For Something Greater .Chapter One.
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: (Y/n) is an active duty Navy SEAL Commander, the first and only woman to ever be a SEAL. When two American spies are captured during a reconnaissance mission at a HYDRA base in Transia, (Y/n) and her team are forced to team up with The Winter Soldier to rescue the captives. Being wary of the avenger, she agrees to do one mission with Barnes, and one mission only. But after an unexpected turn of events, her team and Barnes must work together to finish what they started, while (Y/n) and Bucky try to sort out their complicated feelings. (Set six months after Endgame.)
Words: 2000+
Warning/s for this chapter: mild Endgame spoilers, cursing, mentions of war violence
Warning/s for the series: Endgame spoilers, cursing, war violence, eventual smut
Note: Transia is a fictional European country appearing located between Romania and Serbia. (Marvel comics)
Recommended: listen to Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes while