time, they started with fire, fire that burnt the rebellion from his brain. Fire that left him screaming, that made his limbs tremble. When the fire has burned the last fragment of his old self away, only then they did stop. His handler approached him, the hated red book which he has held in his hands. “And now, Soldier,” his handler said coldly, “we will begin again.”

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part IV

Part II  || Part III Summary: continuation of imagine

Word Count: 1210

Warnings: none

He had to be wiped again. It took five men to get him into the chair, and three to get the rubber guard in his mouth. He sweared he’ll kill them all. If he will remember. If he will…

If you’re not close to someone, you won’t miss them when they’re gone.

The war against Hydra has started again.

Steve’s heart was broken. Bucky. His Bucky was ALIVE. The man he missed for all those years, the man he thought has died. The lost friend… He was ALIVE. He was in a reach of his hand, but once again Steve has failed. He let them take Bucky away.

Captain was sitting in his room, at the desk with a little lamp on it. He was drawing, as he used to do in a good times. He drew a man. A man with dark hair and a wicked smile and pain behind his eyes. The picture caused a pain in Steve’s chest so intense, he wasted precious lead scribbling over it until the image was obliterated before he torn it up. He let out a short scream, letting tears to run down his cheeks. Bucky. HIS FRIEND.

Steve slipped hands in his blonde hair, he lowered his head, closing the blue eyes of his.

He remembered the way Bucky looked at him when he called his name. Steve saw, how confused man was. He seemed to not remember things. It was Bucky, that was obvious, but he was STRANGE. Of course he had changed, his hair were longer, he had a beard. And finally, he had a pain behind his eyes.. Ineffable pain. It was Bucky, but at the same it wasn’t him. Steve couldn’t recognize his friend in those blue eyes. It was the foe.

A subtle knocking to his door roused him from thoughtfulness. “Come in” he said simply, closing his sketchbook. The door has opened and Sam walked in. “I came to check if you need something” Wilson said slowly, with kind of a hesitation in his voice. Steve gave a sad smile to his friend, shaking head slightly. “All I need is to find HIM, but you know that” Captain rose from a chair and walked to the large window with a view at the Potomac River. He leaned his forearm against a cold glass, letting out a loud sigh. Falcon for a moment was standing still, but then he slowly walked to Captain and put his palm on man’s shoulder. “I know” he affirmed. Steve lifted his chin and turned head to face Sam. “I have a feeling I’ve lost him again” that short statement was the only thing Captain could say at the moment. Falcon looked straight into his friend’s eyes. “We’ll find him, but first of all you have to convince our management to this idea. Natasha is injured, I don’t think they’ll just let you bring Barnes here. It’s too dangerous. He’s a… lunatic.” “SAM” Steve’s face has stiffened in a second. “Hydra has a control over him. It wasn’t him…” Falcon took a step back, now both of his palms were placed at Steve’s shoulders. “It’s hard for you and I respect it. But someone has to stay with clear mind. Let me be a voice of rationality” sad smile appeared on Sam’s face as he spoke. “You can’t just throw everything and go to look for him. Even you won’t manage it. He’s a ghost. And I think they changed his location. We have to prepare a plan. We need to have a support from above, so Fury has to accept your idea before you’ll take any actions” Sam cocked brow at Steve, looking for a confirmation if his friend understands his words. Captain with a deep sigh gave a slight nod. “Very good” Sam patted Steve’s back. “You shall rest” he added quickly, taking hands off blonde man’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. Now, when we know he’s alive, it’ll be easier to track him down” after the last sentence, Falcon quietly left the room, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

Bucky had a nightmare again. But this time it was something new. It was as if God had adjusted the colours of the world in the night, like it was as easy as twisting one of those old plastic dials on a TV set. Everything was brighter than it should be, the trees were not just green but radiant virescent hues that burned themselves in Bucky’s sleepy retinas. The houses were as grey as if they’d been repainted by moonlight and now stood vibrant in the golden rays that fell unfettered though the clear sky. The road that should be grey was a sleek river of black with perfect paint lines and the street, lamps were blue. But they had never been blue, not ever. Everything was so right it was wrong - really wrong. The front yards that had been dishevelled with the decrepitude of late winter just yesterday were a riot of colourful blooms. Bucky turned back to look at his house, the curtain twitched. Someone was in there. He hurried to the front door only to find it was locked. Suddenly Bucky heard familiar voice, it came from behind. Brunette slowly turned around. In front of him his last target was standing, without hesitation. Captain America, Steve Rogers. His skin was pale, his big eyes seemed to glow in a blue light of the street lamps. He was wearing a military uniform, its colour also wasn’t normal, a mix of black with radiant blue. “Do you remember all the danger we came from?” man asked. Bucky couldn’t say a word. Some kind of an invisible force overwhelmed his entire body. “I’m longing for the days of no surrender, years ago” Captain continued. “To all the things I’ve lost on you, tell me, Bucky, are they lost on you? Just that you could cut me loose after everything I’ve lost on you?” The Soldier trembled slightly, he wanted to take a step backward, but something was keeping him in a place. “So smoke ‘em if you got 'em 'cos it’s going down” blonde man said, taking a pistol out of his pocket. He aimed and shot in Bucky’s head.

Bucky woke up, trembling all over his body, covered in cold sweat. He sat on his bed, his eyes weren’t accustomed to the darkness, so he blinked few times. The target. He knew that man. He used to know him… He was sure now.

Bucky rose up and went to the little, dingy bathroom located on the corridor. Once he was there, he quickly splashed his face with a cold water, then he lifted chin and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He only noticed a pair of sad, frightened blue eyes. He was pale, he desperately needed a shave. He clenched hands in fists and with metal one he simply hit in the mirror. Glass with a loud bang has crashed into hundreds of small pieces. At the same time Bucky squalled targets name, slowly slumping to his knees.

After long argument with Fury, Steve finally received the assent to look for Bucky and to bring him to the S.H.I.E.L.D base. Now the race against time has started.

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part V

Part II  || Part III  || Part IV

continuation

of

imagine

Summary: Steve receives an information about possible Bucky's location. Bucky has to deal with a consequences of failure to perform his task. He's found by Steve and his friends. They take the Winter Soldier to Shield base, but peace doesn't last long. A mysterious envoy of Hydra is on a spoor of Bucky.

Word Count:  3338

Warnings: none

Steve was looking for Bucky since two weeks. Unfortunately, there was no signs of where he can be. Steve almost lost his hope, but some day, on Wednesday, something had changed.

He was at the daily training session with Sam and Clint, when two high rank agents approached them at the training room. “Captain” one of them spoke slowly. Steve lifted his chin up and looked at the man in the suit. “Yes?” he frowned a bit. Wilson and Barton walked to Steve and measured agents with surprised glances. “We have an information about Winter Soldier” the agent in a black suit said simply. Second man started to look for something in his case. After a while he pulled out a red briefcase with a handwritten inscription on it. “JAMES BARNES.” Steve’s heart immediately raced in his chest as he noticed the superscription. Without any words he took the folder in his hands and opened it. He started to read, turning around to the other men and walked to the nearest bench. He took a seat, still reading a dossiers. “Steve?” Sam walked to his friend, looking down at him. Steve was silent still, but after few moments he slowly lifted chin to look at his buddy. “They know where he is” he mumbled with a trembling voice.

It was a hard time for the Soldier. He needed to face never-ending pain, nearly death and angst, which they had offered him. After few days of tortures he was so tired that he even couldn’t defend himself anymore. It was a point where he was begging. About even a few drops of a water… He hated to be dependent on them, but if he wanted to survive, he just hadn’t other choice.

“You failed” his handler was standing next to the one of a generals of Hydra. Bucky was sitting at the metal chair in the interrogation’s room, he was looking at both of the men with a cold glance of his blue eyes. “We checked upon your files, Soldier” general’s voice was frigid. No emotions at his face. Bucky knew that man was rather too young for someone with such high rank. It meant he had no scruples. It was easy to advance in Hydra’s structure, the only things you had to have was perkiness and uncompromising attitude. Bucky knew also he could kill both of them within 30 seconds. But he was too exhausted to even try to fight. “And we have made our decision” a wry smile crept onto his handler’s mouth. Bucky didn’t even blink. The two men exchanged their glances in a silence. “You’ll be executed tomorrow, at the dawn” general said simply. “You know too many things. You didn’t give us any other choice, Soldier.” Bucky didn’t show any signs of a fear, but deep inside he was screaming from a dismay. After a second he cooled himself down and he started to create a plan of an escape. They wanted his death, but he wouldn’t give them a satisfaction. If they wanted to kill him, first they’ll have to break him down.

At the dawn, Bucky has been awoken by four soldiers. The captaincy had sent such many soldiers to drag him at the main square of the headquarters just to make sure he won’t escape. But Bucky was calm. Maybe even too calm, but fortunately men didn’t notice it. His plan has just started.

Once they brought him at the square he noticed, that there was a firing squad awaiting for him. But he was still calm. He let soldiers to take him at the middle of the square where they tied his hands behind his back. He even let them to put an old, stinky bag on his head so he couldn’t see anything.

After several seconds he heard a sound of a reloaded weapons. He didn’t show any fear. He was standing still, with the bag on his head, his back straight and hands tied behind. He was breathing calmly, repeating the plan in his mind. He started to count to 3.

…1… He knew the firing squad was aiming at him. …2…. The voice of the main commander who ordered soldiers to prepare themselves to shot. …3… In the last moment Bucky tautened his muscles, tearing the chains up. Second later he made a backflip, hitting the nearest soldier in chin with his combat boot. As soon as man was down, Bucky took his Makarov pistol and quickly aimed in the second soldier, killing him with a one single shot. The firing squad shot. Three or four bullets ricocheted from Bucky’s metal arm, next two bullets hit brunette in the chest. Bucky yelled loudly in a pain before he fall down on the concrete. Still holding the gun in his hand, with a metal palm he pressed the wounds on his chest, trying to catch a breath. A fear started to overwhelm him, but he couldn’t let it to happen. When four or five soldiers have ran to him, Bucky got up and started a grapple. He managed to pull the long knife from a pocket of the nearest soldier and with it he splitted man’s throat. Then he quickly stabbed another man in chest. Suddenly he felt a huge pain in his back. Bucky clenched his teeth to hold back a scream. He turned around and saw one of the commanders in front of him. Man was holding a knife in his hand, he threw Bucky a vicious gaze. “You fucking piece ofa shit!” man shouted, attacking Bucky. After few moments the two man was laying down on the ground, tussled fiercely. Bucky finally with all his strength stab the knife in commander’s throat. He felt a warm, viscous liquid on his hand. Blood. The blonde man, who was laying beneath Bucky, laughed weakly, looking straight in the blue eyes of the Soldier. “They’ll find… you… everywhere.. They don’t… like… to… lose their toys..” Bucky smiled only and hit man with his metal arm straight in face. He heard the sound of broken nose, he felt like man’s face was changing in a bloody slurry. He didn’t stop until whole bones in man’s face weren’t broken. He only atopped when man was still. He looked down and let out a sigh, seeing what he has done. But he wasn’t sorry about that. They forced him to do so. There was a blood on his hands, on his face, in his hair, he felt that his grey shirt was soaked with blood too. His chest was hurting him oh so badly, but he couldn’t stop. Not now.

When only he left alive on the square, the Soldier began calculating his strategy. How many more soldiers? Where are the weapons stored? What is his exit plan? The truth was he didn’t believe he’ll make it. But he did. And now he had to run. As far as he only could. He put a lo g knife in his combat boot, he took two more and placed them in his pants’ pockets. He took also as much magazines as he could carry, putting them in his free pockets in his military pants. He took two pistols in his hands and walked straight to the main building of the base.

As soon as he opened the door, he shot the two soldiers first, firing before they had time to suspect the Soldier is no longer their creature. Then he walked straight to where he knew the transport sheds hold the trucks he’ll need to escape. There were soldiers awaiting him between the building and the sheds and they put up stronger resistance. But he fought his way into the sheds.

He put volleys of bullets into the engine blocks of the trucks he didn’t take, so his pursuers will have to call for help, but he knew it won’t be enough. Escape will require all his skills. And more luck than he though the universe will grant him. But he’s come too far. He won’t surrender so easily. They have made a weapon on him. And he’ll use that weapon against them all.

An hour’s hard drive got him to a city, named Zhukovsky. As he entered the city limits, he could already see signs that his enemies are closing around him. Troop transports on main streets. Police and soldiers already on the streets, checking papers. He needed to move fast, to get himself out of here, out of Russia.

He parked the truck in an industrial area. He got off the car and almost immediately he feel on the ground. The sharp pain in his chest threw him on his knees.

After few minutes he managed to got up and he slowly walked into the direction of the forest on the horizon.

He didn’t know how long he was hedging throughout the forest. Finally he slowly sank on his knees, leaning back against the tree. He was pressing the metal palm to the wounds on his chest. He was breathing slowly. Suddenly he realized that with an air, the blood was exhaled with his breaths. He probably had injured lungs. He looked at his metal palm. It was covered in a blood. His own blood.

He got to fight another fight. He got to run another night. He was on his way, and he didn’t feel right. He gotta get himself back. He couldn’t be beaten, that was a fact. He’ll find a way. They ain’t gonna take him down, no way.

He didn’t even notice, when he lost his senses. Whole world has faded away in a darkness.

Steve was walking throughout a forest, he was carefully looking around. Sam and Clint were with him, safeguarding their backs. “Are you sure, Steve?” Clint asked simply, his bow was prepared to shot in every moment. It was a dark night, clouds were veiling the moon, so there was literally no light, it handicapped the search. They had to use a flashlights, but even that didn’t help at all. They erred in a dense fog. Every path they had chosen, was leading to nowhere. But Steve received a confirmed informations. Bucky had to be somewhere around. Suddenly Sam has stopped, raising his hand up, he gave a sign to rest to be quiet. Clint approached Steve and aimed ahead, he was ready to shot. A figure has slowly emerged from the mist. Steve immediately recognized him. It was Bucky. His metal arm was glistening in a light of Sam’s flashlight. Brunette was slowly walking in their direction, holding himself by a chest. He slowly sank down on his knees, letting out a quiet whimper as he did. Steve wasn’t waiting any longer, he ran to the man and knelt next to him, supporting him from falling completely on the ground. “BUCKY….” Rogers whispered, laying Soldier carefully on the forest floor. He slowly pushed man’s hand off his chest to realized there was a huge stain of a fresh blood at his shirt. Falcon and Hawkeye walked to them, lightening place up with their flashlights. “He’s injured” Sam notified quietly. Steve only nodded, slipping hand under Bucky’s arm to lift him up. “Help me, guys” Rogers asked slightly and after a while Barnes was again standing on his feet, supported by Captain America himself. “Let’s take him to the base. There they’ll look upon him” Steve announced as they were walking back to their plain.

Bucky slowly opened his eyes, looking around with a unconscious gaze.

He was in a little room with a walls in a subtle shade of sand. He was laying on a bed, covered with a warm white quilt. His head was rested at the fluffy pillow. Bucky was breathing calmly. When he wanted to get up, he felt a strong hand on his chest which brought him back down in the pillow. The Soldier looked at the side and paled.

Captain America. His former target.

He opened his mouth, but not even a single word had left them. “Shhh… You shall rest now” blonde man took hand back, looking down at the Soldier. “You has been seriously injured.”

Brunette swallowed before he finally spoke. “Who is Bucky?” That was the only one question he wanted to ask. He needed to know. His blue eyes seemed to drill through other man’s chest, reaching his soul. “You are Bucky” Steve managed to whisper after a while of an awkward silence. “Your name is James Barnes, but we all used to call you Bucky or Buck..” Brunette turned his glance aside. “I don’t remember” he mumbled under his breath. “You need a time.. Hydra was in a control over you.” Bucky let himself to close eyes for a while. “And who are you?” the Soldier asked hesitantly. “They said you’re an enemy.” Steve sighed deeply, rubbing his chin. “I’m Steve.. Steve Rogers. And I’m not the enemy. I’m your friend..” he did everything to hide a single tear which was streaming down his face. Bucky turned himself on a side. “I wanna be alone..” he splattered slightly. Steve sighed and slowly rose up from the chair. “I’m glad you’re alive” Rogers added before he left a room.

Itsy bitsy spider is climbing on the wall. Better watch your step or in her web you’ll fall. Spin you round in circles in a net of doubt. If you’re stuck, I’m done with you, beause I won’t get you out.

She was a handsome woman, built on the gorgeous lines of a Renaissance goddess. Her blue eyes, like the sea, were calm and emotionless. Long, wavy red hair, so smooth and silky, almost as if it was tailored from satin. Her pastel white flawless skin made her beautiful pink full lips stand out. The way her long lashes framed her eyes when she captured a target turning them into a stone and the way her full lips would curl into a mischievous grin every time she did so. She had a little mole next to her left eyebrow. Her shape like a rock guitar - rounded hips and very pronounced waist. Her long legs were perfect too.

She appeared in the cafe with the winter snow billowing around her short black skirt. She had a tight lacy blouse under a black coat. Most of people inside did pay an attention to her beauty. She was literally stunning. The clicking of her high heels added rhythm to the soft classical music that played onward without pause. Her eyes scanned the room with determination in search of someone. She walked to a counter, with hipnotizing swing in her hips. She rested hands on the counter, subtly leaning forward to a waiter. “Excuse me” she whispered softly, her voice delicate as a petal of a rose. “I’m looking for someone.” Man behind a bar lifted his chin to give her a look. She opened her little purse and pulled out a photo, which next she gave to a man. “Do you know maybe, where I can find him?” young woman asked. Man was looking at the picture for a while, then he gave it back to the girl. “I do know him. It’s Captain America, everyone knows him here. The easiest way to find him is to go to the S.H.I.E.L.D base, at the shore of the river. It’s a large building, you won’t have any problems to find it” he said, looking obstinately in woman’s decolletage. Redhead nodded slightly, putting the picture back into her purse, then she thanked and turned around to leave thw cafe.

But at the door, she stopped. She has slowly looked around before she pulled a gun out of her coat’s pocket. With several shots she killed everyone in the cafe. Without a blink. She didn’t want to be recognised, that was why she did so.

After all, she put her Desert Eagle Magnum back into her pocket and then redhead has left the cafe, without any witnesses. The place luckily was located at the suburbs of the city, so she was mirebthan sure that no one has seen her. Now she knew, what she has to do.

Two weeks have passed.

Bucky was slowly coming back to his full strengths under watchful eye of Steve. Not everyone was glad about the Winter Soldier presence in the base. Black Widow was constantly showing, how unhappy she is with that fact by never-ending arguments with Rogers and Barnes. Nick Fury ordered agents to keep an eye on Bucky, so there wasn’t a moment, when he could be fully alone.

That day Steve took him at the little walk. Practically, both of them have sneaked out from under the tutelage. They wanted to talk in peace, without a neighboring glances. Steve decided to take Bucky to the little park located at the other side of the river. “How’s your chest?” blonde asked with a care in his voice aa they both took a seats at the wooden bench.

The winter was rather beautiful. The snow was slowly circulating down in the gentle wind, a frosty air was gently pinching the cheeks of two men.

“It’s fine” Bucky’s low voice seemed to slit the air. Steve took a deep breath, improving his blue scarf. “Something new?” Rogers enquired. Bucky shook his head slightly. “Only the fact your mom’s name was Sarah” brunette rubbed his hands to warm them up a bit. Steve couldn’t help but smiled, putting palm at Bucky’s shoulder. “Yes. You have right, Buck.” The Soldier looked at the Captain with an  impassable sadness in those blue eyes of his. “I wish I could remember more, but sometimes.. I just can’t trust my own mind.” Steve nodded. “I know, Buck. I know.”

They spent almost half an hour, talking with each other. Then, when the sun went down, Steve commanded a way back to the base.

When the two men were at a wide path between a rows of trees, they heard some noises behind them. It was a sound of reloaded gun. They both turned around. Steve’s brows narrowed, he instinctively put a hand at Bucky’s chest, pushing him back a little.

In front of them was standing a young redhead woman. She was holding a gun in her straight hands, aiming in Captain’s head.

“Steve…” Bucky said slowly. Blonde gave his friend a sign to stay silent. “Who’re you?” Rogers asked simply. Redhead’s lips turned into a wry smile. “You’re in my way, Captain, so you better watch out” her voice was melodious. “And you’re in a possession of something, which belongs to Hydra.”

Steve looked at Bucky with a corner of his eye. She wanted Bucky.

“Who’re you?” he repeated coldly, slowly reaching to his pocket, where he had a pager. He pushed the button hoping that Sam will hear the sound of his own pager at the gym. Woman laughed shortly. “You’re pathetic. You always have been. You really thought Hydra has been destroyed, but as you can see you were wrong. Now give the Winter Soldier back to us and no one will be hurt.”

Steve slowly started to take little steps backward. He was without his shield, without a protection. They were at the open terrain, there was no place to hide. And Bucky was with him. He couldn’t lose Bucky again. Not after all those years. Not when he just got him back…

Woman was dressed in a black leather pants and a black bluse with a tactic vest on top of it. Her outfit was emphasizing her body shape, she was slim and fit.the Her combat boots had a high sole and they also were black. Her long wavy red hair were loose. She was measuring him with a cold gaze of her blue eyes.

“Who’re you!?” this time Steve yelled. He was trying to gain some precious time.

Young woman lifted her chin up a bit, looking hardly at Steve, she smiled wryly. “I’m the new generation of the Winter Soldier.”

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part VI

Part II  || Part III || Part IV  || Part V continuation of imagine

Summary: Bucky and Steve fight together against Hydra's agents, but unfortunately not everything is going right...

Word Count: 1379

Warnings: none

“Behind you! Bucky!” Steve yelled.

Bucky saw them then. Silent as beetles, two men scuttled toward him. More followed, slipping from behind the trees. Under cover of the snow and fog, the pack had stalked in, unseen, converging from three directions. They were from Hydra. They carried knives, chains and guns.

They’d sent the girl as a honey pot to hold Steve and Bucky in place while the gang closed in. She’d smiled at them while she was planning to watch them die.

“More of them down that way” Steve dropped out of the fog, into his usual place, taking the left. They were two against that many…

Bucky quickly reached to his pocket, pulling out a little knife. He picked a target - one of men in front, where his friends would see him die - and threw his weapon. The man collapsed with a sucking, bubbling neck wound. The familiar stink of death rose in the alley. Bucky pulled his second knife. The thugs hesitated, sending glances back and forth, fingering blade and cudgel. Attack or retreat. It could go either way. If this lasts long, they’ll get killed.

“Mine on the right” Bucky threw and his blade hit badly and glanced off a collar bone of another enemy soldier. One man down. One wounded. “Waste of a knife, damn” Bucky growled in a low voice, looking briefly at Steve.

Steve nodded and ran straight at another Hydra’s soldier, after a second they both were tussling on the snow. Rogers straddled man, pinning him down as his fists were aiming blows in man’s face. He stopped only, when he felt a strong thwack in the back of his head.

Bucky’s last knife was in his boot. Not for throwing. This one was for killing up close. He forced his mind to the pattern the attackers wove, trying to spot the leader. Kill the leader and the others might scatter. And in a flash he realized. SHE WAS A LEADER OF THE PACK.

There was no way to get the woman. She stayed in their shadow, using Hydra’s soldiers as a shield. Then he didn’t think about her at all. Chain whistled past him. Bucky turned around and grabbed it and jerked the man off balance and drove his knife through a gap in the leather waistcoat, up under the breastbone, to the heart.

For an instant Bucky stood locked, face to face, with the man he’d just killed - a thickset red-head with pale skin and vicious, gleeful, mad blue eyes. Outrage and disbelief pulsed out at him and drained away. Man’s eyes went blank. Then the dead bastard thrashed, rolled with the knife, and took it down with him as he fell. There was no time to get it back. A crowbar cracked down on his shoulder with a bright, sour, copper pain. Bucky fell, dodged a boot, and rolled away as Steve took down his attacker.

The woman screamed. “Take ‘em alive! THEY want them alive! Move your fucking fat asses, suckers!”

Up. He had to get up. Bucky got back on his feet, shaking his head, trying to see through a black haze. The girl was standing between two men, aiming her gun in them. The Soldier staggered through madness and confusion, fog and pain. Steve was swearing a blue streak.

Suddenly more agents appeared from different sides.

“FUCK” Bucky cursed aloud, looking at Steve. “There’s too many of them! Call for a support, Steve.” “I did” Rogers quickly looked around. He ran to the nearest bench and ripped off its back. He was going to use it to the defence.

Redhead woman was observing all that scene with a restlessness. She briefly looked at her watch. 10:12 PM. She was belated and she knew she’s gonna be punished by her leaders. If they ordered her to be back in base at 10:10 PM, she was just obligated to do so, no matter with costs. She threw a cold glance at the man on her left. “Agent 3, we can’t allow it to lasts. Use the Alsatian.” Man nodded slightly and whistled loudly.

Bucky and Steve were fighting still, when they heard a mighty roar nearby. Agents, which were attacking them, moved away apace. Bucky helped Steve to rise up from the ground. He suddenly noticed, that Steve’s face was changing. His friend paled, looking above Bucky’s shoulder with a horror on his face.

Bucky turned his head back gradually. Bucky instinctively took a step back, allignig with Steve.

In front of them, few meters away, was standing something he saw for the first time in his life.

From the shadows came a huge wolf or something similar, much more bigger than a normal wolf, yet he was no an ordinary predator. He moved to block them, staring with almost human eyes at them. The wolf had a huge scar across a right side of his face, the green eyes were glowing in a dim light of lanterns in the park. The black-grey fur was ruffled by each wind blow. The only sound was his breathing, his flaring nostrils as he took in Bucky’s scent. He curled up his gums to reveal yellow stained teeth and then let out a low rumbling growl.

Bucky slowly turned his head to face Steve. “What now, Mr Know-It-All?” Bucky asked quietly. Steve started to move backward as slowly as he could, still with hia eyes on the animal. “Slowly, Buck. Don’t make any chaotic movements…” So Bucky did as Steve said. It was until the Soldier stepped on the branch, which cracked under pressure of his boots.

But animal didn’t attack. The wolf slowly stepped back, disappearing in the shadow.

Redhead’s lips curled up into a wry smile when agents attacked Rogers and Barnes once again. The two men seemed to be tired of the fight and she knew it won’t be long.

Bucky managed to take down 3 of the agents rather easily, Steve with all his strength was fighting against the biggest of the men.

Bucky wanted to help his friend, so he walked at the attacker, but suddenly he heard something behind.

Through the darkness came the glow of two green eyes, like sallow lamplight eight feet off the ground. They moved with a slight sway, as if the unseen body prowled like a big cat. But it definelty wasn’t a cat. Bucky stopped. The eyes did not, with rapid acceleration and a more bounding motion they came right for him. In less than two seconds he was on his back gasping for air. The first strike was with a poisoned claw to slow the reaction time of the victim, after that it was play time. The monster sank his teeth into Bucky’s neck, not too deep, but deep enough to weaken brunette’s strengths with a blood loss. Bucky let out a vicious scream, with his metal hand he grasped the throat of the huge animal and squeezed it as hard as he only could. With all his strength he pushed animal back, turning quickly at his knees. Man crawled aside, pressing his wound on neck with his hand. He could easily heard that wolf was preparing himself to the second attack, but suddenly another sound appeared. A chopper. That probably was a reason he hasn’t been attacked again.

Bucky lifted his head, seeing how Steve has been pinned down to the ground by two agents, one of them used an inhibitor to make sure Steve won’t fight again. The electricity ran quickly throughout whole Rogers’ body, causing a loud yell of pain.

Bucky yelled too, from anger and helplessness. Now, when everything seemed to be coming back to normal, Hydra stepped into their lives again. In the most cruel way.

Bucky felt, how heavy his eyelids were becoming with every second. He laid himself back on the snow, on his back, looking at the dark night sky. With a corner of his eye he noticed a black military chopper landed on the small meadow behind the trees. The last thing he saw was the redhead woman, she crouched next to him. “You see, Barnes, Hydra always receives everything she wants” her voice began to fade out, blurring to nothingness as all around him.

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part VII

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V  || Part VI continuation of imagine

Summary: Bucky and Steve woke up in Hydra’s base... nothing gonna be so easy now.

Word Count: 2765

Warnings: none

He slowly opened his eyes, looking around with unconscious glance. He was in a little room. He almost immediately recognized that place. It was his room in Hydra’s base. “Fuck..” Bucky cursed under his breath, slowly sitting at the edge of bed. His head was hurting so badly, he had dizzy.

Few minutes have passed before he was able to rise from his seat. He walked to the door unsteadily, leaning his metal hand against a cold wall for a support. He put hand at a handle and he tried to opened the door, but he quickly realized they were locked.

“Not so quick, soldier” a soft voice came to his ears from behind. He turned around and frowned. From the shadow of his room appeared a figure. Redhead female. “You…” he growled, his hands clenched into fists. The woman took a lock of her hair behind her ear. She smirked, her eyes were glowing in a dim light falling to the room throughout a little window placed under the ceiling. “And who were you expecting, soldier?” she asked in a soft voice. “Someone competent” he snapped angrily in response. Another wave of a terrible headache caused, that Bucky almost lost his balance, so he leaned his back against the metal door. Female laughed, but her laugh was cold like a ice needles. “So here I am, soldier” girl without any signs of a hesitation took a seat at Bucky’s bed, her eyes were still on him. “If you think that someone from captaincy will come to bargain, you’re fucking wrong, honey.” “Don’t call me that, fucking slatch” he threw her an angry glance, what only caused another wave of her laugh. “Where’s Steve?” Woman slowly, with a grace, crossed her legs. “Our doctors are taking care of him now” she said with a shrug. “So will they about you too, soon.”

Bucky took a deep breath. He only wanted to break her neck, but it wouldn’t help at the moment. He needed to invent a good plan, if he wanted to help  himself and Steve. “Get out” he finally snarled, not even looking at the woman. “I wanna be alone.”

Redhead was sitting still for a moment, then she slowly rose from the place and with a swing in her hips, she approached him. He didn’t see a fear in her. She was a weapon. So was he. At least they had something in common… He frowned again, when her palm has rested at his metal limb. Her fingers traced a way down, to his palm. “You see, soldier. That’s our fate. To be alone” she said, her blue eyes shifted over his body to finally rest at his face.

He couldn’t bear it any longer, he couldn’t bear her glance, so gently but decisively he pushed her back. “Don’t touch me” Bucky muttered quietly, this time he didn’t run away with his own glance. He was looking hardly into her eyes. If this was a test of strength, he couldn’t gamble away…

A little smile crept onto her lips, before she nodded slightly. “Move away” she ordered coldly, so he did. He shifted aside, making a space at door. Female opened the door with a little golden key, which she pulled out of her pocket. She didn’t look at him, when she was leaving his room. She didn’t even look around, when she was walking along the long corridor, with that sweet swing in her hips. She was so hipnotizing…

Bucky was surprised that she didn’t lock his door again, but deep inside he knew it could be nothing more but trap, so he decided to not risk too much. He closed the door and he walked to his bed. He sat on the mattress, letting out a deep sigh. That woman started to annoy him. She was too confident. Too reinless. He thought that she has been through same tortures he has been through for all those years. Bucky slowly laid his head at the single pillow, looking up at the ceiling. He closed eyes, trying to fall asleep, but the sleep wouldn’t want to come to him. Bucky’s thoughts were still going about Steve. He couldn’t stop it. But finally, after several minutes, he fell asleep.

He had a nightmare. He was in a room filled with darkness. He heard a familiar voice. “Till the end of the line, Buck.” In next moment he felt a blade stabbed his heart.

He woke up, covered in a cold sweat. He had to find Steve.

Steve woke up groggy and very unsure of where he was. There were voices around him but Steve couldn’t make out what they were saying, and there were metal bands being secured to different parts of his body, locking him in place in what felt like a chair. Something was shoved into his mouth.

The murmur of voices suddenly cut off and then…

PAIN.

The most intense pain Steve had ever felt, radiating throughout his head. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was all consuming, keeping him from thinking about anything except the pain. Eventually, the pain stopped. And then, after a while, it started up again.

Steve opened his eyes slowly, giving himself time to adjust to the new light. When there were no more spots in his eyes he could see a tiled ceiling above him, florescent lights spaced evenly throughout it.

After a few moments of wondering, Steve sat up and looked around. He was lying in a small bed in a small room. It felt familiar, looking similar to a single hospital room.

Suddenly some unfamiliar figure entered to the room. “Captain, it’s very good to see you awake” the man’s voice was smooth and he took a few extra steps into the room. Steve stood up to greet him, and shook his hand when the man offered his. “Where am I?” Steve asked simply, trying to remember, who that man might be. “You’re in the Complex Zero” man uttered slightly. “You’re working for our organization, Captain.” Steve’s brow went up in a consternation when four armed soldiers entered the room, taking places next to the door.

Steve cleared his throat anxiously. “If you don’t mind my asking, Sir, what exactly is going on?” Man looked him over for a few moments, before he spoke. “Captain Rogers, we are going to reveal to you some information that you’re really not going to like. But, once you understand, I believe that you will see that we are on the right side of this.” Steve only felt more confusion. “Of course, Sir… I’m sure whatever you have to tell me can’t be that bad…right?” “Alright, Captain Rogers” man sighed, “the truth of the matter is that we work for an organization, in fact, I’m one of the heads of said organization, that fights against what you might consider ‘the right thing.’ We fight for the people, if you give people too much freedom, such horrible things can happen. Two World Wars, for example, and so many other wars. Our organization’s purpose is to help the world’s population in making the decisions that they are not ready to make. We do good work, Captain Rogers.”

Steve frowned. “I…don’t understand” he admitted. “Why would I be against that? I mean, it just sounds like you’re doing what a government would do, right? You’re making the big decisions so everyone else doesn’t have to. Isn’t that what our government has always done?”

One of the soldiers smiled widely. “Precisely, Captain Rogers. We’re just doing what anyone else would do.”

“So…why, exactly, would I be against it?” Everyone in the room tensed ever so slightly. After a few tense moments, man in the suit sighed. “Because we go by the name Hydra, Captain.”

For a few seconds it was so silent. Then Steve was in motion, sprinting towards the door. People cursed, and Steve felt two pairs of hands clamp down on him. He managed to yank out of three of the hands, but one had a good grip and didn’t let go of his shirt. Steve reached the door anyway, but there was nothing he could do - the door was biometrically locked. Steve whirled around, coming face to face with the soldier, who owned the hand still grasping his shirt. Steve slammed a fist into the man’s face, which made him stumble away, but then another man was suddenly there,throwing punches and kicking out.

When the two of them managed to pin him, there was the slight pinch on his neck of a needle sliding in, and after another moment, his vision faded to black.

It has been three or four days since the moment, when he and Steve have been captured by Hydra. Bucky couldn’t bear with the feeling of an anxiety about Steve, so he decided to try to find his friend. Using the fact his doors weren’t locked, Bucky slowly opened them and walked at the corridor. He looked around, but there were no guards or soldiers, so brunette apace walked ahead.

I’m wasted… All I wanna do is find you. I’m faded… All I wanna do is save you.

All the corridors were similar, but he was taking the way instinctively. He knew that place as his own pocket. It was easy for him to find a correct way to the laboratory level. He had a feeling that Steve was there.

Bucky rapidly opened the huge metal door at the end of one of the corridors and he needed to blink few times. An alburnum of the next corridor has blinded him for a while. When his eyes got used to it, he started to walk along the corridor, faster and faster with each step.

Suddenly he heard a loud scream and he recognised the voice. It was Steve. Bucky ran ahead, as fast as he only could. At the end of the corridor he fell at few guards, they were trying to stop him, but Bucky attacked them with all his might. As soon as they all were down, he forced the door in and he steeped into the small room. There was only a huge window opposite him, so Barnes walked to it. He looked through it and paled.

He saw a huge laboratory room. There was a single metal chair in the middle of the room. And there Steve was sitting… Bucky hitted in the window few times, but it was a bulletproof tempered glass. It only caused that few doctors raised their heads to give him a look. Bucky was cursing loudly, still hitting the window’s glass. He sweared to himself that he’ll kill them all. For what they did to Steve…

There was also a man, dressed in a black suit. He threw Bucky a rude gaze, a mischief grin appeared on man’s face.

Suddenly Bucky felt a strong blow in the back of his head. He fell in the ground, loosing his senses.

“Any progress?” Steve knew that voice, but he couldn’t place where from.

“It’s the same each day. The first six hours after the wipe are perfect, he’s just like The Soldier, taking orders without question, doing anything and everything we require of him. However, after that, he continuing gets better and better until, at twenty-four hours, he’s the same man he was before the wipe. We’re at eleven hours right now. It’s quite remarkable, really, the way the serum in his blood works, regenerating his brain cells again and again without fault.”

There was a sound of annoyance, and then there was a hand on his chin, lifting his head. Steve blinked blearily, his vision a little foggy, and looked up at the sort-of-familiar face now hovering in front of him. It was a man in suit, with glasses, who was looking at him curiously.

“Are you in there, Captain?” the man’s mouth moved and the words came out, but they seemed disconnected in Steve’s mind. Steve didn’t know how to reply to the words, didn’t particularly understand what they meant, so he just stared back at the man and tried to remember where he’d seen him before. Nothing was clicking, so Steve gave up on trying, it would come back to him eventually. Probably…

Steve yanked against the metal bands restraining him to the chair, glaring at all of the technicians in the room. They all seemed to be waiting for something, none of them meeting his eyes. Frankly, Steve didn’t really know why they weren’t wiping him again, that’s what they always did when he fully regained himself again. Steve didn’t quite know why, if they knew he was going to get his fully memory back after twenty-four hours, why keep trying? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Finally, the door to the room slid open and in walked man named Aiden Black, the freaking head of Hydra. He was dressed, as per usual, in a tailored three-piece suit. Redhead female came in behind him, in her normal fitted black shirt and pants, and black leather jacket. “Good morning, Captain. I trust you slept well?” Black said congenially, hands in his trouser pockets. Steve simply glared back, scowling, not giving them any response. At his lack of answer, Black simply shrugged. “Ah, well. It doesn’t matter. I’m here to talk to you about your new and complete loyalty to Hydra.”

Steve couldn’t help but scoff at that. “You’re out of your goddamn mind if you actually think that I’m going to ever be loyal to Hydra. I won’t do a single thing for you, Black.”

Black just gave a knowing smile and tilted his head. “We’ll see about that. Bring him in!” Suddenly, the door slid open again and few soldiers walked in, looking slightly smug, which was a little disconcerting considering the circumstances. Behind one of the soldiers was another man. The man had shoulder-length brown hair and a metal arm, but that wasn’t the weirdest thing Steve had ever seen and the man’s face…

Oh shit.

“B-Bucky?” Steve stuttered out.

It was Bucky, but, at the same time, it wasn’t. His face was expressionless, his eyes staring lifelessly at the wall far behind Steve. His arms hung loosely at his sides, fingers not even twitching as he stood, perfectly still. There was something so… blank about him, something so dead, that it made a shudder run up Steve’s spine.

“Quite the sight, isn’t he?” Black said proudly, going to stand by Bucky’s side. He put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder and Steve yanked against his bindings at the sight, snarling and gnashing his teeth like a wild animal. “His arm, it’s been modified throughout the years as the world had a lot of technological advances, but it’s quite similar to the original model.”

Seeing Bucky standing in front of him was life changing, even though Bucky wasn’t quite himself.

“You’re a smart man, Captain Rogers, I’m sure you can put the pieces together. How does Mr. Barnes fit into your new loyalty to us?” The blonde snarled, understanding perfectly. “If I don’t cooperate, if I don’t do everything you say, you’ll hurt him. You’ll hurt Bucky.”

Black nodded, satisfied. “Exactly, Captain Rogers, you got it in one. Now, you are going to be released from that chair, and you are not going to attack anyone. If you do, well, you will be subdued and Mr. Barnes will be hurt. Have I made myself clear?” Steve nodded, resigned and Black nodded to one of the technicians, who pushed a couple buttons on his computer and the metal bands holding Steve down snapped open. Steve immediately jumped to his feet and rushed to Bucky’s side, murmuring his name.

Black took a few steps towards the door, and then turned back. “Oh, one last thing, Captain Rogers. Hidden away in Mr. Barnes’s metal arm is not only a tracking devise that works anywhere in the world, but an explosive devise that will make him and anything within two-hundred feet of him go boom. So I want to make myself very clear, Captain, if you try to escape, whether you’re on mission with Mr. Barnes or just hanging about this facility, I will not hesitate to push a button and make sure you won’t even be able to scrape pieces of him off the sidewalk, he’ll be so demolished.”

There was a pause, and then Aiden Black smiled, completely at ease. “I look forward to us working together, Captain.”

Author: Beast

The chronicles of the winter || Part VIII

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI  || Part VII continuation of imagine

Summary:  Bucky and Steve are still at Hydra's base. Days are passing by and their situation isn't changing. But Bucky seems to not care about it. He cares about something else. Or rather SOMEONE...

Word Count: 4296

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex

From then on out Steve’s training really began. Each day he had lessons in German, Russian, tactics, as well as weaponry training and different forms of hand-to-hand. Steve’s least favorite lessons were the ones on the organization known as SHIELD, because apparently his friends were the founders, and he absolutely hated the idea of working to destroy something they’d built, even if it was for the sake of Bucky. Steve wasn’t sure, how much time had passed since they were kidnapped. Days were blending into each other. Everyday he was wiped again, they wanted to stay in control over him, but Rogers remembered. Everything from his previous life. Steve was given a list of SHIELD’s top agents, Hydra’s own little ‘Most Wanted’ list, and forced to memorize all of their strengths and weaknesses, and how best to take them down. The months passed slowly. Steve rarely saw Bucky, since most of the time they kept him in something called cryo, which was basically them just freezing him to keep him in stasis and make him live longer. However, whenever Bucky was off cryo, Steve tried to make him feel like as much of a person as possible, sitting with him while he ate and training with him. It made Steve very sad to do, since Bucky was unresponsive to everything he said unless he phrased it as an order, which Steve absolutely refused to do.

One day, five months after seeing Bucky for the first time since they had been kidnapped, Steve had just gotten back from a mission and was grabbing a bite to eat in the small kitchen off the gym. He preferred it because he could be alone with his thoughts, instead of in the large mess hall. Then Bucky entered. It wasn’t that unusual, Bucky usually got his meals from that kitchen, too, when he was awake. So Steve said hello to him like he always did, not expecting a reply. Bucky turned and stared directly at Steve after grabbing a sandwich. Steve stared back, surprised, Bucky’s gaze rarely narrowed in on Steve, even if he was looking at him he wasn’t focused on Steve. But in that moment… he was.“Buck?” Steve ventured cautiously, putting down his bowl of cereal and taking a few steps closer to his friend. “Do you…do you see me, Bucky?”“I know you” Bucky said absently, voice rough from disuse. The words were a statement, but the way his voice went up at the end made it seem like a question.“Yeah, Buck” Steve said, unable to keep the relief from his voice. He walked closer until he was right in front of Bucky, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky’s eyes darted from that hand and back to Steve’s eyes. “Yeah, you know me. I’m your friend."Bucky was silent for a minute, the seconds ticking away in Steve’s head, and then he spoke again."Your mother… her name was Sarah?” Steve grinned and nodded eagerly. “And my sister…her name was Rebecca?” Once again Steve nodded. “Steve?"Steve didn’t wait any longer, he pulled Bucky into a hug at the vulnerable turn of his words, holding him tightly against his chest. "I’ve got you, Buck. I’m with you 'till the end of the line.”

After that, Bucky began remembering much more, becoming more and more like himself each day. There would be times when something triggered him and he would fall back into The Winter Soldier mode, practically erasing all of their progress. But he always came back to himself, sometimes after an hour, sometimes after a week, but he always came back. They did their best to keep it hidden from the Hydra agents, but anyone with eyes could see that most of the time Bucky was there, the lifeless stare he used to adjurn completely gone. Steve didn’t know why everyone was letting it go, even Black, while talking at Bucky like he always did, didn’t comment on the new Bucky.

Bucky was sleeping in his small room at the second floor of the Complex Zero. It was one of these moments when he could has his own makeshift of a freedom. Suddenly he heard a loud, annoying noise. An alarm. Bucky slowly opened his eyes, he sat at the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes. His door has been opened by one of the soldiers. ‘Move your fucking ass, Winter, there’s a fire in the warehouse of ammunition" man has said, before he ran further to wake others up. Bucky quickly put on a grey tight shirt and black, military pants. On top he put his tactical bulletproof vest, just in case. He left the room and apace he ran to the point of an ingathering. Most of the guards, soldiers and technicians were there yet. In the crowd Bucky immediately noticed Steve. Brunette went to the Captain, but before he could say anything, a huge explosion has interrupted them. Few men just fell on the ground covered in a snow, they have been hit by shards of a broken windows. Bucky noticed few more familiar figures on the horizon. Aiden Black, his two loyal soldiers and a redhead woman. They were running into the direction of the square, where rest of the people were gathered. Almost as soon as the lightning had struck the little building, the world became illuminated. In the distance,  everyone could see a thick gray smoke billowing into the skies. The once pale blue sky was now shielded by a veil of darkness as the smoke swallows up the whole sky. Bucky blinked few times, before he spoke.“What has happened?” he gave Steve a brief glance.“I’m not sure, Buck. I’ve heard as guards were saying it has to be someone from us who set fire to here” Steve’s voice was trembling a bit, from emotions. Bucky knew it was a brilliant chance to escape. In all that turmoil they could easily sneak out of the Complex and tried their luck in nearest wood. At the second hand, they were in a place they didn’t know. They could get lost, they could fall at one of Hydra’s little branches…There was too many options. To many potential dangers. Without a good plan even he an Steve wouldn’t make it. A plume of fire exploded into the blackness, the flame rolling outwards like the smoke of a mushroom cloud. It was an inferno fuelled by the gallons of accelerant in the warehouse. The heat was oppressive even from two hundred yards away. The onlookers had been excited at first, snapping pictures to upload to friends and generally behaving like a crowd on bonfire night. But then a subtle shift in the wind direction brought noxious smoke and ash raining down into their hair and eyes. With hands and clothing clamped to their mouths they tried to hide somewhere, while the management called for a help of firefighters. Meantime, the newborn flames licked the oxygen with their wrath and fury. Refusing to be contained, they danced orange and yellow reaching hungrily for fuel. After few more moments the fire overtook the main building. Everyone witnessed the fire swallow the entire building. Toxic fumes shot up into the air every few seconds and the thick, poisonous smoke choked everyone nearby. Fortunately, no one got harmed in the fire. Whole headquarter’s building has been destroyed completely.That was the reason, because of which Black decided to move all people to the little city named Yuryung-Khaya.

Owing to the extreme northern location, Yuryung-Khaya had a cold and dry polar climate with severely cold winters and cool summers. The village was situated on the right bank of the Anabar River, shortly before it flows into the Laptev Sea. The village economy was based around agriculture, specifically reindeer herding, fishing and other farming. It was just a perfect place to ran organization like Hydra. Villagers weren’t interested in a newcomers, they all had their own stuff to deal with. It turned, that Hydra was preparing that localization since rather long time period. A three miles behind the village a huge military complex has been built. It even had its own airport. But it was only a cover, just in case if some of the villagers would be too curious. The real base was located a mile aside of the complex. From the outside the secret base appeared to be an abandoned storage barn. Rusty barrels of noxious chemicals were littered around the entrance, each labelled with a skull and crossbones. Tall weeds grew between the stones and the fence was almost falling over, hardly high security. Nobody cared about what was above ground. Underground it was a different story. There was a maze of titanium rooms, each either buzzing with computers or loaded with the latest in weaponry. Every inch was recorded by security cameras and the staff wore electronic chips under their skin. Guards came and went through the tunnel that lead into the back of a complex. There were several different room types. Bucky quickly had to deal with one of them, namely the interrogation room. As Steve, he was suspected to set a fire to the Complex Zero and he had to be interrogated. By Aiden Black himself..The room was small and square, with two plastic chairs, a table and an empty water dispenser. The window is cracked, allowing a faint but pleasant smell of moisture into the room. The window was located just beneath ceiling. The view was at the little meadow above the underground complex. The walls were cream and bare. The light outside was now fading, the watery sun shining a single, dust-laden bar of brightness into the room. Barnes pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, his body immediately uncomfortable, his tongue already asking for a drink of water. His throat was tight and sticky with kind of a fear.

The door opened and slammed shut, making the brunette jump a little with the only slack he had. “Good day, soldier. I am here to interrogate you. Do you understand?“ it was Aiden Black, dressed in a black tight suit with a grey shirt under his jacket. Bucky nodded slowly, he didn’t want to have troubles, so he was trying to be as polite as he only could. “Tell me, Barnes, who set the fire to Complex Zero?” the man said crankily seating himself into the chair opposite to Bucky. Barnes stayed silent. "TELL ME” Black repeated sternly. Bucky felt coldness envelope him, but no darkness came. Suddenly Black rose from his chair and leaned forward, he wrapped his large hands around the Bucky’s throat and squeezed. He easily raised brunette off the ground. Bucky kicked and squirmed, but it was no use. Just as his vision went blurry, two uniformed men came in, and Black dropped him to the ground. "I know you had something in common with that fucking situation” Black growled slowly, his glance still at Bucky. After a moment of silence he was lead out while Bucky sat, panting for breath.

Several days have passed.

The winter wind howled through the desolate marsh. The bleak grey cloud overhead reflected perfectly his grey mood inside. These short days, these long nights. The world seemed to lie barren and lifeless before him as if God himself had put it to sleep.

Bucky was spending his days mostly at trainings. If he had some free time, he was walking around the Complex, trying to find himself something productive to do.

At the dinner, when all people were gathered in a social canteen, Steve and Bucky were sitting at the single table, enjoying their meal.

All talks have faded in a second, when the redhead woman entered the canteen. She was an adult, but so young that she still had the exuberance of youth. She had that movie star look, not overly tall and willowy, but more like an action star. Her muscle definition was perfect and she walked with the confidence of someone a decade older. She wasn’t just flawless in her bone structure, her skin was like silk over glass and she radiated an intelligent beauty. She was holding a cup of cappuccino in her hand and she brought a newspaper with her under her arm. She took a place at the table in the left corner of the room and she started to read as soon as she sat down.

Steve noticed that Bucky became soundless. “Buck.. is everything alright?” blonde asked carefully, not taking his eyes of his friend.

Bucky mumbled something, waving his hand. His eyes were still at the redhead. He couldn’t take his eyes of her. She was stunning and with every day he was finding himself more interested in that woman.

She was definitely his type of ideal woman. Strong, confident, but charming and delicate at the same moment.

Steve smiled sadly. “You know she’s by THEIR side” he reminded gently, putting his palm at Bucky’s shoulder. “Don’t waste your time, Buck. It’s not a woman for you”

Bucky has been dragged out of his thoughtfulness by Steve’s words. Brunette turned his head to Rogers and frowned a bit. “Stop it, Steve. Let me decide by my own, what’s good and what’s bad for me” Bucky’s face tensed as he sighed deeply, he ran his fingers through his thick hair. Steve shook his head slightly. “Easy, Bucky… I just meant you should think before you’ll engage yourself too much in that” Captain measured Bucky with his blue eyes. “I just wanted to give you my advice..” “But I wasn’t asking for it” Bucky snarled coldly and got up from the table, leaving his unfinished meal. “I wanna be alone” he added quietly.

Bucky went straight to the door to the canteen, but before he left, he stopped in a door frame. He felt a blustery glance on himself, so he turned his head to check, who was looking at him.

Bucky’s heart raced a bit when he realized, it was the redhead woman, who was observing him.

He spent rest of the evening at a workout. He worked out until his skin took on a glossy shine and the salty drops invaded his eyes. As he kept moving the sweat was a welcome addition, cooling and helping him to feel like he has been working hard enough.

That was when he heard the door has opened with a characteristic creak. Bucky lifted his head and looked back above his shoulder. He tried to keep his face straight, but it was hard.

Few steps from him a redhead woman was standing, crossing her arms at her chest.

“What the hell do you want?” He asked, trying to sound as cold as always. “I’m kinda busy.” Woman smirked a bit, standing still. “I have to drive to the city. Some kind of business. I need a help.” Bucky frowned in a confusion. “And how am I supposed to help ya?” man asked coldly, pulling up a barbells. Redhead rolled her eyes, still standing in a place. “I need a ride. I don’t have a driving licence” she explained openly, taking lock of her hair behind an ear. Bucky let out a wryly laugh before he spoke. “And what I’ll receive in a repayment?” brunette asked simply, not looking at the woman. She laughed harshly. “You’ll gain a few hours outside a base. It’s a aboveboard deal, isn’t it?” she said. “I can guarantee, that you won’t regret it.”

Bucky was thinking for a while, pretending he wasn’t interested at all. But deep inside his soul there was a war between different emotions. Call of a freedom was much stronger then he thought, though.

“Deal.” Bucky looked briefly at her. He put barbells down and stretched his back. Redhead woman gave him a little smile. “I’m glad we have an agreement.”

She was about leaving the room, but before she did, redhead turned to face brunette once again. “By the way, my name is Emily Vandom” her mouth corners raised a bit. “See you at 8pm at the main gate.”

She left him in a thoughtfulness, exhausted by a hard workout.

He came on tick.

She was waiting at him, sitting on a hood of a black old Mustang. As soon as Emily spotted Bucky, she jumped off the hood with ease. She was dressed in a tight short black dress and high heels.

She measured him with an interested glance. “Hi” she greeted Bucky, tilting her head. “Nice jacket.”

Bucky was dressed rather casually. It was something new, because he used to wear only military pants and oversized t-shirts. But now he had a black boots, tight dark jeans and grey tight shirt under black leather jacket.

Emily threw keys at him and he easily caught them. Woman turned around and got to the car, taking a passenger seat next to the driver.

When they were driving to the city, he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “Where exactly are ya going?” Bucky asked, he was focused on a gravely road. Emily, who was leaning her forearm against the window, mumbled. “It’s none of your business” she said simply, not even looking at him. Bucky was silent for a while. “Hey. I’m involved. I’m here, driving you, so I’m expecting at least a bit of sincerity” man growled with an annoyance. Emily sighed deeply. “If I will tell you, I’ll have to kill you” her voice was soft as always. Bucky rolled his eyes. They stayed silent till the end of the drive.

After some time, Emily came out of the little building. They were somewhere in a city, car has been parked at the little parking lot as brunette was waiting at her. Bucky was leaning his metal limb on a roof of the car, smoking a cigarette. He heard clicking of her Hugh heels and he turned to her. “Finally"he rolled his eyes.

They both got in the car. He put the key in the ignition and started it up. The loud rumble of the engine began to “PURRRRRRRR”.

He put the window down, turned the music up and they were off to begin their way back to the Complex.

"Wait..” Emily bit her lower lip. “Listen.. I don’t want to go back there. Not yet at least” she dared to gave him a look. Bucky lifted his brow a bit. “What do you mean?” Emily stretched her forearms. “There’s a little cosy pub nearby. C'mon. Let’s have few drinks. I need it. And I bet you do too.”

Bucky wasn’t thinking too long. He agreed on her proposition, only because he also didn’t want to go back to base. The night was still young.

They had a good time together. And Bucky had to admit, that this woman was spinning his head round and round. She even managed to pull him on a little dance floor, where they were swaying into rhythm of a music. Bucky caught himself at grabbing Emily’s hips a bit too roughly in that dance, but girl didn’t seem to mind it.

The drinks began flowing and  the sexual desire for one another became unbearable. They swiftly closed their bar tab and headed back to the black Mustang.

Once they were in the car, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her close. “Let’s go have some fun” he said in a low voice. Emily looked hardly into his blue eyes, she bit inside of her cheek, but she gave a nod. They peeled out of the parking lot and drove off into the night. They turned down an old dirt road. He put the stang in first gear and let off the gas.

She then leaned over, unhooked his belt and started to unbutton his pants. She unzipped his pants and pulled out Bucky’s hard dick. She wrapped her lips around the tip and began to suck on it. She slid her tongue down the side of his stiff shaft. All the way down to his balls. Up and down… Up and down his cock went down her throat. “Yes, babe that’s it” Bucky moaned loudly. She felt Bucky grabbed a handful of her hair and pull it tight. He pressed down on the back of her head, forcing his dick to slide closer to the back of Emily’s throat. She spit on his cock, making it so wet, then she opened her mouth wider and went back to work.

He yelled. “Yes, baby, yes, don’t stop! Don’t you dare to stop, little bitch!“ She felt his dick pulsating as she moved slowly up to the tip to take in his warm seamen "Oh, fuck!” he grunted and began to erupt his load into her mouth. She smiled as she swallowed his cum, slowly licking corners of her mouth. “You taste good..” she whispered, lifting herself up to kiss him passionately. He could still tasted himself on her rosy lips..

He opened the door and got out. He walked around to her side and opened the door. He got down on his knees, grabbing her legs and pulled them toward him. He pushed her back against the console. Bucky gripped her hips and pulled them closer. He slided up her tight dress and pulled down her lacy panties. Slowly he rubbed his hands up her thighs and forced her legs to open. “Now it’s your turn..” Bucky said as he began to bury his face into her yet wet pussy.

“Oh yes!” Emily moaned as he hit the right spot.   It felt so good to feel his tongue circling around on her clit. He was more than experienced. “Your pussy is so wet” he mumbled between licks. Emily felt how his strong hands were squeezing her breast tightly. She felt as he was sucking on her clit as he sticked two of his fingers into her pussy and thrusted them in and out. “Yes.. Yes.. Right there..” she begged, diving her long fingers into his brown hair. She grabbed the back of his head and forced him to go deeper. Emily’s legs began to shake as she feel her orgasm.

“I want you to cum in my mouth” he asked openly, licking still as viciously as at the beginning. Her whole body became numb as she went through her orgasm and released her hot wet cum all over his face.

Slowly he stopped moving his tongue and began to softly suck on her pussy. He gave her pussy one last kiss as he knew he has satisfied her.

Bucky stood up and took off his shirt and he pulled his cock out of his jeans. He pulled her out the car and ripped off her dress. “Mmm… you have a tattoo..” he moaned into her ear from behind.

Emily had a tattoo in a shape of a wolf between her blade-bones.

Emily felt her ass was pressed against the stang as she was forced against the front of the car. He turned her around and bended her naked body over the top of the hood. Bucky spreader her legs and slowly slided his penis into her tight wet pussy.

“Fuck!” Emily couldn’t help but yelled loudly as soon as he went into her deeper and deeper. His dick felt amazing inside her and she craved more.

“I love your tight pussy” he growled as he squeezed her ass and pounded into her deeper. “You’re fucking hot, slut” he moved his metal arm at her breasts, squeezing them harshly.

She felt his dick throbbing in her as he went faster and faster. She didn’t want him to stop…

He pulled her up and turned her around toward him. He put her on the hood of the car. As she laid down she felt him pulling her ass toward him. She wrapped her legs around him and quenched her thighs tightly.   He grabbed a hold of Emily’s hips and slided his cock back in. “Ahhhh!“ she heard him grunted as he got the whole thing in. Redhead felt like his balls were hitting her ass.

“Harder” she moaned aloud. She didn’t care there was cold outside. She only cared of being fucked harder. Emily felt her pussy was getting wetter and wetter as she was nearing her orgasm.

“I want you to cum all over my cock, slut” Bucky’s voice was nothing more than an order. "Yes, soldier” Emily closed her eyes, trying to hold a pleasure back. But she couldn’t hold it any longer.

“Fuck, I’m Cumming!” she cried heavily as she felt her warm cum was gushing onto him.

Bucky started pounding in her harder and deeper. Faster and faster “Babe, I’m gonna cum..” Bucky grabbed her hips  tightly, squeezing them hardly, especially with his metal hand. He rammed it deep in her for one last time before he cum.

Their seductive, erotic, lustful fantasies finally had been fulfilled.

Bucky leaned down and kissed her roughly, pulling her closer by her waist. “You’re so fucking hot, Emily..”

Woman blinked. He used her name.

She felt a blush appeared on her cheeks, so she gently pushed him back and jumped of the hood, grabbing her dress and putting it on as fast as she could.

Bucky also improved himself, he put on his shirt before he turned to face her. Zipping his jeans, he measured her body with lustful glance.

“Bucky..” She swallowed, standing with her back to him. “I.. we shouldn’t..” But she wasn’t able to end her sentence.

Barnes came to her, he took her into his arms and turned her to him, then he leaned down and kissed her beautiful lips. She melted in that kiss. She wanted it to last forever…

It was a new beginning. A new start. For both of them.

Author: Beast

BE QUIET || BUCKY X READER ONE SHOT

Summary: You are a young recruit in Hydra’s structures. The Winter Soldier are your trainer. One day, after a rough training, you both get laid, but on the conditions specified by him.

Word Count: 1344

Warnings: smut, cursing

Author: Rouge

“Move your ass, Y/N!” Winter Soldier yelled loudly.

You rolled your eyes as you were making push ups.

“Fuck you” you sighed under your breath.

“What did you say, pussy?” Bucky was standing next to you, watching carefully your every movement.

“Nothing” you made one last push up and slowly you got up.

 Feeling his pertinacious gaze on you, you dared to look into his blue eyes.

You spreaded your arms with a deep sigh.

“What have I done this time, huh? I followed any of yours orders, sergeant” you let out a gasp.

“Yea. Too slow” he only said, unzipping his hoodie. “In such pace you never will pass the main exams” Bucky crossed his arms behind his back.

“Sergeant, as far as I know..” you started, being about argue with him.

“Shut the fuck up, cunt” Bucky snorted. “I don’t fucking care if you’ll make them or not. But if you’re gonna fail, I’ll be responsible for that and I’m gonna be punished as well” he clinched his metal hand, glaring at you. “And now, Y/N, get back on a mat and make another 100 push ups” he ordered coldly.

“But..” you almost screamed, however in the end you nodded and took your place. You started to make push ups again and Bucky was observing you.

 Suddenly you felt coldness on your left hip. Metal hand has pushed you a bit down.

“Deepen moves, Y/N, it will be more efficient” Winter Soldier said in a harsh voice of his.

You gave a slight nod and did what he ordered. However an uninterrupted touch of his hand on your hip was slowly annoying you.

After around 20 repetitions of push ups, you decided to tell him what you were thinking about.

“Can you take your hand off?” you asked.

But there was no respond.

 But after a while you felt a metal hand on your throat.

“I can not” Bucky whispered directly into your ear, leaning down toward you.

He grabbed you by waist and pulled you up. Then he grabbed your chin and forced you to turn your head to face him and then he kissed your lips roughly.

In first second you protested, trying to push him away, but with a little effect. With his metal hand he grabbed your wrists and held your hands in place.

“Don’t” he only said between kisses.

When he stopped, you looked at him, shaking a bit. From shock, but also from strange kind of a pleasure.

“What the fuck?” you asked angrily. “Who do you think you are?!”

But instead of reply, you have been pulled closer to him. He kissed you again, this time he left your hands free. His hands has been placed at your butt and he gave it a little squeeze.

“I am your fucking superior” he snapped. “And really. You’re such an annoying little bitch. I have never had someone like you at  trainings. So stubborn. You think you’re better, don’t ya?” he was whispering into your ear, you could feel his unshaven cheek on your own one.

You swallowed loudly, clinching hands in fists.

“Fuck you” you snorted, turning your head aside.

“Oh, no, doll. FUCK YOU. And I’m gonna do this. I know you want it too.”

You looked over him, your brow slowly moved up.

“Are you joking?” you asked. “I would never have sex with someone like you.”

He only smirked viciously.

“We’ll see. I always get what I want. Believe me, you won’t regret.”

 Without a hesitation he simply slipped his metal hand into your shorts.

You whimpered, trying to take step back, but with his other hand he held you by your waist.

You felt his metal fingers slipped under your panties. He rubbed over your clit and you let out a little subdued moan.

“I..” you started but he growled.

“Don’t. Don’t you even try to say a fucking word. Otherwise you’ll be able to see my other face and I can guarantee it’s the last thing you would like to see” Bucky ordered.

You felt a pleasure, which was spreading all over your body, so you nodded slightly, letting him to do what the hell he wanted to.

He was rubbing over your clit to finally slipped two of his metal fingers into your yet wet pussy.

You closed your eyes, holding back a moan which was about  leave your mouth.

Bucky smiled only as he started to kiss your neck. He was slipping his fingers in and out of your pussy and you started to buck your hips a bit to meet his thrusts.

You looked into his eyes, feeling a blush on your cheeks.

You would never say, that something like that can happen. Especially between both of you. Instinctively you put your hand on his belt, undoing it as fast as you could. The you undone his fly too.

After a while both of you were laying on the mat.

He ripped off your clothes, not even trying to be gentle. Then he licked over your yet hard nipples and he slowly moved down, straight to your swollen pussy.

You slipped hands in his dark hair as he started to lick your clit, slipping his metal fingers in again.

You wanted to scream as he was hitting the right spot, but you were obedient and you stayed calm as he ordered you before.

You only bucked your hips, trying to meet his moves.

He looked over at you, still eagerly licking on your clit.

Biting your lips almost to blood, you only nodded giving him a sign that it was something you have wanted. Bucky only smiled and came back to suck on your clit. You threw your head back as he cupped your boob with his free hand.

Oh, how much you wanted to moan. How much you wanted to call his name and to say aloud how much you liked what he was doing to you…

You started to shake as you felt, how your orgasm was overwhelming you.

Finally he stopped and moved up to kiss your lips. You could still taste yourself on his rough lips.

You gave kiss back and you pushed him down on the mat. You tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing his yet hard cock. You licked your lips before he took him into your mouth. Bobbing your head up and down, you were massaging his base at the same time. You felt like his metal palm was slipped into your long hair. You looked over him and you noticed, how turned he was. Observing each of your movements, he was clinching teeth to not moan also. You smiled a bit and increased your pace. It was until he cum in your mouth. You swallowed everything.

Bucky grabbed your wrists an pulled you on top of him. You climbed on his lap and put his cock into your pussy.

You just needed to feel him inside of you.

From the beginning you bucked your hips fast, tangled your fingers with his.

Bucky placed his metal hand on your hip, urging you to make a faster moves.

You both desperately wanted to cum.

He lifted his upper body part and started to lick on your nipples as you were moving up and down, letting his cock slid as deeply as it was possible.

And finally you both came at the same time. You felt his warm semen in your pussy and you closed your eyes, enjoying that feeling.

You wanted to scream his name, but a kiss was everything you could have at that moment.

 When it was after all, you put on your clothes.

“When we have next training?” you asked, smiling rather rudely.

Winter Soldier raised his mouth corners in a grin.

“Next week. Why are you asking? I thought you don’t like our trainings though.”

You rolled your eyes and smirked viciously.

“Let’s say I like them since now.”

Bucky smirked and watched as you left the gym.

The chronicles of the winter || Part IX

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI || Part VII || Parta VIII continuation of imagine

Summary: Steve’s mission went wrong… Very wrong.

Word Count: 2194

Warnings: Blood, injuries

Author: Beast

Since their common evening, Emily hasn’t spoken with Bucky at all.

He saw her few times. They passed each other like a ghosts at the corridors of the complex. Everytime when Bucky wanted to ask the woman, what exactly has changed between two of them that they couldn’t even talk for a while, Emily was simply passing him by, don’t even looking at him.

He easily could feel that everything has changed.

Deep inside he knew he shouldn’t have been doing that. He shouldn’t let her seduce him, it just couldn’t end well.

Bucky’s contact with Steve also has been restricted.

Their supervisors seemed to do everything to separate men from each other.

Bucky could also feel kind of a distance, which has built up between him and Steve.

Another week has passed and Bucky confirmed himself in a premonition that something was wrong.

While he was looking for Steve, he heard a conversation between two of the guards in canteen.

“… with her” one of them said simply, drinking coffee.

“I would give everything to be at his place at the moment” second man chuckled. “She’s pretty hot.” “Of course she’s” guard who was drinking the coffee stretched his back. “Rogers is a fucking lucky dude, isn’t he?”

“Don’t ya remember? He’s not Rogers anymore. They said he’s called Captain Hydra now” older guy shrugged.

Bucky frowned, listening to this little conversation. He realized that Steve has to be outside the complex. And… Was he with Emily? Have they had a mission? But Steve would tell him… Why he didn’t?

Bucky, however, felt a cold shrink in his heart.

EMILY. She also went away without farewell. Without single word. Why both of them were treating him like that?

He couldn’t find an answer.

One day, Bucky has been taken to the small room at one of the lowest levels of the complex.

There was three man awaiting at him. Two doctors and no one else but Aiden Black himself.

“Good morning, soldier” man in a suit smirked viciously.

Bucky didn’t say a word, he simply took a seat in front of the man.

“Why are you so silent, soldier?” Black pretended a concern.

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky simply asked.

Black raised his mouth corners in a haughty grin.

“He left. He has more important things to do instead sitting here with you” man said.

Bucky snapped his head to face Aiden Black again.

“Liar” Barnes gasped loudly. “Steve’s my friend. He wouldn’t…”

Black smirked again.

“Funny” Black mused with a sick smile, getting dangerously close to Bucky’s face, “wasn’t that exactly the same thing that you said the first time when Hydra found you?” he laughed harshly. “Face it, Barnes. Steve Rogers’ dead. Now he’s the Captain Hydra and he’s working for us and only for us” man in suit got up from his seat and walked slowly around the room. “Nothing can bring him back” Black finally stopped behind Bucky’s back and he put his large hands and Winter Soldier’s shoulders. Black also leaned down and whispered directly into Bucky’s ear. “And as I suppose he’s having a lot of fun with your Em.”

The last statement was like a sharp blade of a knife stabbed into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky responded with spitting in Black’s smirking face.

Of course, as always when he wasn’t behaving like they would wanted, he was greeted with violence, but that didn’t matter.

“Now, get some rest, soldier” Aiden growled slowly, wiping flecks of Bucky’ blood of off his hands. “We have work to do.”

When Black left the room, Bucky yelled aloud, hitting the table in front of him with his metal fist.

Evening had long since fallen, the chill of night picking at the edges of his meager jacket as he silently made his way through the quieting city. Captain Hydra was walking, passing closed shops and tracing streets he didn’t know.

He had a mission to do and he didn’t want to let his supervisors down. Steve had to kill a director of some organization named Robrax. It was kind of a pharmaceutical industry enterprise. Hydra was willing to do anything, just to overtake some researches results. Steve only knew they have wanted to make a new biological weapon.

He knew he should be careful, because, following the information he got, it seemed that other organization has wanted him for their own businesses.

Being in a deep thoughtfulness, he easily got at the terrain of the restricted area.

The building was oh so large. White walls and glazed doors were giving that real estate more dignity then he thought in a first moment. With a knife in his hand, he quietly slipped into a large building. He sneaked unheeded next to the guard’s place and he headed directly into the office number 10, located at the second floor.

Taking a staircase, he reached the floor and when he checked that no body’s there, he slowly stepped at the corridor. He went along it until he found a door with a gold numbers on them. Steve opened them and walked inside. Immediately he noticed the man he was looking for.

Dressed in a black suit, guy was sitting in the leather chair, making some notes. Fortunately for Steve, man was facing him with his back.

Captain Hydra walked over to his target and as quickly as he could, he put his palm at man’s mouth to cut over his throat in the next second. It didn’t take long for man to bleed out.

Steve, as soon as he made sure man’s dead, he left the room, putting his knife back into his pocket. He also easily managed to leave the building.

It was first time when he killed someone because of an order. Deep inside the last degraded ounce of his morality was trying to convince him that he was making a huge mistake. But he pushed those thoughts away.

He walked slowly along the street, heading to his apartment, which Hydra has rented for him. The barking of a dog jarred him from his thoughts, body suddenly tense and eyes, hard as steel and just as cold, scanning his surroundings for any threat as he stopped in his tracks. His knife was produced from his pocket, not as large but just as deadly in his capable hands. 

Another noise caught his attention. Footsteps, ten feet behind to the right. His mind was just methodical and calculating. Fingers tightened around the handle of the combat knife, although he showed no outward signs of realizing he was being approached; to any passersby it merely looked as if he was staring off into the jeweled skyline. The darkness would either be a great hindrance or a welcome advantage, but only time would tell..

Click. The sound of the safety switching off of a pistol was all the prompting Steve needed. Moving with a speed unexpected in his depleted state he spun around. A great blaze of light and concussive sound filled the street, the weapon discharging as Steve plunged his knife deep into the chest of his would-be assailant. In that quarter second of movement he had searched, located and struck, the metal blade deftly gliding between ribs and into a lung. The air filled with the sharp scent of copper and iron as blood poured from the wound.

Steve quickly realized it was one of the guards from Robrax.

The haphazard discharge of the weapon had blasted a round into the sidewalk, the sound of it no doubt alerting every person within a two block radius. I need to escape.

The man collapsing into a pool of his own blood, not dead but not quite alive.

If there was one there had to be more, he thought, and they had to be coming for him. He made it two steps before he heard the crack of a sniper rifle, echoing off some far-off building. The next few seconds blurred together, but he remembered being knocked off his feet, air forced from his lungs as he hit the brick wall of the building next to him, knife clamoring from his hand. Heat blossomed on his back, a burst of wet crimson that trickled down his spine as a bullet planted itself squarely into his right shoulder blade. The choking cry of surprise that escaped him startled him.

The pain hadn’t hit him yet, but his body felt like ice. His legs were sluggish underneath him as he struggled to his feet, bolting into an alleyway as he heard another bullet slam into the wall behind him. It’d been a low shot, as if for his leg. They want me alive. The thought filled him with a sick dread as he realized that they wanted to put him back on his leash, or worse, put him down so he couldn’t spill their secrets, although he had no secrets to tell. At least, not as he was now.

Shouts of men filled the street. “Down the alleyway!” and “He’s getting away!” among other things he couldn’t catch. The pain was starting to filter into his awareness, starting as an acidic heat that slowly built in on itself. His heart was pounding, lungs heaving, as he tried to lose the guard’s team in the maze of back alley streets. He needed to get to the apartment.

As he rounded a corner, two guardians spotted him, shouting loudly to others. A swear hissed under his breath, narrowly avoiding another bullet aimed for his legs. His reflexes were slowing, he could feel it, his strength draining from the wound the harder he pushed himself. A pistol was produced from his pocket, only two rounds fired with the same deadly precision he had used to change history numerous times. The first man dropped in a heap, not even getting the luxury to realize he had been hit. The other’s ribs popped wetly as the bullet tore open his side, letting out a ghastly cry as he tumbled to the ground and didn’t get back to his feet.

Without a moment’s hesitation the Steve was gone, vanishing into the darkness like the ghost he was before more of the guard’s team could arrive. Rain earlier in the day had slickened the streets, helping to hide his trail of blood as he snaked his way through the sleeping city. He had no idea how long he was running and barely had any recollection of where he was going, his body operating almost entirely on instinct by the time he reached that familiar building. His running had slowed to a staggering shamble, forcing his legs, which he lost feeling in about three minutes ago, to climb up the flight of stairs.

His breathing came with difficulty, his limbs heavy and blood like ice. The worn clothing he had been wearing was soaked through with his own blood, which still bubbled from the sniper’s bullet.

The door to the second floor apartment seemed like a nearly insurmountable obstacle. His glassed-over eyes darted from the knob to the floor, then to a small, out-of-place planter of tiny flowers. Barely a murmur of thought crossed his mind as he nudged it with his foot, exposing a key. He was too exhausted and in too much pain to question just why he believed there would have been a key there. The key was retrieved, clumsily inserted into the lock, and the door opened without protest; he could have kicked it open or picked the lock like last time, but he didn’t have the time or strength to attempt it.

With a soft clink of metal the key fell from his trembling fingers to the floor, shakily standing at the threshold taking great, heaving breaths. His vision was growing blurry and his hearing muffled, but after a moment of hesitation he stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him, the click of the lock oddly comforting. Movement in front of him, down the narrow hall, and he knew he wasn’t alone. The pistol was still clutched in his left hand. He tried to take another step but his body had had enough; the pistol dropped to the floor, abandoned, as he tried to steady himself by pressing that palm to the wall.

Something was spoken to him but he didn’t catch it, gaze lifting to where he’d seen the movement earlier. Someone was standing a few yards away now. He didn’t need to hear to know who it was. Breath was inhaled sharply, words attempted but failed.

Emily Vandom. 

His whole body was shaking; it felt like the world was collapsing in on itself all around him. Underneath all the pain was a faint, lingering disappointment. Pain washed his thoughts away, a low whimper in his throat betraying the fact he was injured. He was going to go down, he felt it, and not a moment later did his right leg buckle, his whole body collapsing with it. He fell into something warm and yielding, not hard floor like he expected, but he had no time to ponder it as the darkness closed in on him.

“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” || BUCKY ONE SHOT

Words: 1314 Warnings: a little bit of cursing Summary: Bucky wants to take a flight to Bucharest, unfortunately at the airport there are problems because of his metal limb. Sam and Steve need to calm their friend down, but it all goes wrong.. Requested by: anonymous Gif: x Author: Beast

The terminal gate had a large sitting area with the generic airport rows of chairs that were stuck together, some of which were already filled with a mix of waiting passengers, a few of them cheerfully optimistic while some looked irritated. The wide, glass windows afforded a great view of the planes outside.

Bucky was sitting at the chair, his legs crossed nicely as he was checking his phone and email. He cursed and checked his watch.

„I’m gonna kill ‘em” he grunted under his breath.

Standing up to stretch, he looked around the terminal gate and noticed that the number of people had dwindled. Bucky resisted the temptation to lick his lips, a nervous habit that he’d never lost.

He spotted Sam and Steve several minutes later.

“You both are late. AGAIN” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve been waiting for fucking two hours!

Steve approached Bucky and put his large hand at man’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Buck. There was a huge traffic jam” blonde said in a soft voice, trying to calm his buddy down.

Bucky only rolled his eyes.

“Fine. Can we go now? I don’t wanna miss a flight”.

Steve nodded and pulling out his documents, with Sam and Bucky by his side, he went to the airport check-in.

When their documents had been inspected, guys went in the direction of security’s machine to check upon metal stuff in their luggage.

The closer they were, the more stressed Bucky was.

“Steve, shit, I won’t pass it, ya know..” Bucky gently pointed at his left arm, carefully covered by a grey hoodie.

“Easy, Buck, we’re gonna make it” Steve patted his friend’s back, trying to give Bucky his support.

As soon as the trio stopped in front of the machine, they gave their bags to one of the guards to let them check it.

After a while, the tall man asked Steve to go through a metal detector.

Steve went through it without any problems and as soon as he did, he turned to gave Bucky a look. He knew his friend was a bit terrified.

Sam also went through the detector without any issues.

And then it was Bucky’s turn.

“Sir?” the tall guard looked at Bucky with a suspicious gaze. “Is everything alright? You can do it now.”

Bucky nodded nervously and after several deep breaths he slowly stepped through the machine.

As soon as he did, the detector started to beep like a crazy, signaling presence of metal with flashing of a little red light.

Another security guard approached Bucky and started to search him down.

“Pockets are clear” he said to other man dressed in an uniform.

It was until guard touched Bucky’s metal arm through his hoodie. Man frowned and glared up at Bucky.

“Sir. We need you to pull up your sleeve, please” guy said slowly, looking carefully at Bucky.

Barnes sighed deeply and gave a brief look to Steve, who only nodded.

Bucky slowly rolled up his sleeve, revealing his metal limb.

Two other security guards came to check upon Bucky’s metal arm.

“Uhm.. Sir.. Is that real or fake?” one of men, an older dude with glasses asked politely, blinking few times.

Bucky hesitated and as annoyed as he was, he mumbled quietly.

“Real.”

Guards gathered themselves in a little circle, whispering something among each other.

“I knew it’ll end up like this, Steve” Sam leaned to blonde man and chuckled softly.

“Shhh, Sam, not now” Steve raised his hand to give his friend a sign to be quiet.

Bucky was still standing in a place. He felt like an animal caught in a snares. Feeling glances of other people, who were looking at him out of curiosity, Bucky growled loudly.

“Ekhem. Shall we?” he gave an anxious look to the older guard.

Man nodded and took a deep breath.

“I am sorry sir, I am afraid we cannot let you through with that metal.”

Bucky blinked and instinctively looked at Steve with an imploring glance.

“I have to go with my friends” Barnes felt like an idiot saying this. “We have a flight to Bucharest.”

Was he trying to explain himself?!

Steve approached them and smiled gently.

“Yes. He’s with us. We have very important meeting there and we can’t miss this flight” Steve has shown his ticket to guards. “Please.”

The older man shook his head.

“I am sorry sir, it’s the main rule and we have to obey it.”

Steve was about saying something, when other guard cleared his throat.

“Sir” man looked at Bucky, “is there something you can do with this… metal limb?”

Bucky blinked and shook his head.

“No. Don’t think so, for fuck’s sake..”

“Oh yes, he can!” it was no one else but Sam who stand next to Steve. “Buck, you can reattach it.”

“Oh, for sure, little fucker!” Bucky growled aloud, causing the guards gave him an odd glances. “Ya know I can’t do it now!”

Sam giggled.

“Easy, man, trying to give ya some idea” Falcon shrugged with a cheeky grin on his lips.

Oh, how much Bucky was hating that grin!

It caused his rage increased within seconds.

“Fuck you, Sam!” Bucky blew a hit in Falcon’s shoulder, but Sam blocked his hit.

Guards immediately came in between two men to separate them from each other.

“EASY!” the older man shouted. He turned his face to Bucky. “Is there any chance for you to reattach that metal limb now?” he asked.

“I’ve been telling you that no! For fuck’s sake, are you deaf, man!?” Bucky jerked, trying to free his hand from grasp of security guards.

Falcon only laughed, looking how frustrated Bucky was.

“You can try to put your hand up in the air and go through that machine again!” he laughed from his own joke. “Maybe it’ll work, huh?”

Steve punched Sam’s shoulder, making an angry face and narrowing his brows.

“Sam, stop, don’t make it worse!”

But Falcon’s comment made Bucky yelled loudly.

“Fuck you, Wilson! Why are you such a cunt, huh!?”

Sam smirked again, laughing hardly.

“Because I love to piss ya off, Buck!” he chuckled.

The guards were thinking for a while.

“Well.. Maybe we can try to wrap your limb in some material..” one of man suggested.

Steve nodded eagerly.

“Let’s give it a try, men.”

Few minutes and outbursts of anger later, Bucky’s arm was wrapped in a large white piece of a material guards have found in an janitor’s room.

Steve was standing in front of Bucky.

“Relax, take it easy” Rogers instructed his friend before the next attempt.

He made a place for Bucky and gently pushed him ahead.

Sam was standing next to the guards, awaiting for the event development.

Bucky walked through the detector once again, but he didn’t succeed. Again, the machine started to beep.

Steve just knew it won’t end properly as soon as he spotted like Sam took a step ahead in the direction of Bucky and like he was spreading his arms.

“Go back to the shadow, Winter Soldier! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” Sam intoned with a deep voice, trying to sound like Gandalf from Lord of the Rings.

Before Steve barely could say something, Bucky simply jumped to Falcon and after a while both men were tussling on the floor.

“How dare you, little fucker!” Bucky was yelling, strangling Sam a bit.

Wilson was blocking each move of Barnes and after a moment of fight, he managed to kick Winter Soldier off himself.

When Bucky was laying on the ground, gasping for air, Sam crawled to him and punched him at the shoulder, choking himself with a laughter.

“I am sorry, man!” Sam rolled at his back, Bucky did same. “I just had to do it.”

Bucky growled, but after a second he was laughing too.

“Fucker” Bucky playfully punched Sam’s shoulder. “I hate you.”

The chronicles of the winter || Part X

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI || Part VII|| Parta VIII  || Part IX continuation of imagine

Word Count: 3059

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, strong language, blood and injuries

Author: Beast

A/N: I’m incredibly sorry fellas for a such long delay! I got a lot of stuff to take care of and tbh I wasn’t really into writing Chronicles for some time. But now, with a huge thanks to my lovely lady and my friends, I decided to make this chapter. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I when I was writing it. And here’s what I wanna announce: only two chapters left. Chronicles will have 12 chapters in all. I hope you won’t mind them to be a bit longer then ever before. And for a smut scene, if some of you, my dear readers, would be interested, I was listening to song made by talented polish vocalist, Kasia Moś. I leave here a link to this song, just in case ♥ Enjoy! :)

Steve had been asleep when he heard the heavy footsteps followed by the door opening; at first he thought it might have been Emily, but then he realized there was no way she would ever make that much noise. He had slipped out of bed silently, shield retrieved from the bedside and brought into a defensive position. A million scenarios ran through his head, none of them pleasant, especially once the sharp scent of blood reached him.

To say he'd been surprised when he saw Bucky in the doorway was an understatement. He caught sight of the pistol the soldier held once he pushed the door shut behind him. He's going to shoot me, had been his first line of thought, and not a moment later he felt extremely guilty for immediately jumping to that conclusion. His body had eased a bit the moment the pistol was dropped, his own shield lowering and eventually dropped as well. There was only a moment's hesitation before he edged forward, closing the gap between them. He stopped a few yards away, not wanting to make him feel cornered.

"Bucky?" he spoke softly, tone gentle and light. His heart skipped a beat when the soldier's head lifted and looked to him, but his hope died when he saw his face. His eyes were greyed, dull and empty and so very tired. The second he saw his legs buckle Steve was right there, catching him before he hit the ground. He'd expected him to struggle, to lash out and fight, not to just lie there limp in his grasp. It'd scared him more than when he'd found his throat clasped in that metal hand. The amount of blood covering his friend was terrifying; who knew how much he could spare to lose in his state.

It'd taken him all of two seconds to get the blood-matted hoody off of the assassin, exposing a torn shirt and a devastating wound on his shoulder. He dimly recalled seeing a similar wound on a soldier Bucky had picked off of his back in the war. A sniper in the city was alarming, but not as surprising as he would have liked.

"D-don't do this to me, Buck" Steve was practically begging, fingers numbed with shock pressed against the wound to the soldier's back in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding. His other arm gently held him up, cradling him against his body as he tried not to dissolve into fearful panic. Is Hydra after him, or is it Robrax?, Steve thought to himself, trying to calm down.

Steve put as much pressure as he dared on the wound, suddenly very conscious of his strength. Bucky looked so delicate like this, and he wasn't sure if the bullet had caused a fracture. “Emily!” Steve yelled. “Em! I need your help!”

Redhead woman stepped into the room and was about to say something, but she only covered her mouth with hands. “Buck…” silent whisper left her mouth as she quickly got to her knees besides him. “Oh God, Steve, what’s with him!?” “He was shot” Captain said simply, looking around. “I need something, like material.. We need to stop the bleeding” he ordered coldly. Girl nodded slightly getting up. She ran to the bathroom and took two towels from the hangers. Minutes seemed like hours, but eventually the bleeding slowed. Steve scarcely cared that his clothes were now stained with it, just relieved that the mortal danger was now diminished. All towels were completely soaked with Bucky’s blood. Captain didn't waste any time trying to bandage the wound. Getting up and leaving him was not an option, not even for a moment, so he cannibalized his own shirt into a makeshift wrapping. He removed the soldier's shirt first and then folded up some of the fabric and pressed it to the injury. The bullet's possible presence in the wound was dimly acknowledged, but he didn't have the skill or tools to safely extract it. He would treat it proper later, but for now his main focus was to keep the bleeding at a minimum. He broke down his shirt into strips of fabric, knotting it together and using it to secure the fabric pad to the wound. “Steve…” Emily was whispering on and on, her soft hand placed on his shoulder. “Oh my God… We can’t lose him.. I can’t..” “Hush” Steve threw her a brief glance, to take care of Bucky’s wound shortly after.

Throughout the rough medical treatment Bucky hadn't so much as twitched. Steve could feel him breathing, and a quick check told him his pulse was stable, but slower than he would have liked. The serum they had injected him with might not as been as effective as his, but it was doing a fine enough job keeping him alive.

"You're doing great, Bucky" Captain was fully aware that he likely couldn't hear him, but it made him feel a little better to encourage him. He was sure he hadn't heard a kind word directed towards him in decades, and the thought made his heart ache. "You're gonna be fine, Buck, I promise. Me and Em will take care of you.." his voice hitched slightly, hands trembling as he gathered the assassin up into his arms.

He considered moving him to the bedroom but decided against it. Instead he placed him carefully on the sofa, onto his left side so that his breathing wouldn't be obstructed and his wound easily reached.

“Emily, can you gather up some medical supplies, some blankets and a clean shirt, you can find it in my bag” blonde man looked at redhead woman. She obeyed. After some moments she came to the little living room and handled stuff to Steve. Then Steve hit the light switch. A small lamp flickered on, and the scene it revealed drew the blood from his face. The floor was smeared with so much crimson that he doubted the stains would ever lift. His spare key was abandoned on the floor, near the pistol that Bucky had dropped earlier. The ruined clothes he'd removed still lay on the floor next to the towels; he'd be sure to dispose of them carefully. If Hydra really was who had hurt him, then they would no doubt be looking for any sign of him. The light cast a horrible realization of just how awful Bucky looked as well. Now without his shirt, Steve could see every little bruise, every wound that covered the assassin. His stomach turned in disgusted horror at the painful past each scar, each little mark told. Old injuries from knives, bullets and who knew what else were etched into his skin, telling a history devoid of peace and filled with violence. 

A washcloth was produced along with a bottle of disinfectant, wetting the fabric with it before he went to work on some of the smaller wounds. He was silently thankful for his unconsciousness, as he was sure there would be no way to do this had he been fully awake.

The soldier twitched slightly under his fingers as he worked on an old, infected wound on his side, curling into himself before letting out a pained whine. The former SHIELD agent hesitated at that, unsure if he should continue. If he was feeling the disinfectant that meant he had to be regaining consciousness. If he woke up with him hovering over him, covered in his blood and with no memory of how he got there, well, Steve wouldn't blame him in the slightest if he lashed out. He bit his lip, thinking for another moment, before he continued to clean the wound, taking care to be a bit gentler.

"It's okay, Buck, I promise…" he tried to soothe, even if he couldn't hear him yet. "You're safe, you're safe, you're safe…" he repeated it like a mantra as he finished with the wound, placing a pad of gauze over it and securing it with a little medical tape. He didn't dare touch the bullet wound now that he was capable of feeling pain, and he was also rather sure he'd need specialized help with it.

Blood has been cleaned away, Steve dried his hands.

Emily was sitting next to Bucky, holding his hand and stroking it gently. “It’s them, right?” she asked simply, not paying an attention to look at Steve. “Hydra?” He cleared his throat, living the room. “Probably.”

 Steve went to the little cluttered kitchen and he opened a fridge, pulling out a bottle of water. He reentered the room and unscrewed the bottle.

“We need to keep him hydrated” he mumbled, getting on his knees next to the sofa.

Emily took the bottle and slowly lifted Bucky’s head up. Then she carefully helped him to take a simple sip, then another and another.

“What’re we going to do now, Cap?” she asked, her long red hair has fallen on her face.

“I don’t know… I don’t know…” he sighed sadly, rubbing over his temples. “But it seems we are not safe also. If they had attacked their OWN SOLDIER, it means they won’t have any problems to try to kill us either” he shrugged slightly.

Emily nodded in silence, still stroking Bucky’s palm.

“I knew.. From the very beginning.. That it will end like this. I hadn’t any other choice, Steve” she whispered and her voice turned into little weeping. “I had to join them… I HAD TO..”

Steve got up from the floor, putting hands at her shoulders.

“No one of us had” man muttered.

Two days had passed very quickly.

It was a really rough time for Steve and Emily, because they had to look after Bucky and look for a safe hiding place at the same time.

Emily was spending her time with former assassin while Steve was looking for a good place and transport.

And he managed to found something.

From the outside this house looked old, but wonderful. It has been built with cypress wood and has walnut wood decorations. Small, squared windows have been added to the house in a mostly asymmetric way. The house was equipped with a large kitchen and one bathroom, it also had a comfortable living room, two bedrooms, a small dining area and a roomy garage. The building was square shaped. The house was fully surrounded by overgrown wooden overhanging panels. The second floor was smaller than the first, which, in combination with its placement, creates an original look. The roof was high and slanted to one side and is covered with black roof tiles. A few large windows let in just enough light to the rooms below the roof. The house itself was surrounded by a modest garden, with mostly grass and a few small trees. It was a perfect place to stay for a while until Bucky’s wounds will be healed, and Steve’s too.

Emily was slowly getting ready to take a bath.

Looking at her pale, slim body covered with a shirt and fitted leggins, she felt a mix of sadness and distaste. She hated herself for things she had done to people. “I hate you” she whispered toward her reflection in the mirror. “I want you to die, tæve.”

Suddenly she heard the door being opened and shut quickly. Her heart beat faster as she could hear steps crossing the corner. She wanted it for so long… And she couldn’t deny it. Since the day she helped him with his wounds, she was craving him. So badly.

As she finally saw Steve’s smirking face, she let out a loud gasp. “You shouldn’t be in h..” “Shut up” he interrupted her by pushing her against the wall and locking his lips with hers. He could feel her resist at first, but he used his tongue to open Emily’s lips which was when she gave in and kissed him back. They were kissing each other hard now as his hand squeezed her boobs hard. After some time, he finally let her breathe. Still gasping for air, she stuttered. “W-what are you doing?.. What are WE doing, Steve..” He grinned at her and gave her a soft kiss while taking off her leggins. “Taking what’s mine, baby.” He slipped her shirt over her head and threw it on aside, where it’s quickly been joined by his own shirt. She was still leaning against the wall, still a little hesitant but definitely turned on as Steve can tell from her glowing cheeks and her rushing eyes. “Steve…” she bit her lower lip, looking hardly into his eyes.

She good knew it was one of the moments, when he wasn’t himself at all. Now he was Captain Hydra, not kind and polite Steve Rogers. Sometimes it was just like this, that he was loosing his personality for several minutes or a bit longer. And he was turning into a mess. She hated such moments, but she had to deal with it. And now, with that thick sexual tension in between them, she wasn’t even about to complain. Because she wanted him. She wanted Steve to fuck her senseless until she would be begging him to stop. She simply needed that. He grabbed her hand and guided it down his abs into his boxers. As she felt his hard cock, she let out a loud gasp and pull hand back quickly, but immediately regaining her confidence, she slided hand down again and firmly grab his cock. She noticed just now that he had undone her bra while he began to tease her hard nipples with his warm tongue, circling around and flicking against them. She began to stroke his cock slowly, as she looked into his eyes, mumbling. “We should stop, what if HE come in here?” He laughed quietly, quickly shove his hand into her lacy panties and thrust two fingers into her already soaking wet pussy. As she started to moan loudly, Steve immediately covered her mouth with his other hand and whispered into her ear. “Can you shut the fuck up now, baby? Unless you want Bucky to catch us now.”

He slipped Emily’s leggins off and turned her around, pushing her front against the cold tiles before slapping her ass and rubbing her wet pussy from behind. Steve saw that she was dripping down her leg, so he kneeled down behind her and start kissing his way up her inner thighs, licking up every single drop on the way. Having reached the top, he circled his tongue around the outline of her little pussy, causing even more wetness. Steve could feel Emily’s body shivered as he started eating her out. He digged his tongue deep into her and moved it up and down slowly but firmly. Simultaneously, his thumb rubbed across her clit, as he heard multiple soft moans escaping her mouth. “Steve, I’m gonna cum.. she moaned. He stopped licking immediately and came back up to her face. “No. You’re gonna cum when I want you to, understand?” She suddenly looked worried. “He must be wondering where I Am.” Steve slapped her ass and shoved her against the wall hard. “You should be worrying about me, nothing else. I’m gonna fuck you now and you’re gonna be a good girl.”

He took off his pants and threw them into the corner. As Emily took his cock into her hand and started to get on her knees, he grabbed her by the neck and pulled her back up, holding her face right in front of his. “None of this bullshit, baby.” He pushed her into the corner between the cold tile wall and a sink and lifted up one of her legs. Steve stood in front of her and quickly pushed his hard cock into her dripping pussy without wasting any time. Emily’s arms locked around his back and as he started thrusting himself into her, her nails digged into his butt, causing him to thrust even faster. As a loud moan tried to escape her mouth again, Captain quickly suffocated it by kissing her hard. He could feel her body losing control with every increase of pace. All her sense was his scent, his sweaty, muscular body pushing against hers, his throbbing cock pounding and stretching her tight little pussy, hitting her inner walls. Steve covered her mouth once more as her moans turned into screams. He felt her body shivered, then clenched hard around his cock for a second before shaking uncontrollably again as she bit one of his fingers that was covering her mouth. Steve pulled out his hard cock and once again Emily tried to get on her knees to make him cum with her mouth but she almost fell over, still having very little control of her own body. He grabbed her quickly and picked her up. “Did I say we’re done?” She looked a little scared as she saw the burning hunger in Steve’s eyes. He grabbed her hair and pulled her to the sink, bending her over the counter. He slapped her butt hard, before he shoved his thick cock into her again from behind. This time was much quicker. Steve immediately started to pounding as hard as he only could, while pulling her head up by her hair so she could see him fucking her in the mirror. After roughly several seconds, he felt the familiar shivering and clenching, this time causing him to cum inside her pumping pussy as well. “FUCK, STEVE!” she couldn’t hold it any longer and screamed Steve’s name loudly, not caring if Bucky will hear it. Steve waited till he felt that every drop of his cum has been shot into her, then he pulled out his cock. He turned her around, kissed her hard one last time and smiled. “Good, baby. Now I know what Bucky meant telling me you’re the rapture” blonde man rushed to put his clothes back on, then he simply left the bathroom, fastening his belt, leaving Emily shaking and naked. Trembling all over her sweaty body, she looked after him, then she quickly closed the door to bathroom and got under the shower. She felt his semen dripping down her thighs. Emily allowed the cold water to stimulate her mind and body, pulling her out of the blissful lethargy after a fulfillment in arms of Captain Rogers.

The chronicles of the winter || Part XI

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI || Part VII|| Parta VIII || Part IX || Part X continuation of imagine 

Word Count: 6770

Warnings: strong language, blood and injuries

Author: Beast

"You're safe, you're safe…"

The words reached him gradually, spoken softly and warmly as his tentative grip on reality tightened. He felt awful, head swimming and senses dulled. He wanted nothing more than to give in to the lull of sleep, to let go of consciousness and fall back into the waiting darkness, but he knew that would leave him vulnerable. The awareness of his own body was painfully slow to return. He was lying on something soft, his shoulder ached with a pain like broken glass in his head, his mouth was far too dry and something was touching him.

For some odd reason, he wasn't as panicked as he thought he'd be. Concerned was a more accurate word; concerned about what was near him and who was speaking, but the voice was comforting and gentle, and his guard wasn't so quick to build up. It was familiar in some odd way that he couldn't quite put his finger on; it was nothing like the barking orders and fearful murmurs of the white-coated men who pulled him from the icy depths of cryostasis. He couldn't have been in cryo for that matter, he felt too warm for that, and waking from that death-sleep never happened on something soft; he always awoke strapped down on a metal table, alone.

Movement in front of him; someone was standing, walking away. He heard wooden floorboards creak softly underfoot. Not in the facility. That was assuring, but also alarming. Where the hell was he, if he wasn't back there? Memories came back in a fuzzy tangle of pain and confusion, not at all clear and providing no answers. All he could definitively pick out was running, running, running, and suffocating pain. It was too much of a jumbled mess to make sense of.

Testing his body was difficult. The pain was sharp enough to register through the programming, indicating that something was damaged severely. His thoughts were too sluggish for him to adequately catalog his own wounds in his mental checklist to relay to his handlers. Wait—the handlers are dead. That realization forced his eyes open, mind in desperate need of affirmation for that line of thought. The light, however dim it might have been, was oppressive and overpowering. He blinked several times before he could make out any semblance of detail. The walls were painted a warm, light color, with pictures and furniture scattered around the room. It was nothing like the sterile space he typically woke in. Everything about it was different, but not in an uncomfortable sort of way. He could see a pile of bloody clothes—mine?—off near the door, and was suddenly quite aware of how defenseless he felt.

"… Bucky?" the voice was so sudden it caused him to twitch, body suddenly tense and ready to spring when he caught sight of someone peeking in from a doorway across the room. His vision was still blurry but he thought he recognized him. When the person stepped closer he was sitting up in an instant—and instantly regretted it. The sharp movement caused a burst of warmth on his shoulder, choking down a yelp at the intense pain. He chanced looking away from the man, metal hand cautiously touching the back of his shoulder. The limb lacked tactile sensation, but he did determine there was something spongy and yielding there, and when he removed the hand, the fingers were covered in fresh blood. My shirt was removed and wounds tended to. Did the man do this?

The couch, he'd realized he was lying on one a few seconds prior, dipped slightly as the man sat down next to him, keeping enough space between them so he wasn't crowded. The fact that he had approached without him noticing was enough to alarm the asset into immediate guard. He pressed himself against the arm of the couch, back against it and wound as far away from the other as he could get it. He studied him intently, looking for any weapon or any item that was a danger. He was ready to defend himself at the slightest provocation.

"I brought you some juice, if you want something to drink." The man with the bright eyes spoke softly, offering him a clear plastic cup filled about halfway with the liquid, smiling at him with familiarity. It was brightly colored and somewhat unusual looking, but it smelled rather pleasant and his dry throat was suddenly at the forefront of his awareness. The confusion surrounding how he got here was still taking precedence in his mind, but the man, he remembered something about him. His voice was the one that had said he was safe. His hands were faintly stained with blood and his shirt was marred with it as well. He must be the one who treated me. He wasn't entirely sure why that thought was comforting, but it was.

Moments passed with no movement between the two, the assassin distrustful and rightfully wary. Kindness and compassion were both incredibly foreign concepts, locked out of him by layers and layers of ridged programming and conditioning. There had to be some reason this man was doing this. Was he being prepped for something?

He swallowed thickly, the dryness of his throat too much to ignore, and cautiously extended his metal hand out to take the offered cup. Eye contact was never broken, not giving the other the chance to do anything that could threaten him. The cup was fragile, thin plastic, and it took a little testing to make sure he wouldn't break it before he took it from him.

"Its orange juice," the man started, "I have milk or water if you'd rather have that?" was he asking for his preference? That was… he didn't really remember any time when anyone had asked what he'd wanted. He didn't respond and regarded the juice warily, but he eventually deemed it safe. It wasn't logical to go through all the effort of tending to his wounds just to poison him. Even with that thought in mind, his first sip was hesitant. It tasted overwhelmingly sweet, enough so that it almost made him gag, but he was so thirsty he probably would have taken just about anything.

Emily was standing on the corridor, listening to the conversation of two men. She sighed sadly, knowing that something was about to happen..

"Will you let me look at your shoulder?" the question was entirely unexpected, causing icy eyes to cut over to the other man, "It's bleeding again, and I'd like to get an actual bandage on it, if that's alright with you." He was asking his permission. The concept was almost intangible to his methodical mind. He had rarely been told what was happening to him, let alone given anything resembling a choice; when things needed to be done, things were done, and he had no say in them. He was interested in his wellbeing, so perhaps he was a new handler, to replace the ones that were dead.

"One round, sniper rifle, distance of several blocks." He repeated all the information he knew about the injury, "Bullet didn't exit, needs extraction." His voice was monotonous, not looking away from the man at his right. Several moments of silence passed before he watched the other man retrieve several items from the floor before sitting back down next to him, much closer this time. In response the soldier moved, sitting so that his back was to him so he could reach the wound easily. He was operating on programming and instinct, otherwise he never would have turned away from him.

"I'm going to take off the bandage now, let me know if it hurts and I'll stop." His voice was still that gentle tone that held a familiarity that he couldn't place. He didn't respond, just sipping the juice he had been given as he felt the other peel the blood-soaked fabric from the wound. To distract himself he tried to focus on the events that ended with him waking up in this place. He remembered something about the Strike team, about HYDRA, about desperately seeking out someone, about Robrax.

The asset tensed absentmindedly when he felt the other man dab at the wound with a cloth, wiping away the blood. He heard a hastily mumbled "sorry" from behind him before the work was continued, gentler than before. Minutes passed in silence, with the weapon sitting stilly and obediently as the taller man cleaned and dressed the wound. The disinfectant stung but he didn't show any discomfort, allowing him to clean the wound thoroughly as he let himself be lost in his own thoughts.

A hazy memory trickled into his mind of a cold and dimly-lit apartment, with himself and someone else sitting on a ratty old couch covered in moth-eaten blankets. The other person was scratching the stub of a charcoal pencil into a small sketchbook, bundled up in as many of those pathetic-looking blankets as he could and sitting as close to—me?—as was physically possible. He remembered feeling Steve, his name was Steve, shivering horribly even through all those blankets. It was winter, he'd just gotten over pneumonia, and he remembered how scared he'd been thinking he was going to lose him. But... why did he remember this? Were those memories actually his?

"… you still draw, don't you, Steve?" the soldier suddenly questioned, the degrading programming loosening its grip on his awareness now that he was fully awake. The other man, he remembered his name now. He was Steve Rogers. Captain Steve Rogers. He was the only face he could recall with any clarity, therefore he had to have held some significant importance to him at some time.

"I—" Steve faltered, finishing up wrapping gauze tape around his shoulder to hold the sterile packing in place, "Y-yeah I do, Buck. You… always liked watching me draw." His voice was tentative and hopeful, something the asset made immediate mental note of. He heard Steve putting away things behind him, and he took it as a sign that he was finished.

"… do you still keep a sketchbook?" the assassin wasn't sure why he was so interested, but the memory had been rather clear and he took it as an opportunity to possibly learn if it was real. He tilted his head to glance back over his shoulder, and saw Steve nod slightly. "Can I see it?" he wasn't used to asking questions, to voicing his own thoughts, and he felt a need to try it. Seeing the smile that broke across the other's face was oddly rewarding.

"Of course you can." Steve nearly fumbled over his own words, eyes alight with some emotion he couldn't place, "Here, Bucky." A shirt was held out to him when he turned to face him fully, "Your shirt was ruined, so you can use one of mine." Blue eyes regarded it somewhat warily, but he took it from him regardless. It was little more than a plain grey shirt, but it was appreciated. "I'll go and get you some more juice and my sketchbook. I'll be back in a moment." The empty cup was retrieved from his hand, the assassin not startling at the sudden movement, before the man left the room. Bucky. There was that name again. His name. He dimly recalled it—yes, it was his name.

The shirt was a little difficult to put on with his arm and shoulder injured, but it was managed. The horrific grinding and popping of his joint when he pulled it over his head confirmed that the injury had to be set. He added it into his mental list of injuries. The garment was a little big on his thinned frame, but it was clean and comfortable. It had a somewhat familiar scent to it as well that he couldn't quite recall. Even in as much pain as he was, he felt better than he had in a very long time. Not physically better; he felt absolutely awful physically, but maybe a little better mentally.

He had confirmation that his name was the same as the Sergeant memorialized in the museum, and that this other man was the same Steve that he could dimly remember. There was still an odd disconnect between himself and his past, between himself and the man known as Bucky, but this was a fragile thread that tied him back to it. There were a lot of blank, empty spaces where memories should be in his mind, and he doubted he'd ever get everything back, but this felt… right? Being here with Steve felt right. Yes, he was fairly certain this was the right thing to do.

Tired eyes caught sight of a few folded blankets on the floor near his feet. He might have just regained consciousness but he still felt absolutely exhausted and drained. One of the blankets was picked up, wrapped around him tightly to try and block the cold. It was one of those odd constants that never left; cold seemed to follow him like his own shadow, sinking teeth of ice into his flesh every waking moment. No matter what he tried he never could seem to warm himself up. He curled up tightly under the fabric, feeling a tentative safety for the first time in a long while. All the running and fear and paranoia was starting to melt, bit by bit, as he allowed his eyes to close willingly. By the time Steve returned, he had already dozed off, huddled against the arm of the couch with his back to the door; a small, fragile sign of trust. It was the first deep, peaceful sleep he could remember since he woke from stasis.

When he opened his eyes this time there was no light, the space dark and silent, the reason for just why he was awake unclear. Several moments passed before he realized he was staring into fabric; the back of a couch, he determined. Unease breathed at the back of his neck, but nothing seemed outwardly wrong around him. However, something still felt off. His memories were slow to catch up with his awareness, but he pieced together where he was soon enough. This time his return to consciousness didn't come with any overwhelming paranoia, just a faint acknowledgment of his surroundings; it was a first for the soldier.

He hadn't moved at all since falling asleep, the skill of remaining completely motionless honed into a fine art. It was an ability he'd possessed even before HYDRA's conditioning; he half recalled something about sniping. The downside was that he was now rather sore, and he was sure the injuries he'd sustained earlier in the night had only been compounded by his lack of movement. He'd slept on his right arm, which hadn't done his dislocated joint any favors. He would be sure to alert his new handler to the injury come morning.

There was a momentary lapse before he corrected his thought. Not handler, Steve. The man was an odd sort of mystery in his head. He wasn't a handler, wasn't a white-coated tech, wasn't anything he was familiar with. Steve was Steve. He was a strange exception in a world of ridged rules and protocols. Normally such an obvious outlier would make him nervous, but Steve's presence was comforting and nonthreatening and achingly familiar.

Movement was difficult; now that the adrenaline and shock had worn off he felt the full force of the pain. Every muscle seemed to ache, a deep-seeded burn that spread from his skin to the deepest parts of him. His prosthetic creaked and the servos whined pitifully, the weeks of abuse and ill-care wearing at it. Getting into a sitting position took much more effort than he expected, but now that he had a clear view of the entire room he felt a little safer. The tentative feeling of security let him will himself to take stock of his situation.

The room hadn't changed except for the light having been flipped off, but the darkness was of no hindrance. He could see rather well at night, but whether or not that was inherent or due to HYDRA tampering he wasn't sure. Despite the fact that this place exuded a sense of safety that he'd never experienced before, checking the perimeter and his surroundings was so ingrained in him that he felt a compulsion to do it.

As he moved to get up, he noticed there was a second blanket covering him. Or had been, before he sat up and caused it to tumble off of him in a heap. Absentmindedly he reached out to pick it up, wincing a bit at the metallic whine of his artificial joints and tendons. Several of the plates were jarred out of place, clanking together unnaturally and restricting his range of motion. Dried blood mired the reflective surface, coming not from himself but from nameless HYDRA agents. As soon as he had recovered enough to be effective, he had gone and destroyed every safe house he knew of, killing every HYDRA agent he came across. He was going to destroy HYDRA all on his own if it came to that; they were going to regret ever having created him. He'd see to it.

"Mm, Buck?" the sleepy hum of the Captain broke the silence, the soldier's eyes cutting over in that direction. He hadn't even noticed the other man had placed himself in a nearby chair, now-open eyes regarding him tiredly. Keeping an eye on me? Making sure I don't escape? The second thought made his brow furrow a bit. No, that's not right. He somehow just knew that wasn't why he had opted to rest out here instead of returning to the bedroom.

The asset didn't respond verbally, but gave him a brief nod before he carried through with picking up the blanket. The nervousness was once again settling into the pit of his stomach, the sort of feeling he expected prey felt before a predator sprung from the shadows. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, as he was usually the lurking predator in question. He could hear Steve stretching and moving to get up, so he decided to remain seated; he had a feeling the Captain would fuss if he tried to get up and walk with his wounds.

"Feeling any better?" the other's voice was far too bright for it being so early in the morning. The assassin just watched as he tapped at a phone, glancing to him after the screen lit up. He took a moment to check himself mentally before he responded. His metal fingers hesitantly relinquished their grip on the blanket, instead wrapping gingerly around his shoulder joint, where the Captain had dislocated it in their struggle.

"… arm hurts." He mumbled quietly, lacking the robotic, monotonous quality that had previously dominated his voice. He knew that the Captain had seen the deep bruising and discoloration around the joint, as the bullet wound was plastered in the middle of it, but he was well aware that there was likely little he could do for it. Even he wasn't sure if it was just a dislocation, or if there was a fracture as well. The frown that appeared on the other man's face at his words was enough to make the nervousness he was experiencing leap to the front of his mind.

"We'll get it looked at, don't worry." His voice was always so soothing, "But…" discomfort, possibly even fear crept into the other's tone suddenly, serving to heighten the soldier's apprehension. His gaze was at his phone again, tapping his finger against it nervously. "… we can't stay here, we need to get somewhere safe." The sense of urgency was contagious, it seemed. The hairs on the back of his neck were on-end again, and the assassin was on his feet in a few seconds.

"Buck, are you sure you're alright to be up and.." the glare he directed at the Captain was much more threatening than he meant it to be, but he got his point across as the rest of the man's sentence withered in his throat. He wasn't fragile, he wasn't to be coddled; he was a weapon that was damaged and malfunctioning, not broken and useless. Weakness wasn't tolerated, his handlers had made sure to drive that into his programming.

"Give me a minute to get ready and get you a jacket, then we've gotta move out." Those were words the soldier remembered and associated with. Location compromised, moving to safety. It must be why he woke up; HYDRA must be closing in. It was enough to make his muscles stiffen with readiness, not wanting to be taken by surprise like last time. They wouldn't have that luxury. Not again.

 Emily also had packed some necessary stuff earlier. She was standing in the middle of the room, with a backpack hanging over her shoulder.

“Guys…” she whispered. “We don’t have much time.”

Waiting was not in the Winter Soldier's repertoire, and instead of remaining still he was up and moving. The pistol he had dropped earlier was retrieved, inspected and placed into his pocket. There wasn't a lot of ammunition left in it, but enough to be useful. He'd done more damage with much, much less. Now that he was up he decided to do that perimeter check he'd been planning on. Steve was doing something in his room, so he avoided that room and checked every other one. His pass through the kitchen produced the knife he'd left that first night, still sullied with the Captain's blood, and a worn sketchbook. There was a twinge of guilt in his stomach that passed quickly as he placed the blade back into the sheath at his ankle. The small book, likely the one Steve had been bringing to show him, was tucked into his pocket.

The dull, aching burn in his muscles was pushed out of his awareness; now that there was a clear threat to him all pain was ignored. It was how he had been conditioned, trained and taught; pain was a weakness and only useful for determining damage after a successful mission. He hated to admit that he was nervous, but he was. He had the beginnings of fragile trust in Steve, but this had the makings of a trap. Suddenly relocating after arriving? Departing hours before the sun rose, when no one would ever notice their passing? It was enough to set off warning bells in the soldier's mind.

"Buck," the Captain's hesitant voice broke his thoughts, eyes cutting over to where the other man was peeking in from the door, "Are you ready?" again with questions, again with asking him things. It was still a strange and unusual concept to the asset, used only to demands and orders. He responded only with a curt nod, taking a jacket that the other offered to him. It was somewhat big on him, but worn and soft and comfortable nonetheless. Nothing like the rigid combat gear HYDRA had outfitted him with. In a way he felt vulnerable, missing the reassuring weight and constriction of his body armor.

Steve had a small pack slung over his shoulder, the contents of which the soldier didn't know, and shield strapped to his arm. It was clear, however, that they were likely not coming back, not for a long time at least. There was no sentimental attachment to this place for him, he didn't have any sentimental attachments honestly, but he did know this place and knew it was safe in his mind, so leaving it didn't sit right in his mind. He did know, however, that staying would end in certain HYDRA custody or death.

Ushered out into the hall, the soldier only moved when prompted by his new handler. No, Steve. His senses were on alert, although still dulled and sluggish from the blood loss earlier. The sleep and bandaging had improved his awareness a bit, although even with his serum it would take a few more hours before he would be in a condition he was comfortable with. He just watched as Steve tapped at his phone, door pulled shut behind him. It was only after he read some text message for the fifth time that he suddenly froze.

"Shit." Now that got a reaction out of the soldier. He tensed up and stood perfectly still, the tone of Steve's voice setting off warnings and alarm bells that something was catastrophically wrong. His tone had been nothing but softness and warmth up until now; the swear sparked just the ghost of a sensation in his head, of cold wind and the smell of gunsmoke as he peered over a trench in some long forgotten battlefield.

"We need to move. Now." the words spilled out of the blond man suddenly, a hand grabbing his right arm without warning and tugging him down towards the stairs. Normally such an unexpected action would have warranted a swift punch to the jaw, but the startled tone in the other's voice alerted him that something was very, very wrong. He didn't resist, letting Steve lead him swiftly down the stairs and towards a back door, the other man mumbling the entire way about something about the text having been wrong. Muffled voices—HYDRA, Strike team—filtered through the walls from outside, formless shadows visible through the frosted glass of the front doors.

Subtly was thrown out the window as Steve kicked the back door open and bolted outside, the asset stumbling and fighting to keep up with the jolting motion. The man had yet to let go of his arm, guiding him through narrow alleyways and side streets in a path that seemed predetermined. He didn't know the plan, which was a source of anxiety in and of itself, but Steve clearly had something in mind, so for the first time he—trust was too strong a word—relied on the other's decisions to get them out of harm's way.

HYDRA agents were all over, dressed in varying uniforms of Strike and police and others he did not recognize. They shouted as they tried to corner them, seemingly appearing from nowhere from alleyways and cars and from behind objects. Steve did not engage them, instead pulling him along as he ducked and weaved dizzyingly between buildings and sleepy streets. He had a set destination in mind, the asset could tell, and even though the sight of HYDRA angered him into considering pulling away to fight, he knew it was too risky to separate himself from the Captain.

Unfortunately, HYDRA did that for him. There was a sudden, jarring shout from one of the alleys they were about to blow past, and before either could react the darkened space filled with blinding light and a concussive sound. Flashbang. Steve yelled something but the asset didn't hear, the grip on his arm lost as the other covered his ears. Even before the white left his vision, formless shapes surrounded them as agents appeared to spring from the very walls to box them in. Wordlessly, the assassin and the Avenger stood back to back, fitting into formation as easily as if it was something they did every day. The pistol was pulled from his pocket, knowing that even with little ammo it would be more effective at the moment than a knife. There was a brief flash of familiarity in his mind, but the situation around him drowned it out almost instantly.

"Drop your weapon and surrender the asset, Captain Rogers!" a husky voice barked out, a dozen barrels of a dozen guns aimed at them. He could feel Steve tense against his back, but so vastly outnumbered and outgunned any outburst now would likely end in one or both of them dead.

"… Steve." He wasn't sure just why he spoke, or why his voice was softened and hinted with an accent he only vaguely recalled, but he did. It was a sort of rash, sudden need to ground himself in the present, to remind himself that the man behind him was indeed the Steve he could so faintly remember. His statement, however, had an unintended consequence.

"The asset's compromised," that growling voice spoke again, "he'll need to be wiped and reconditioned if we're going to salvage this." That statement triggered an intense, shattering terror in the assassin the likes of which he could not recall. Broken memories of deafening electricity crackling madly, of being tied down and unresisting and passive, suddenly swam in his mind and broke through his calculating combat mindset. Without thought he pressed himself further against Steve's back, as if somehow he could hide from his own horrifying memories in the other's presence.

"Buck, it's alright," voice hushed and gentle, the Captain spoke only loud enough for him to hear, "You've got to work with me, we're going to work together to get out of this, just follow my lead." It wasn't worded as an order or command, and as such disoriented the soldier for a moment, but that fragile ideal of trust settled in to fill in the gaps and his only response was a slight nod that went unseen. They could do this. “Emily. I’m gonna take their attention, you need to run. If they will take us three, nothing will left.”

She nodded slightly and before the fight, she ran toward the nearest window. She stopped in front of it, taking a look back at her men. Steve was looking at her above his shoulder, he gave her a nod, so she followed his order and jumped out of the window, disappearing in the darkness of the night.

There was no warning for the HYDRA agents, shield thrown and colliding with several and incapacitating them while three expertly placed and near-simultaneous bullets downed three permanently. They moved in sync, still keeping each at their back even after separating and lunging at the ring of agents that surrounded them. The now-useless pistol had been abandoned in favor for a blade, which was used to swiftly and efficiently disable and kill two more agents before they could even fire off a round.

The resonant clang of the shield behind him let him subconsciously track the Captain's movements, even as he threw himself into the tangle of agents in front of him. He used the knowledge that he was wanted alive to his advantage, as he knew they wouldn't dare try to shoot him at such close range as it would likely irreparably damage him and they would lose their prized asset. It couldn't have worked better for him, as he was just as comfortable and deadly dispatching a target at close range as he was sniping.

An agent was slammed against the nearby wall, razored blade deftly sliding between neck vertebras to kill his target instantly. Without a moment's hesitation he was upon another, moving with all the predatory grace of a hunting cat, throat slit and body casually dropped as if it were little more than a discarded jacket. The remaining two agents in his field of view turned and bolted, and had he been on his prior missions of annihilating HYDRA installations around the city he would have pursued them relentlessly, but now he barely acknowledged their escape. Instead, he spun on his heel to where Steve was fighting, wasting no time engaging the remaining agents that swarmed him.

His blood-sullied blade dipped into the throat of a Strike member readying to shoot Steve's back, a gurgled wheeze of horrified shock the only noise that escaped before he was roughly shoved aside. Sticky crimson soaked deep into his jacket and clothes beneath but little regard was given to it; the horrors of his actions seemed as commonplace as any daily act to him after decades of repetition. Another HYDRA infantrymen lunged at Rogers with a stun baton, but the soldier intercepted him, slashing with a precise stroke that opened the man's torso as easily as a zipper. He fell noiselessly into a jumbled heap of blood and viscera at the Captain's feet, a non-threat.

Soon only a few hostiles remained, mostly stepping far back and firing as many rounds as they could at Captain Rogers. The asset refused to leave the man's side again, tucked up close near him in an effort to deter any more firing, and to his dim surprise it seemed to work. The agents backed away even farther, guns raised but triggers untouched, eyes locked on them. He took the brief lull in fire to glance at Steve for a moment, to assess his condition. He was on his feet, but blood had soaked his right leg from a bullet wound to the calf. A slash from a knife tore through his jacket and into his side, while red dribbled from his saturated sleeve from another entry wound. He was standing, for the moment, but the soldier knew that even with the serum the blood loss would catch him quickly.

Steve asked something, something about how he was holding up or the like, but the assassin didn't catch it. Instead his attention was elsewhere when his eyes caught a brief flash of light from the roof of a building two streets over. His heart fell into his stomach and his shout of warning was lost to the rifle crack when the realization hit. Of course, the bullet hit first, just not in the place HYDRA had wanted it.

The soldier had reacted instinctively, kicking the back of Steve's injured leg hard enough that he buckled. His sudden movement meant the bullet, aimed for a kill shot on the Avenger's heart, instead struck and slid off the slant of his shield and hit his collarbone. A second bullet, fired milliseconds after the first from a likely second sniper, caught him across his already-slashed ribs, blossoming open as if it were a grotesque flower. The strangled cry of shock and pain that left the man as he crumpled to the ground snapped something buried deep beneath HYDRA programming, and within a half-second he had grabbed Steve by his arm and pulled him into a small alcove between two buildings. He heard two more bullets strike the asphalt where they had been moments before, and knew that HYDRA was likely not going to take Steve alive.

All thoughts of the remaining HYDRA agents were abandoned at the sound of Steve's raspy breathing, the assassin leaning him against the building wall as to hopefully ease it some as he leaned down to his level. Even though the shield had absorbed most of the energy of the round, the wound was devastating. The bullet had shattered his collarbone, flesh torn and ripped and blood dripping freely. A dribble of the crimson stained the Captain's chin, breath labored and choking and heaved in and out. His lung's been punctured, probably collapsing. The second bullet had no doubt shattered his ribs, and the awful torn wound was jagged and blown apart by the unimpeded bullet's passing. It was a grim prognosis.

The sounds of the agents trying to regroup from the attack were hardly registered, hands pressed to the man's injury in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood. A pained cough escaped him, reddened mouth slackened open as he tried again and again to fill his lungs full to no avail. "B… B-Buck…" he slurred wetly through the blood, half-lidded eyes beginning to glaze over as unconsciousness loomed, "… got t-to… get… a-away…" shock was setting in, body trembling under the assassin's hands, but he mustered the energy to nudge him with the shield in a halfhearted attempt to push him into running. He wanted him to leave him behind, to save himself from falling back into HYDRA's control. The very thought of it twisted the soldier's stomach in a knot and caused his breath to catch in his throat.

"S-Steve," his normally-controlled voice was shaky and small, fear filling every inch of him as trembling, blood-stained metallic fingers brushed golden hair away and cupped the Captain's cheek to hold his gaze on him, "You've gotta hold on," his eyes began to sting as an unfamiliar heat and blurriness began to build, "I-I'm not leaving you behind." Something had woken up deep in his mind, faint ghosts of memories of battles long past. Of fights in alleys where both refused to run away, never leaving the other's side. It was such a strong emotion that consumed him that he couldn't ever hope to fight it, and strangely enough, he possessed no will to resist it.

Footsteps and barked orders behind him drew him from his withdrawn, focused state. It was like a switch flicking in his head, the sharp focus of combat and programming setting in, and within the space of a breath he had taken the shield from Steve's faltering grasp and spun around, keeping himself between the agents and his injured partner. His vision was blurred and his eyes stung fiercely, an unfamiliar wetness trailing down a cheek, but he didn't move from his defensive stance, rooted to the spot with shield held solid in his metal prosthetic. The plates whirled and slid together with a groan of protest, ready to lash out with the vibranium disk at the slightest movement.

"Get away!" he snarled in a voice so loud it startled the men, "Get away from him!" he swung the shield at an agent that dared to approach, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him tumbling. The sharp, ripping pain as his own shoulder wound tore caused him to wince, but it was immediately stuffed down as he had much more important things to focus on. Seeing their own knocked away so easily, even while he was in such a state, caused the others to take heed and back away a few feet. Even though his joint protested, he retrieved and hid a blade in the palm of his injured arm, keeping it disguised behind the shield. If they got close again they would be in for a nasty surprise.

"This is… unexpected." The same agent who spoke earlier piped up, rifle trained on the pair with deadly intent, "Looks like the programming has decayed more than anticipated. General Lukin isn't going to be pleased." That name was familiar, and struck a fear like a dagger of ice into the soldier's heart. He pressed himself back, shield held higher in a desperate attempt to keep the agents at bay. Steve moved behind him, whimpering in pain, and a moment later the former Soviet felt his hand press reassuringly to his back in a wordless gesture of trust. It was enough to steel his nerves, to dispel his own fear just enough to focus on the agents who had chanced to venture further.

With an almost animalistic roar, he leapt at the nearest agent, jamming the sharp edge of the shield into his ribcage, crushing it like a flimsy can. He dropped into a tangle of limbs, and he used the moment of confusion to swing at another, feeling the agent's skull cave under the impact. The shield was brought down on the neck of another agent, while the knife in his right hand pierced the torso of one rushing at him. As he swiveled to lunge at the seeming-commander he froze mid-strike, eyes wide with terror, when he saw that another agent had a gun trained to the downed Captain's head.

"No!" the word clawed its way out of him, shield and blade falling from his hand in a show of submission, eyes wide with feral panic. "D-don't do it." He'd never demanded anything from anyone, not in all his active years, but he was now. He was scared, desperate and out of options, pleading like one of his victims to spare the other man's life. The commander's gravelly voice broke into a laugh behind him, but before he could round on him he felt a pinprick on the back of his neck, followed immediately by a burst of warmth that spider-webbed through his body. His knees buckled and vision swam, awareness growing fuzzy as he collapsed to the ground. He gasped out Steve's name, tried to push himself back up, but he couldn't even prevent his eyes from sliding shut a heartbeat later. His hearing muffled, but the last thing he was aware of was that growl of a voice ordering the surviving agents to take the both of them before everything drained away into nothingness.

The chronicles of the winter || Part XII - The End

Part II  || Part III || Part IV || Part V || Part VI || Part VII|| Parta VIII || Part IX || Part X || Part XI  continuation of imagine

Word Count: 13559

Warnings: none 

Author: Beast

Habit and impulse were so easy to fall back on, thinking being a costly and dangerous liability. The Asset had learned that early on, it having been forced into his program, carved into his skin among the patchwork of scars so it became a part of him. This time, however, this time it was different. This time when he woke up on that familiar cold table, seeing white-coated techs hovering over him and his wounds like vultures, he didn't feel the programming trying to lull him into docility. Oh no, this time a latent instinct, old and raw and powerful, bubbled through the cracks in HYDRA's conditioning and screamed in his subconscious, spurring him to act.

Fight.

Find.

Protect.

A snarl worthy of a predator tore its way out of his throat as he shoved the nearest tech away, the force of it throwing him clear into the opposite wall. The rest of them scattered like insects, shouting in varied languages as he pulled himself into a sitting position, glaring at them from behind the mess of his hair. A half-dozen IVs were laced into his veins, a likely but ultimately unsuccessful attempt to keep him asleep. The stiffness along his shoulder told him they had likely closed the sniper's wound, and he quickly realized his dislocated joint had been pushed back into place and immobilized with thick medical tape. They'd replaced his blood-soaked shirt with a dark grey one, and as if to mock him, it bore the SHIELD logo embossed in shiny blue thread over his heart.

"где." The soldier demanded, forcing himself to his feet, the drip-lines tugged free of his arms. The HYDRA agents and techs skittered in panic, yowling like panicked animals in a hunter's trap. When he didn't get a response did he bark the word out again, this time in English. "Where." If he wasn't told, he wouldn't hesitate to tear the place to shreds to find out. Before any of the cowardly technicians could answer, however, several HYDRA agents in full combat gear poured into the room, armed to the teeth.

One moved too close, holding a syringe, and the assassin lunged without hesitation. His metal arm felt sluggish and heavy, having been in the middle of being repaired when he woke, but that didn't hinder his deadliness any as he swung with all the force he could muster at the man's jaw. A grim sort of smirk appeared on his features, feeling bone crack and give under his fist, the soldier dropping into a crumpled heap at his feet. He crushed the dropped syringe under his boot, the sound of the glass shattering morbidly satisfying.

Something was shouted in a language he couldn't catch, but he didn't give the soldiers the luxury of time to coordinate themselves. A scalpel, lifted from the near table that held the medical supplies, in his capable hands slit the throat of one of the agents before he even realized what had happened, the bleeding man roughly kicked away into another soldier. Another's throat was caught in his metal fingers when he went to prod him with a stunstick, the vertebra crunching loudly with a single squeeze. The body was casually tossed aside, a mere afterthought. Chaos erupted, which was exactly what the Asset had wanted, as he was able to easily dispatch agent after agent, until in the confusion he was able to slip out into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind him, bending the metal frame enough that the soldiers inside weren't getting out anytime soon.

Alarms began to blare, and he knew he didn't have much time. He needed to find where they were keeping Steve, needed to find out if he was alive, needed to get him out. The layout of the building was familiar, and he soon found himself tracing mental maps that he couldn't consciously remember. Identical doors in identical halls, yet somehow he knew the way, ending up in a neglected corner of whatever backwater HYDRA base this was. Detention level. He knew these rooms all too well. Broken memories of conditioning, of training and discipline flashed through his mind. It was enough to sour his stomach.

Only one of the rooms had light filtering through the dingy door window, and he just knew that had to be where they were keeping Steve. The door was thick steel, reinforced and heavy and bolted with more locks than he cared to count. It could have been made of vibranium and it wouldn't have been enough to keep him out. The Asset tore through the locks he could, picking the others he couldn't, using every skill in his considerable arsenal but his patience only lasted so long. Normally he could wait for days, one of a sniper's greatest attributes, but this was Steve and he needed inside now.

The sound of metal rending and groaning filled the level, the soldier slamming his metallic fist into the door over and over, bending and deforming the surface bit by bit. The servos and artificial tendons in his arm screamed in protest but he scarcely cared, eventually making a dent deep enough he could get his fingers inside the stop. He braced himself and pulled with all his weight, the fatigued and aged metal shredding in his hand. That just fed his ambition, and soon enough he was tearing through the door with both hands, unfeeling to the shards that sliced through his flesh and bone hand, and to the hot slickness of blood as it poured from his palm.

Desperation was beginning to claw at his mind. He knew agents would find out where he was soon enough, and he couldn't let them take him away. Not before he knew if Steve was still alive. Standing back, the assassin kicked the door with every ounce of strength he had. The metal gave way with a great resounding shudder, the hinges failing and door swinging open violently. He was inside before the door even had the chance to hit the wall when it swung wide.

Relief isn't anywhere near strong enough a word to convey the emotion the soldier felt when he saw Steve, battered and broken and still as he was, breathing and alive. At his side in an instant, the assassin assessed the Captain's condition and wounds within moments. The man was unconscious, the worst of his wounds hidden under layers and layers of pink-tinged gauze. Smaller injuries had been ignored, his skin was pallor and in some distant part of his mind the soldier recognized this. Recognized a tiny kid with a rattling cough and pale skin who always scared him half to death with the fact that he might not make it through winter.

Medical supplies still covered the table to the side of the cot he was placed on, and without a second thought or any concern for being captured, the former Soviet started to pick through the contents. He wrapped a quick bandage around the cuts to his hand to stem the bleeding, not wanting to risk getting it on Steve when who knew what had been pumped into his system. Clean gauze was soaked in disinfectant, the excess wrung out before it was pressed to a shallow cut that burned an angry red across the Captain's cheek. The serum had already begun healing his body, the wound already mostly closed, but for some reason he found himself fussing over it regardless.

The soldier hadn't patched anyone up save himself for decades. He remembered, very dimly, bandaging someone with crimson hair that glowed like a dying fire, but the memory was so hazy and distorted that it might as well have been a dream. He was used to sewing himself up, to prying bullets out of his body and mending jagged pieces of flesh back together. As a result, delicateness was not something he was intimately familiar with, yet it seemed his body remembered better than his brain, as he cleaned the man's wounds with an unfamiliar tender gentleness.

A crackle of memory fizzled in his mind, of him sitting in a muddy, snow-filled trench, tearing a scarf free of his neck and brandishing it as if to threaten some other person. He dimly recalled blood, from a wound of some kind to the arm of someone dressed in blue, and angrily muttering something about not signing up to be a mother as he wrapped his scarf around the limb. He remembered laughter from people he didn't know, or couldn't remember, and being called a jerk. The memory faded as quickly as it appeared, and within a second of its passing it was all but forgotten in favor of focusing on the task at hand.

"Well, seems like the dosage of sedative we gave you was a bit off." A calm voice suddenly broke the silence, the assassin's muscles seizing up in remembered fear as familiarity crashed over him like a wave. He didn't move for a long moment, bloody fingers hovering over another cut to the Avenger's chin, as if his stillness could be taken as a sign of submission.

There was an amused hum from behind him, one that faded into a dark, twisted sort of laugh. "At attention, воин." The order was issued sternly, and the soldier found himself turning around to face the man, posture stiff with unease and the beginnings of fear. The man, he knew him, the name Aiden provided by the bits of memory that survived each successive wipe. A crooked grin spread across the General's face and it caused the Asset's stomach to churn.

"They warned me that you were far more… damaged than we would have liked." Black spoke with all the casualness as if they were merely speaking about the weather, "It would have been easier just to put you down, but since we have Captain America in addition to our Winter Soldier…" he trailed off, malevolent smile spreading further across his face as he approached with a proud air to his movements. Once he was close enough, the suited man regarded him with all the affection one might have for a fine weapon, eyes appraising but cold and calculating, seeking only value.

"Why, I think what's left of SHIELD would do just about anything to get their hands on him, and you as well. Oh, the secrets they think you have… they'd do anything to wring them out of you, воин, but I'm never going to let that happen, don't you worry." The acidic sweetness to his voice made the soldier's blood run as cold as the river that haunted his nightmares. It was a tone all too familiar, yet for what felt like lifetimes that tone had been the closest semblance to kindness he'd ever experienced, and he'd latched onto it desperately. Now it made him sick.

Aiden brushed past him, leaning over the cot to look at the Captain's wounds. One of his hands reached out, and the soldier let out a growl that faded into a whine at the glare he received. The man's hand remained raised with a hint of threatening intent, and the assassin felt his muscles tense in the expectation of a blow. His programming might have degraded greatly due to being so long out of cryostasis, but enough of the framework was intact for him to not attack the man or outwardly resist his commands. He could only watch as he withdrew his hand, walking back towards the shattered door, his back to him.

"I see you have some… attachment to the Captain." The General's tone held the slightest hint of bitterness, something he knew was very dangerous, "That will not be tolerated. However…" his voice went quiet, that knowing smirk once again firmly planted on his features as he spun on his heel to face the soldier, "If you cooperate and let us fix all that damage Captain Rogers and his SHIELD allies have done to your mind, we might let him live. If you don't have any more of those outbursts, we might even let you see him." It was a ruse, he knew it for sure, but he had no choice but to nod in silent agreement. Arguing would signal that HYDRA's control had faltered dangerously, and he couldn't risk Steve's safety. For the first time in his memory, he found himself putting the well-being of another before his own.

"Good, good. In that case I expect you to return to medical immediately and let the doctors finish up their work. We need you in working order as soon as possible. I expect an update on your condition in three hours." With that, Aiden Black left the room. The soldier's hearing could pick up on the sound of footsteps running down the hall to retrieve him, likely signaled by the General, and he only had a few seconds. He couldn't run, couldn't try to fight or escape, as that would get Steve killed and he couldn't bring himself to even consider that possibility.

He'd have to play this game, even fall back under HYDRA's command if it meant keeping the other man alive. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. The soldiers crowded the room a half-second later, surrounding him and shepherding him out and away from the room, away from Steve. One of them fit the muzzle-mask over his face, and with its acquainted confines the soldier felt a foreign sense of revulsion budding in his chest. The familiarity of it all, and the horror that he found himself so easily slipping back into the mannerisms and routine, made the new fear that he might lose what little fragments of himself he'd managed to gain back seem very, very real.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The soft, rhythmic pattern of water drops pulled Steve out of the fog of unconsciousness, cutting through the static that seemed to fill his mind. He didn't feel any pain, not yet, but he felt heavy and weak and so very tired. Stagnant, stale air coated his throat, thick with a sharp, sanitized scent that settled on his tongue with a faintly bitter, familiar taste. The air itself felt dense, as if he was breathing through cotton shoved down his throat; if he hadn't known better, he would have thought he was having an asthma attack. There was a rattling, ghastly wheeze every handful of seconds in addition to the dripping that had woken him, and it took a long, sobering moment before he realized that he was hearing his own breathing.

Drip.

Drip.

His torso felt constricted, tight and immobile under what felt like a cocoon of gauze and medical tape. As uncomfortable as it was it assured him that his wounds had been tended to, but by whom the Captain had no idea. An experimental twitch of his fingers assured him that he wasn't paralyzed and could move, however difficult it may have been. Everything felt fuzzy, it was the only way to describe it, unable to feel or hear anything clearly. Everything was blurred into a mess of muffled noises and sweeping sensations, nothing distinct.

Drip.

A slight shift of his head told him just how stiff and sore his neck was. How long was I out? The thought struck him suddenly, followed immediately by the cold electricity of fear. Where am I? His eyes were forced open, but shut immediately due to the blinding light of the room. Steve groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, tilting his head trying to block out every bit of that painful brightness. The movement made him aware that his head was propped up slightly, a pillow tucked behind it. It reminded him of when he'd have respiratory infections in winter and Bucky would give him all the pillows to keep his head and shoulders lifted so he could breathe easier—

Bucky. Emily.

The panic that gripped him was all-consuming, shredding through the muddled fog in his mind like iron claws. "B-Buck… Em..." the words barely left his throat, voice hoarse and rasping and lungs suddenly alight with crackling fire at the effort. The words brought the taste of copper to his lips, blood he was sure, but he scarcely cared. "B… Bucky! Emily!" His eyes shot open again, ignoring the pain of the light and he looked frantically for any sign of the soldier. Everything came crashing back in a tangle of bloody memories—the fight, the sniper, Bucky collapsing in front of him, felled by the commander—and in horror he realized they had been captured. His own pain was ignored as he tried to push himself up, the room spinning as he did so, his own weakness now undeniably apparent.

A strong, cold hand gripped his shoulder, pushing him back down onto the cot before he could even think of trying to search. Moments later a figure moved into his vision, leaning over him with a face obscured by a curtain of dark, unruly hair. He heard a hushed word of Russian, tone soft, reassuring in its sound although he didn't understand it. The Captain's vision was too blurry to see many details, but then again, he didn't need any details to recognize him.

A dozen words tried to spill out of him at once—you're alright, you're here, I was so scared for you, Buck, where's Em — but nothing left him save a wheezy exhale as he smiled in relief. He wanted to stand, to make sure Bucky was alright, to tend to any wounds he had, but he was all too aware that he couldn't do a damned thing in this state. Bucky was here and in the end that was the most important thing. Everything else could be confronted and dealt with later.

Without another thought Steve had raised his left arm, hesitantly brushing a few stray strands of hair out of the way before cupping his cheek. He wanted to make sure he was really there, that this wasn't some horrible HYDRA trick, that it wasn't the blood loss and whatever medicines he was full of making him see things. Bucky's skin was cold, rough against his fingers, but very much alive and very much real. He didn't even try to stop his smile from spreading a bit when he saw how the soldier leaned into the touch a bit instead of shying away or swatting at his hand.

"… about time you woke up." Bucky's voice was quiet and scratchy, just the barest hint of a Brooklyn accent shining through as he moved away, turning to look at what Steve guessed was the door. He let his hand fall back to his side, cringing a bit when he felt a tug at the crook of his arm. IV line; must have been what the dripping was. He tried to ask how long he'd been out but only managed to cough, tacky blood rattling in his aching lungs. The soldier glanced down to him at the sound, but quickly went back to his vigil.

"Three days" of course he'd have been able to know what he was trying to say, they'd been able to finish each other sentences in the past, "you were hurt bad, Steve, real bad. Still hurt bad, but I won't let them touch you." His voice trailed off, words carrying an edge as sharp as any blade, but also the barest hint of sadness. It was the most Bucky had spoken to him since he found him sleeping seemingly lifetimes ago, and in some distant part of the Captain his soul practically sung. He sounded more like Bucky, more like the cocky jerk he'd grown up with in Brooklyn than he ever had since he'd become the Winter Soldier. A second later just what he had said sunk in, and his optimism wavered.

"… w-who?" the Avenger just barely croaked it out, a sense of dread sitting heavy in his heart. He knew who had captured them, knew where they were, but maybe he could deny it all away. After all, Bucky was here with him, right? They would have separated them for sure...

"HYDRA." The name was spat out, deadly venom saturating his voice. Steve's blood ran cold in his veins, the room falling silent with only the constant drip drip of the isotonic IV bag keeping time between them with its ceaseless rhythm. That little bit of hope that he had been clinging to wavered, knowing just how bad a situation they were in, but it didn't go out. Emily and Sam were still out there, and he knew they wouldn't give up on him. They'd find them, somehow; Emily was clever and resourceful, she'd pick up the trail and find them, and Sam was loyal and wouldn't stop until he was found.

His lungs hurt too much to try and continue the conversation, and as his eyes adjusted he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The measly cot he was lying on was pushed against a stone wall that just seemed to exude a wet chill, meaning they were likely somewhere underground. Light buzzed blearily from a thin fluorescent fixture in the ceiling, a pitchy and irritating hum occasionally creeping over the drip drop of the IV. The walls were dingy and ill-kempt, but a glance to the door surprised him. Door was a loose term as it looked like it had been holding back a tiger, shattered glass and broken old steel littering the floor, but the door itself was made of new shiny metal. Judging from the debris, the damaged door he was currently looking at was a replacement and the first one made up the scraps on the floor. It took a few seconds before Steve realized it wasn't from Bucky attempting to break out, but from him breaking in.

That realization made his chest tighten, breath hitching slightly as he tried to breathe around the lump that built in his throat. His last hazy moments of consciousness in that alleyway, of Bucky crouched in front of him teary-eyed with gentling hands pressed to his wounds, he'd thought he had dreamed them. Thought that in his pained delirium he'd imagined hearing the soldier's meek voice saying "I'm not leaving you behind". Thought that maybe he'd mistaken seeing Bucky breaking through for those precious few minutes, and it looks like he just might have. He'd clearly torn his way out of wherever HYDRA had tried to lock him up, but instead of making an escape, he found him and broke in and stayed right by his side.

"Y-you… stayed with m-me…" Steve's voice was hardly above a raspy whisper, vision distorting as tears welled up. He wasn't sure if it was the pain or medicine or just a moment of vulnerability that brought them out, but he didn't make any attempts to hide them. Bucky protected me. He'd fought to keep HYDRA away from him instead of saving himself. Even if Buck didn't remember much of his past he had still fought to keep him safe like all those years ago. The Avenger breathed heavily, choking on his own words as he tried to say too many things at once. He knew this man wasn't the Bucky he knew so well from his past, but he was bits and pieces of him and he wasn't going to stop helping him even if the suave jerk he had spent his life with never really came back.

"Quit that" Bucky's voice was gruff, but the fingers that hesitantly ruffled his hair a moment later were gentle and familiar. "You're gonna tear that lung again if you keep talking. Get some more sleep, I'll be here when you wake up." It wasn't a command from the Winter Soldier, it was spoken too softly for that, instead it sounded more like back in their apartment in the old days, when Bucky would try to wrangle him to bed when he was sick and not cooperating. He couldn't count how many times Buck had just picked up all coughing hundred and ten pounds of him and put him to bed under every moth-eaten blanket they owned, no matter how much Steve protested. He never admitted it to him, but after his mom had died, Bucky's sometimes over-protective mollycoddling had meant the world to him. “Buck... Where's Emily?” suddenly Steve blinked, narrowing his eyebrows. “Where's she?”

Winter Soldier let out a quiet sigh, turning his eyesight away.

“Buck...” Steve felt like his heart stopped within second. “I have to know.” “She's probably dead” Bucky shrughed slightly, without a shadow of emotions on his face. “I haven't heard from her since many days.”

Bucky continued to run his fingers through Steve's hair, something he'd done countless times when the artist had been sick and confined to Buck's bed. The radiator in Steve's old room had always had piss-poor timing when it came to breaking, so whenever he had shown the slightest sign of illness Buck had surrendered his much-warmer room and they both slept curled up on that ratty old bed to try and keep warm. He wasn't sure if Bucky remembered any of that or if he was just acting on instinct or something else, but just like it had back then in their apartment, it put the Captain to sleep in only a few minutes.

With him lulled back into sleep so quickly, he hadn't had the time to notice that Bucky was dressed back into his combat gear, or see the troubled, guilty expression that he wore. Bucky hadn't wanted him to see either.

The passing of days no longer registered, the only timestamps he recalled being changes in the Captain's condition. Some days he was awake when he was bidden time to spend in the cell, most times he was unconscious or in a restorative sleep as the serum tried to patch his body back together. The tainted, imperfect serum that flowed in his own veins was doing much the same, skin and bones mending beneath his clothing. It burned with a throbbing sort of heat and sometimes hours passed as he passively observed the healing, watching his own flesh knitting back together until only scars remained.

His body was healthier, the Asset noticed dimly, his new handlers eager to get him back to working conditions as soon as possible. The constant IV drips, the strange injections, the foodstuffs he was prodded to eat, they'd all filled him out so he didn't look quite so emaciated. He halfheartedly guessed that the serum had busied itself rebuilding his muscles with the amble nutrients he was getting as much as it was healing his wounds.

With his shoulder healing up, the white-coated techs had taken to repairing the extensive damage to his prosthetic. It now moved fluidly, easily, the burn that gnashed its teeth into his artificial nerves now abated and calmed. The plates had been smoothed and repaired, the blood and grime cleaned away, although the red star he had tried to scratch off with his own fingernails and anything within reach those first few weeks remained marred and damaged. The techs didn't try to reapply it; now that he was no longer tied to the Red Room and the Soviets, they had no need to flaunt their emblem.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they'd try to deploy him, to test his programing, but he knew it was mostly due to their eagerness to try and patch the damage that had been caused by the exposing of SHIELD as HYDRA. Pierce was dead, but the saying still held true; cut off one head, two more will take its place. Aiden Black was not the new leader, but he had fallen in as his new handler, and that bit of his programming was still sound enough to prevent him from refusing orders from the man.

Today, however, he'd been granted time with the Captain after preforming well in training. He knew that Black wanted to wipe him, to rebuild the programming and perhaps even try the same with the healing Captain, but he knew that the man couldn't. This facility lacked the proper equipment to carry out that procedure safely, or to rewrite and build the programming back into his mind. It was likely why they were even letting him see the other man. It was a way to keep him under control, giving him time with him like a dog being trained and rewarded with scraps. He ought to have been offended but honestly he didn't care; any time with Steve was worth whatever hell they put him through.

His earlier thoughts were all pushed aside as soon as he entered the room they were keeping Steve in. The soldiers always left them alone, Black convinced in his control over the Asset, and he preferred it this way. He knew he was always under surveillance, but the illusion of peace he had with the Captain was enough. Despite his few hours of reprieve here he never allowed his guard to lower, never spoke out of turn or gave any indication that the programming had slipped. He couldn't allow that knowledge to fall into Black's hands. He could find some way to wipe him clean and order him to kill the man he'd fought so hard to defend. The thought alone made his breathing falter.

"… Bucky?" blinking, his focus was pulled back to the present, to the Captain laid out on the cot. The Asset straightened himself, shoved down all his disjointed thoughts, padded over to the bedside to look down at him. He might have the perfected serum but he had been wounded horrifically; he was still all but bedridden with the injuries he'd sustained. He was half convinced the only reason he survived at all was because the Captain was just too damn stubborn to die. Dim memories of back alley fights, bright blond hair matted with blood and halfhearted smiles mired by bruising and dirt flitted across his mind for a brief moment.

The Asset didn't reply with words, merely humming in response as he sat down in the empty chair next to the cot. Some distant part of him was glad to see that Steve was awake and aware, as the last few visits he'd been groggy and barely able to speak, mumbling in a drug and pain-induced haze about things the Soldier didn't remember. It was stressful, but he would rather spend his time here, questioned over things he didn't understand or know, than be primed and molded to fall back into HYDRA's command.

"… you're in gear." Steve's voice was quiet, but he could still hear the apprehension and resignation in his tone. It bothered the Asset greatly. Black had hinted at possibly sending him out on some sort of simple assignment so he'd dressed himself in his heavy Kevlar vest and armor, hiding his healing wounds and returning build. The less Steve knew about how long he'd been trapped here the better. The last thing he needed was him hatching some idiotic scheme to escape that would get him killed.

"… d'you get your orders?" the words came out of his mouth slurred and soft, his mind obviously still a bit hazed from whatever drugs they had to have pumped him full of to keep him manageable. It set the Soldier's teeth on edge, the thought of them doing something like that to Steve, but he couldn't protest or else run the risk of being separated fully. The statement did, however, fire some distant, disjointed memory. He could almost smell the musty air of some damp alleyway, blood in the mouth of his friend as he spoke and looked at him in a strange mix of admiration and sadness. It made his heart ache in a way he wasn't familiar with, even without any further context to bolster it.

"… yeah, Steve." His voice was still rough with disuse, awkward and stiff and lacking in the emotion Steve held when he talked. The last time he'd been here the other man had panicked, remembering their capture, tried to fight his way free of the web of IV line that held him. At least this way, with him lost in his own sleepy awareness, he was easy to convince all was well although every lie he told tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Be careful, Buck." Steve mumbled a bit when the Asset stood and began to pick at his wound wrappings, drawing his eyes from his work to meet his. They were hazy from pain and sleep, greyed and sick looking in a way that made the Soldier's stomach knot up. He swallowed thickly and focused on checking all of Steve's wounds, not trusting any of the HYDRA medics or their work. Most of his wounds had closed, the deepest pink with new-grown scar tissue and the lesser wounds already silvered and faded into his skin.

"I will." The response was automatic, not looking away from his task now. He was replacing the packing in Steve's side, where the sniper round had ripped his chest cavity open. Even the serum was having trouble with the wound, and if it hadn't been for that (and his damn fool stubbornness) he surely would have bled out right there in the street.

Steve made a noise halfway between a whimper and groan when he started to pull the bloodied, coagulated mess of packing out of the wound, obviously feeling it even through the fog of painkillers. He squirmed enough to make his task difficult, but at the same time it lifted his spirits somewhat. His strength was coming back, slowly, but it was a good sign. His body was starting to heal enough for his system to begin filtering the medicines in his body more efficiently; a hazy memory bubbled up of Steve complaining about Morita's morphine shot not taking the edge off a bullet wound he'd gotten in the calf. This had to be a good sign. It just had to be.

The wound still looked horrific, and he knew he couldn't chance an escape with Steve in this state. The ragged tear was having trouble healing over due to just how much tissue loss and damage he'd sustained, despite the serum flowing in his veins. Even with Steve still moving around he was able to place more sterile packing into the wound and wrap it tight with gauze and medical tape, after treating it with a potent antibacterial wash that he made sure to carry on his person at all times. That hadn't been fun. Steve had gasped hoarsely and it'd hurt him to hear, but it needed to be done. He still didn't trust these HYDRA doctors to treat the wounds correctly, even though he had little formal medical training himself. It didn't matter in his mind; his body and muscle memory knew Steve and how to treat him better than anyone else and like hell he was going to just sit passively by and let someone who didn't know the first thing about Steve Rogers try to patch his wounds.

With his work finished and Black no doubt waiting on him, the Soldier knew he had to cut his visit short. The man had mentioned something about a cleanup mission, to take care of some SHIELD holdouts that had grouped up near where he and Steve had been picked up. It would be a quick and clean mission. They'd likely pair him with the surviving members of the Strike unit to keep him under observation, but he could easily use their fear of him to make them keep their distance. He had a feeling these 'SHIELD holdouts' might be whoever Steve had alerted the night they were captured. If that was the case this mission was going to go very poorly.

"I'm leaving, don't get into any trouble while I'm gone." The Soldier mumbled a bit, not wanting to leave but knowing he couldn't stay. He gently smoothed down Steve's unruly hair with his right hand, always the right, something he felt like he'd done countless times a hundred lifetimes ago. When he was around the other man it felt like he went on autopilot, doing things he had no clear conscious memory of ever knowing how to do, yet with the ease and familiarity as if he'd been doing them all his life. He knew how to calm him down, how he liked his pillows just so, how he had an awful habit of kicking the blankets off in his sleep, things he had no business knowing yet he did.

"No promises, Buck." Steve breathed out heavily, eyes already half-lidded with drowsy exhaustion but with a crooked grin on his face. The Soldier felt a near overwhelming urge to roll his eyes and swat his shoulder but he held back, knowing he was still badly wounded and not wanting any sign of playfulness to be seen by the cameras. He merely brushed a few dirty blond strands of hair out of Steve's face instead, hiding the action by pretending to hold his palm there to check his temperature. It was a poor ruse, with his fingers lingering a moment too long, body too loose with the feeling of safety, but he didn't think it would be caught.

This mission had him nervous. It sat low in his stomach like a weight of molten lead, burning and heavy and disorienting. It felt familiar in some distant way; he remembered feeling it before, while sitting in the snow at the edge of some high cliff, the snow kept off him with a shield held above his head by the man he was leaning heavily against for warmth. The memory was pushed down as he closed the door behind him, lock clicking softly at his back before he allowed himself to be pushed by the decayed programming to report to the command center. The sooner he completed his assignment the sooner he could return to Steve's side, and that was the only thought that kept his body in motion.

"Have you heard anything back from Jarvis, Stark? We've got to narrow down our search parameters."

The past few weeks had been complete and utter hell. Without SHIELD, running a rescue mission for one Steven Grant Rogers and one possibly-hostile Winter Soldier had been, to put it mildly, completely fucking exhausting. But, this was hardly enough to make Emily Vandom crack. She'd done more with less resources and less time, and this time she had friends to help her. She poured herself another mug of coffee, glancing over to Stark tapping away at one of his fancy tablets and to Wilson and his makeshift workstation on the floor with his wingpack.

After last time when they got separated, Emily didn't know what to do and how to help Bucky and Steve, so she did the last thing that remained – she had to contact with Sam Wilson, who was (as she knew) a closest friend of Steve.

Sam, although she had known him not too long, had slotted himself into the ragtag group as easily as clockwork, as if he'd been crafted to be a part of their unit. For the first week he'd housed both herself and Barton, who'd come as soon as Emily had filled him in on the situation. It was reassuring having her partner in crime back at her side. Stark, for all his crassness and bluster, had dropped everything when she informed him of Steve's capture. As difficult as he was to work with some days, he really could be an invaluable ally as long as he kept himself occupied.

"Jarvis is going as fast as he can but there's a lot of data to go through," Tony's voice was heavy with lost sleep, as if the dark patches under his eyes and the hot coffee mug held tight in his hand weren't enough of a giveaway, "HYDRA's hiding themselves pretty well, or what's left of it anyway. They're probably disguising their shipments and covering their tracks more than usual. I doubt they'd take them out of the city yet, it'd draw too much attention, but, it is HYDRA so who knows."

Tony must have repeated that a hundred times in a hundred different ways, and she knew that the tension was getting to them all, but it didn't make her any less anxious. They'd moved into Steve's apartment and the empty next door apartment after contacting Sharon, who provided her keys to the locks which had yet to be changed. She was doing what she could to aid in the search, but with her new job in the FBI and Emily still in hot political water, she didn't want to add any fuel to that fire with her presence. If word got lose in the government that Captain America had been captured while housing the Winter Soldier, well, the repercussions were something none of them wanted to deal with.

"I'm going up to check the perimeter with Clint. Let me know if you find anything, and while Jarvis works maybe you could give Sam a hand." Sitting idle and waiting just wasn't in her nature. Sam was working on his damaged wingpack, which Tony had started to repair but had to drop to prep Jarvis for the scan of the city's information apparatus. They'd need Sam's help once the AI located whatever HYDRA hellhole Steve and the Winter Soldier had been taken to. Even though Steve seemed to trust him, there was still a wary part of her that couldn't dismiss the possibility that maybe the Winter Soldier had lead Steve into a trap, that he'd been a Trojan horse or some form of bait to lure him into HYDRA's clutches. It was a grim and farfetched possibility, but one that was all too real.

The cool air outside once she reached the roof was a welcome source of sobriety, washing away her muddled thoughts and letting her release her own tensions with a soft exhale. The last week had damn near run her ragged. To have something like this happen so soon after the fall of SHIELD, before she'd had a chance to really recover, was just not something she had ever expected to happen. She'd thought she would have had a bit more time before she'd have to pay her debt back to Steve for saving her life.

"Lower levels secure, how're things up here?" she sat down heavily near the archer, just in case he had his hearing aids turned down. He was perched on the corner of the building, goggled eyes on the building entrance and the surrounding streets. His bow was held in loose fingers, eyes never stopping their scan of the streets when he replied.

"Well, there's been an awful lot of owls around but no, haven't seen any HYDRA agents or anything unusual." Clint replied, voice a bit hoarse from not having spoken in several hours. Emily roughly shoved her half-empty coffee mug into his side, nudging him until he sighed loudly and took it with his free hand.

"You've been on watch for hours, take a few minutes." She knew he was as tense and eager to find the Captain, but with nothing to do but stand watch it had to be bothering him a good deal. "Stark has Jarvis checking shipping records and anything else we can think of to try and narrow down a few spots. We don't think they're out of the city. Sam's getting his wings ready and if we have some locales by the end of the night we can move out as early as the morning."

"Good." Clint mumbled through a mouthful of coffee, having nearly chugged the whole cup while Emily had been talking. "I've got Soviet cooties now but thanks for the coffee, 'Tasha." With an exasperated sigh Emily punched his side, which made him jump and the coffee mug to slip out of his hand and down to the street below with a muffled shattering of ceramic. "Aw, mug no."

Emily laughed, a true laugh, the kind that ended with her snorting into her sleeve. Maybe it was the tension of the night but it felt good to just laugh, and she heard Clint huff out a laugh as well. The last few days have weighed on her so much that it was nice to let off a little of the steam. She turned to make a witty comment but Clint frantically signed "quiet" at her, eyes locked down where the mug had fallen. She was up and looking over the ledge of the building in an instant, keeping low so she wouldn't be seen.

She heard him notch an arrow and draw, his breathing evening out the way it did when he aimed. She spotted in the street below within a few seconds; a shadow out of place, a brief flash of reflected light off of metal. Emily didn't hesitate to stop the archer, hand over his as he prepared to let the arrow fly, hissing out a breath between her teeth as she struggled to choose what to do. Downing him was likely the wisest option, but, if he was here, there was a chance Steve was too.

"Don't," she knew that Clint wouldn't, but speaking her thoughts couldn't hurt any, "This isn't right. If he was going to try and pick us off he would have while we were distracted. Something's going on." Clint kept his bow at half-pull, and she didn't blame him; she was cautious and untrusting herself, but as she watched the Winter Soldier looked right at them yet didn't duck behind cover. He just looked right at them.

"He could have agents all around the building we can't just sit here," he whispered harshly, pulling the bow to full-draw when the Soldier advanced until he was standing just a couple yards from the building. He was masked but lacked the goggles, dressed full in HYDRA gear with a rifle slung at his back, but hands empty.

"This isn't right, Clint." As if on cue, the Winter Soldier raised his hands, empty palms towards them. A show of submission. Emily bit her lip, not knowing what was going on in the man's head but knowing that this wasn't one of HYDRA's normal tactics. Either this was the man that had grown up with Steve or a twisted HYDRA trap, or something in-between. "… I'm going down there. Cover me."

"Emily you can't be..." she didn't give him the chance to try and talk her out of it, jumping onto the fire escape two floors down. It rattled so loud in the otherwise silent alleyway that she was sure HYDRA agents would be all over her, but seconds ticked by and there wasn't any movement, not even from the assassin in the street below. She was far from unarmed, with a pistol in her pockets, but she would never underestimate the Winter Soldier.

Being on the ground, mere feet away from the man that had shot her just a few months ago, is… tense, to say the least. Her shoulder aches. He looks different now in a way she can't really place; he's thinner than he was in her memories, eyes dark with lost sleep and weary in a way she never thought was possible from so menacing a man. He looked ragged and downtrodden and every bit as awful as Steve had described. Beneath the layers of caution and defensiveness, she admitted she felt a twinge of, pity was too strong a word but something like it, for her former mentor.

"What do you want, James." The words came out more bitter than she had intended, but then again maybe it was better to put up that façade. The man standing before her wasn't the same anymore, but hell, she changed also...

"Vitani." His voice was muffled under the muzzle-mask but that didn't diminish their effect. Vitani. Emily hadn't heard her old nickname in what felt like lifetimes. It told her that he remembered at least fragments of their past, much like her. "… I need your help." That definitely wasn't what she expected to hear him say next.

"My help?" Emily repeated the statement softly, "… Steve. How can I help?" she watched his eyes light up the dimmest bit. James slowly lowered his right hand, pulling something small and flat from his pocket. An arrow cut the tense air between them, embedding itself into the pavement a few inches from the man's foot; a clear, grim warning not to test his luck. It gave the Soldier pause before he completed his action, a small, scuffed moleskin sketchbook clutched in his hand.

"They have him." James's voice was rough and so tired, the book gently placed in her hands with his fingers lingering on her own for the briefest moment, "They think I'm on their leash still, Emily. Steve is hurt, I can't get him out on my own." His tone was almost pleading and it painfully twisted something up inside of her, "They sent me here to kill you all with the Strike team, you're not safe here any longer." Even without it being said, she knew that he had killed his own team to prevent them from hurting them.

"Where did they take him? Where are you based?" she got no clear answer, the Soldier merely tilting his head towards the thin sketchpad in her hands. When she opened the cover she realized there was a roughly drawn map, made of taken streets and turns that he must have taken to reach the building. It could lead them right to them.

"Emily, listen to me" his voice was suddenly soft, shot through with remorse, "they're trying to get me under control again. If they manage to, I need you to put me down. Steve won't be able to, and you're the only person I can trust to do it right. They might not even need to do it, I might try and hurt him if I'm not in my right mind. Please, I need you to promise." Without even seeing his reaction she knew her façade fell for the briefest of moments, blindsided by the request. She'd expected him to be hostile, to be defiant at the least, but not this.

She couldn't form the words but nodded, setting her jaw and straightening her back. The look of relief that filled his eyes was almost as heartbreaking as the whole damn situation. He started to turn but she stopped him, slipping a small object into his palm, curling his calloused fingers around it with her own hands. It was her necklace she used to wear everyday, in a shape of swan with outstretched wings. Seconds ticked by before he broke eye contact with her, looking down to his hand that she still held and then to the arrow by his boot.

"… thank you, моя любовь." She almost missed it, that softly mumbled bit of Russian that solidified in her mind that this was really James talking, and not the Winter Soldier.  She never thought she would ever hear that from him again. Emily gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she backed away, the Soldier doing the same, storing the thin metal object she had given him into one of his pockets.

"Be careful, James." Emily spoke softly, "… дорогой.." She watched him stiffen at the word, scanning her eyes for a long moment before he turned his head, breath exhaled loudly through the mask. She allowed her gaze to return to the roof, where Clint was still perched watchfully, another arrow at the ready. When she turned back to the Winter Soldier he was gone, just like the ghost he was. Her grip on the sketchbook tightened as resolve settled in. As it stood, HYDRA was holding two men from her, and they would soon come to regret that action.

His mind had always been too loud. Too loud, too busy, too full of things he had no context for. He could see them in bright flashes of vivid experience; the smell of a Brooklyn alley after a midnight rain, the feel of a stray cat's fur under his palm as it arched into his touch, the sound of a train's wheels far too close, he could remember small bits in crisp clarity but the whole picture was broken. He held the shattered pieces of a great mosaic with no blueprint, no frame of reference; the grand work it once was lost, leaving him with only a hundred million broken fragments and no way to tell how they fit together.

At least, it had been that way for the decades under HYDRA's command. He'd been out of cryo so long, his mind let go to mend without the wipes and supplied with small threads to stitch the patchwork of memories together, that now he was slowly piecing that mosaic of his former life back together. His memories were less flashes of disjointed fragments and now short contingencies; instead of just an isolated sound of pencils scratching at paper he now had a tentative picture of a skinny boy hunched dutifully over a thin sketchpad as he drew, or how a Russian lullaby now reminded him of a dozen young faces in a dim military compound.

With the tentative return of his memories came the emotions attached to them. He remembered the fluttery lightness in his stomach when he laughed loud and long around a campfire with Steve and soldiers just on this edge of familiarity, or how the fear had felt like tendrils of ice snaking up his spine when he heard a door slam shut over the rattling of train wheels. He remembered what fondness felt like, how it had bloomed with a fragile warmth behind his ribs for the first time in decades when he heard the first few unsure English words leave Emily's mouth, how she'd smiled like the sun after she held her first conversation in it with him. He remembered how it felt to have the emotions, but what he lacked entirely was how it felt to receive them, to give them freely and openly.

The strings that HYDRA had cut and mangled were slowly reconnecting, threading through the holes in the decaying programming and forming stronger bonds with each day. He hid it, he hid it deep and he hid it well. If Black knew he would be isolated, probably even forcibly wiped with what little equipment the base had even if it had a high chance of killing him. He knew how Black operated, his worth was only measured by his effectiveness in the field, and he knew as soon as that was permanently diminished he was obsolete. Just another loose end to be cleaned up, a broken machine to be discarded, a toothless wolf to be tied down and shot.

A week had passed since his meeting with Emily, since he'd given her every bit of information he could to help them find Steve. He could feel the programming responding to his HYDRA handlers, feel himself falling easier and easier into old ways and habits, found it harder to recall the broken shards of his memories. It scared him, it honestly scared him. What if tomorrow he woke up and all of the progress he had made was undone? What if tomorrow he looked at Steve and didn't see him, and saw only a target or mission or body to be disposed of? If he lost Steve, if he lost him and Emily, then he knew there'd be no saving him from HYDRA; they were the only ones who stood even the slightest chance of picking up his shattered pieces. This act of putting faith and trust in others was so foreign to him it was almost terrifying but he knew he couldn't do this on his own.

The soft sound of exhaled breath brought him back to reality, eyes cutting down to where Steve was resting his head on his thigh. The wound to his right side had healed enough for him to move around somewhat, although his definition of moving was rather singular. Steve had rolled onto his left side, using the Soldier's lap as a pillow, the thin white blanket he was wrapped in streaked with rust red from the most recent change of bandages. The Asset had deemed him well enough to chance providing him with a shirt, bright SHIELD logo across the chest of it, the sight of which made him feel sick. Steve was curled up somewhat, back mostly to the Asset, trying to shrink into himself but twisting himself up in the blanket and his own limbs in the process. Wide open to attack. The thought stung in his mind, eyes narrowing a fraction behind the thick protective goggles, and was dispelled quickly. Steve Rogers was not a target, threat or mark to him, but his programming deemed otherwise.

Even with the serum Steve's wounds were taking too long to heal for the Asset to be comfortable. The horrific gunshot to his side had only just closed up, a stark red swath of raw muscle stretched taunt over mending bones. The wound to his collarbone had healed much quicker, now a silvery patch of scarred skin that was fading with every passing day. His breathing had evened out to a wheezy constant, no longer sputtering and fluid-filled. It was a small comfort to the Asset.

The HYDRA doctors kept him sedated heavily most days now, preventing him from attempting to fight back or flee. The Asset knew the drugs well enough, as they had been used on him in the past when he woke up from cryo. It had kept him docile and pliant and it made him sick to see Steve reduced to the same state. He was burning through the dosage much quicker than he ever had, sometimes snapping to awareness with a feral sort of desperation to escape. Black made an awful point to make him be the one to administer the syrette, make him stand and watch as Steve collapsed and wheezed and tried to fight the drug, always to fail. Black couldn't wipe him, but he was trying his damnedest to break him through other means.

He'd been given less and less time with the Captain, forced into training exercise after training exercise, with little rest in between. The goggles hid how cloudy from exhaustion his eyes had gotten, how dark the patches under them had become, rendering him less and less able to fight back against orders. He wanted to gnash his teeth and lash out at every turn but he didn't have near the strength to keep doing so. He was so tired. He was never going to stop fighting but the programming was much stronger in his depleted state, the feeling of it guiding his movements almost second nature after decades under its control.

Stress sat heavy on the Soldier's shoulders, weighing him down and filling him with dread. His right hand was gently carding through Steve's hair, curling through golden strands that had grown during their captivity. He had orders from Black himself, an ultimate test for his programming, and he could feel it straining in his mind, the cogs and gears of HYDRA's control creaking and screeching in protest against his unwillingness to comply. He'd known this order was coming since his capture, known since they let Steve recover, known since they let him visit him as a reward.

The possibility of it had eaten at his mind since his first agreement to comply with Black's wishes, but now that the command had been given the reality of it all had crashed down on him. It was punishment, he knew it, punishment for not killing Emily and the small group she had gathered, for killing his own team to protect them. Black wanted him to know that he wasn't to make decisions and couldn't think for himself, and Black's sick sense of humor had been summed up in his simple order. He wanted balance; since he couldn't kill Emily and her group, he had to take another's life.

He held a knife in his metal hand.

"Kill the Captain, Soldier."

Even hours later the words still rang in his ears, a roar that threatened to drown out his own thoughts. He couldn't reject a direct command from a handler such as Black, yet he'd managed to hold out this long, kept his blade from marring the unblemished skin of the blond's neck. He could feel the press of it bearing down on his mind, burning behind his temples and tugging at his limbs, but he fought it. He gritted his teeth under the muzzle-mask and hissed out his breath, trying to will himself to throw the knife away from them but his arm wouldn't respond. He couldn't disarm himself but he found he could keep himself from moving to attack; he was at a grim stalemate with the programming.

"Slit his throat, Soldier. I want you to watch him die."

A strangled sort of noise choked in the Asset's throat, swallowed down thickly as he struggled to keep from showing his distress outwardly. He didn't even realize his hands were shaking until Steve made a confused sound, tilting his head to look up at him with one medicine-fogged eye in silent question. It just made the Soldier's hands tremble more. He'd done everything he could to try and protect the few people he knew with certainty and it was being warped into Steve's own death; everything he'd done was going to kill the man he'd tried so hard to protect.

"… Bucky?"

The Asset's whole body shuddered at the other's voice, shaking so much he could hardly sit. He pulled his hand away and watched the other's face, thankful for the first time in decades for the mask that covered his expression. Steve couldn't see the pained look on his face, see how panicked and wild his eyes were through the goggles. Black's agents had locked him in here and he could see the shadows of them through the small square window on the door; he knew that they would keep him in here until he completed his mission. He'd lasted this long, he just had to keep telling himself he just had to hang on a little longer.

He had to look away. He couldn't look at Steve without the programming screaming to lunge, to hold him down and slash the blade across his open throat. The inner mechanisms of his metal arm whirled and purred, plates calibrating and lying flat and repeating, unfeeling fingers tight around the handle of the knife that he could hear cracks forming on the resin grip. He felt like some sort of predator, a monster; Steve had done nothing but try to protect and aid him and when he needed him to return the favor here he was, holding the knife that would kill him.

Muffled voices from the HYDRA agents outside, combined with their restlessly shifting shadows through the window, set off alarms in the Asset's mind. Something was going on. It was likely Black coming to inspect his progress and the thought of it was enough to worsen his shaking. He was being pulled in a dozen different directions; Black's words tugged at him to attack, his own mind screamed at him to get Steve out of this hellhole and protect him, while the programming whispered encouragements to complete his mission and be rewarded with the quiet sleep of cryo.

The weight in his lap vanished and he didn't dare look to see; he could hear Steve straining to sit up, breath wheezing out of his still-healing lungs from the effort. The programming lurched at the opportunity like a starving animal presented with a meal, teeth bared and desperate for blood. It'd be so easy to just turn and plunge the knife into his back; the blade was long enough to reach his heart through his ribs if he aimed right, he'd bleed out if it didn't outright kill him..

"Buck."

His grip on the knife tightened, servos in his arm whirring into readiness. If he completed his mission Black would put him in cryo, would stop all the noise of the broken memories in his head and let him rest; he was so tired, he'd run and fought for so long that even the horrors of his captivity seemed like a sweet relief from the pain of remembering. The fragments of his memories had always just been background noise before, but now with time and healing they were loud, intrusive, overwhelming and smothering. He couldn't handle it on his own.

"Buck, something's going on, we need to get out of here..."

He was so far lost in his own mind, moving without knowing, drowning inside his own thoughts and broken memories. There was only so long one could fight before it all collapsed, until one gives in under the pressure. With his memories a jumbled heap, struggling to stitch together, the pain of it all was overpowering. He felt trapped inside a cage like a wild animal, desperate to get out and escape from all the noise.

The soft touch of warm fingers on his right arm triggered an immediate response, twisting and clamping his hand onto a still-healing shoulder, knife edge pressed to soft skin. He was instantly still, muscles wound tight like a spring, blade biting into his throat just enough to draw a single trickle of blood. Steve, this is Steve, stop. He was horrified, wanting nothing more than to bolt out the door before he could do something to hurt him more, but he couldn't move. He could only watch as Steve swallowed, eyes staring into his featureless goggles, confused and frightened but, God, still so bright.

"Bucky, put it down… please…"

A sound that could have been a whimper escaped him, stomach turning in disgusted horror at himself. Yet he still couldn't move the weapon away. He couldn't just ignore his mission but he could try and fight it, try to delay it, give Steve enough time to try and get away but unless he got a new command he had to complete it. It was the worst part of the programming.

"You don't have to listen to them anymore, Bucky.."

Steve sounded more lucid than he had in weeks, even with his eyes still fogged from medication and pain. He knew Steve, he'd made the connection between him and the boy with the sparrow-thin bones and bloodied knuckles from his memories, but seventy years of forced obedience and programming and control were impossible to just shrug off. Steve must have sensed it, but then again even the broken fragments of his memories told him that he had always been able to read him like a book.

He didn't show an ounce of fear as he slowly raised his hand, hovering it over his metal wrist, never breaking eye contact. He reasoned he wanted him to make sure he saw what he was doing. He remained tense and stiff, ready to slash the blade the inch it'd take to kill the man, but he waited. Steve seemed to take it as permission, lightly laying his hand over his own metal one, trying to gently push it away from his throat. He resisted at first, artificial muscles clicking and flexing before he slowly relaxed, letting his arm be guided away and down.

"You're okay, Bucky," he started, keeping his voice low and even, not even blinking at the impossibly loud sound of the knife clattering to the floor as it slipped from the Asset's grip, "you're my friend, you don't have to make it on your own."

Thank you Buck, but I can make it on my own.

The thing is, you don't have to.

Something about those string of words sparked something, a bright image flashing in his mind. He remembered Steve, so much smaller with red-ringed eyes. He remembered his hand gripping his shoulder tightly; he realized dimly that he was doing much the same now, a twisted sort of parody of a gesture that no doubt had once been based in comfort. Steve lifted his free hand, the other still cradling the metal wrist that a moment ago had been poised to slit his throat, reaching slowly towards his face. The memory was so vivid he didn't even react until he felt his goggles being gently tugged away, dropping discarded into his lap.

The Asset tried to suck in a breath through the muzzle mask but his lungs hitched as his whole body began to shake, arms dropping into his lap, limp. He had no idea what was happening. The programming had faltered, leaving him unable to complete the mission; the conflict between his programming and the memories was just too much. Panic filled every bit of him, heart hammering against his ribs and stomach threatening to retch. He'd never felt like this in any of the memories he had and it terrified him. He couldn't get enough air and he felt entirely out of control of his own body, his breathing loud and ragged and desperate under the mask.

He felt Steve's hand on his left shoulder, thumb just barely tracing the ragged seam where metal met flesh, his eyes focused on his own as he spoke although he didn't hear a word he said. Normally he flinched or reacted violently to contact but he didn't this time, merely shrinking into himself in an attempt to hide from the storm that was his mind. It was oddly assuring, the feeling of his firm grip on his shoulder, although it didn't immediately register that he was touching his left arm. He couldn't touch him with his left arm, he couldn't, he couldn't. He was dimly aware of a loud noise outside the room, an electric sort of noise that sent the panic coiling in his belly shooting straight up his spine. He needed to get away. Electricity meant pain, meant the wipe that would steal Emily and Steve and his fragile memories away again.

His legs felt boneless when he tried to jump up but he didn't make it any farther than that, Steve's grip on his shoulder turning strong as steel, pulling him back down. The Asset dimly heard him yelling at him; he heard Bucky and he heard its okay but everything in between was lost in the blur that was the panic swirling in his mind. The electric noise was right outside, it was too close. Too close.

"S-Steve, I..."

The door was blown off its hinges with a bolt of blue, slamming into the wall, and all thoughts screeched to a halt and screamed attack.

Steve flinched violently when the door exploded to his right, shards of hot metal bouncing off his side. The air was full of the acrid stench of charred metal and sharp electricity, a scent he knew like the back of his hand. Stark. Thank God, Emily had gotten help and somehow found them. They just might get out of this mess after all. He had his visor flipped open and grinned when he saw him, motioning to the two of them broadly. He didn't have enough time to warn him about Bucky, to warn him about the sound the repulsors made, to warn him about anything.

"Tony, turn off your Repulsors!" he shouted but by the time the words left his lips Bucky had already sprung, producing a knife from somewhere on his person and lunging at Tony like a bird of prey, blade like a talon aiming straight for the suit's Arc Reactor. Tony didn't even have enough time to flip down his visor before Bucky barreled into him, sending them both to the floor. Steve tried to jump up to pry Bucky off but the drugs were still in his system, making his limbs feel a hundred pounds heavier and the room spin with any sudden movement. It felt like when his blood sugar used to dip before the serum.

The screech of metal against metal was nearly ear-splitting, the knife glancing off an armored gauntlet when Tony threw his arms up to deflect the strike. Bucky jammed the blade into one of the seams, Tony actually letting out a yelp before he jerked his arm back, the knife catching and snapping from the torque. The useless hilt was discarded, fingers curling into a fist and slamming into the Arc Reactor, cracking the protective covering. Steve's heart skipped and he screamed at Bucky to stop but he watched as he raised his fist again, aiming to break the Reactor which would trap Tony in the powerless suit.

A brilliant flash of blue filled the room and Bucky was thrown off, the sleeve of his uniform disintegrating and exposing the metal underneath. The Repulsor blast had been drastically dialed back, only enough power behind it to knock him away, but it still nearly blew him into the far wall. He landed on his feet like some sort of cat and skidded back, tattered sleeve smoking and the plating of his arm mired with superficial electricity burns. His breathing was far too fast and he was still shaking, hardly able to stand on his own two feet.

"Bucky, calm down!" Steve pulled himself free of the IV drips, using the wall to steady himself as he moved closer to Tony; he was hedging his bets on the fact that Bucky hopefully wouldn't attack with him so close to his target. "Tony is a friend, he's not going to hurt you!" he could only watch helplessly as Bucky tensed himself up again, coiling in on himself like a snake about to strike. "Bucky, don't! I promise he's not going to hurt you!" he placed himself between the two, holding his hands up submissively. Tony quickly did the same, powering down his Repulsors completely.

Bucky remained crouched and ready to lunge, another much larger blade in his right hand. His eyes darted between Steve and behind him to Tony as if he was trying to judge his distance; it made Steve's stomach drop. He edged forward slowly, closing the distance hesitantly even though he heard Tony's concerned hiss of Steve be careful behind him.

"Buck, its okay, I promise. Its fine, Tony's not going to hurt you or me." he assured, reaching out and slowly taking hold of his hand with the knife. Bucky didn't let go, keeping his eyes locked on Tony over Steve's shoulder as if daring him to try and take another step closer even though he was now shaking so badly he could barely keep his stance. His eyes were still unfocused and wild, nothing like they were the last few times he'd visited him in his cell.

"Cap, I think he's having a panic attack" Tony said suddenly, visor flipping up, "try and get him calmed down so we can get you both out of here. Emily is coming down the hallway, I'm going to make sure our path out is clear but we need to leave before more HYDRA agents show up." Steve nodded back at him before turning his attention back to Bucky, hand still on the hilt of the knife to try and keep him from lunging around him at Tony.

"Buck, Bucky, I need you to look at me" Steve spoke sternly, Bucky's gaze snapping back to him in an instant, "please try and calm down. You're breathing too hard, just, try and focus on slowing it down." He'd talked Tony through his panic attacks in the last few months when something triggered them but Tony had never had a penchant to try and kill him during them.

The knife came loose from his grip a moment later, Steve quickly tossing it out of reach onto the abandoned cot. Bucky was shuddering so much he looked like he was about to shake apart, breath heaving in and out. He wanted to get the mask off of him but he didn't think it was a good idea with him still so flighty. He could easily end up hurting him or himself.

"James, теперь ты в безопасности."

He felt Bucky jolt to look over at the remains of the door where Emily was now standing silently, the shield strapped to one arm. Steve would have spun around himself but he didn't dare make any sudden moves with Bucky in his state, knowing he was teetering on the edge of attacking him or attacking anyone who so much as came within three feet of him with a weapon.

"E-Emily." Bucky's voice was painfully weak, hardly audible over his breathing. Steve heard her walk over, she deliberately making enough noise so not to startle him, reaching out to lay her hand on his arm gently. It seemed to ease his shaking a bit, having two grounding points, but they didn't have the time to get him completely calmed down. They still had to get out of this nightmarish place and get to safety.

"You're going to be fine." She reassured him soothingly, her voice softer than he'd ever heard it before, "we're going to take you and Steve somewhere safe." Bucky seemed to calm a bit at her words, tentatively nodding in agreement as his tremors subsided. He still looked pale and nervous but he didn't seem to be on the verge of passing out anymore. "Steve, Stark has the hallway clear but we need to go now. More agents are inbound and we don't have the head of the base pinned down. Do you think he's good for extraction?" Steve turned to look at the Soldier at her words, and he mirrored the action.

"Do you think you can make it out of the building, Buck? We need to go." Steve asked and was relieved when he saw the slight nod he got in response.

"Good. Clint and Bruce are outside in a Quinjet. Let's get you both home." Emily whispered with a little smile in the corner of her lips.

FOUR YEARS LATER

 “Mommy!? Mommy, mommy, mommy!!!” a squeaky voice has spreaded its echo around a cottage.

Little girl ran through upper floor, heading towards stairs leading at the ground floor. She ran into the living room, looking around, but there was no one, so she ran further. Girl spotted the black chow-chow, who was laying at the dog bedding near the main door.

“Hey! Xena! Have you seen Ma?” girl, laughing loudly, went to the dog and pet dog's head playfully. The animal only barked lazly, so girl shook her head and decided to ran to the garden.

But at the door a pair of strong hands had caught her and she had been picked up. She was laughing and squeaking. “Uncle! Put me down, put me down!!!” she giggled, looking up into pair of familiar, huge blue eyes. Steve smirked and made an offended face. “Nah, I don't think so, I like to have you close, besides, now I hope I'll have better deal with your mother if it comes to a dessert!” Captain tickled little belly of the girl, causing a bunch of giggles and squeaks. “Uncle! Unfair!” little girl nuzzled to his neck. “Well, I'll help ya with a dessert if you'll help me to look for my Ma! I can't find her.” Steve laughed briefly and gave a slight nod, then stepped outside t the garden, holding girl in his arms.

Emily was sitting at the wide swing with Bucky, they were catching sunrays of the late summer, cuddling and talking. When little girl noticed her parents, she squeaked once again, tugging Steve's sleve. “Mommy! Daddy!” she yelled loudly and as soon as her little feet touched the ground, she ran towards them, jumping at Bucky's lap. “Mommy! I was looking for you everywhere!!! I draw something for you!!” little girl held a dawing in her hand and she passed it over to Emily. Redhead woman took a piece of the paper in her hand and whistled shortly. “James, look, I bet our girl's gonna be an artist in the future!” she giggled. Bucky took the drawing in his metal palm and took a look on that, letting Steve to watch it also. “I bet she'll” Bucky took girl into his arms and hugged her tight, smiling proudly. “My beautiful Marika.” “I'm sorry to interrupt, but what's with that dessert you had promissed me?” Steve poked Emily's shoulder and woman rolled her eyes. “Captain is hungry as always. I told James before, they should've been calling you Captain Hunger instead of America” Emily summed up, smiling sweetly.

All four talked for a while, then headed back to the house. They were living in peace, filling their lives with love and hope. Hope for better world.

Whatever they had missed, they possessed together the precious, the incommunicable past.

                                                      The End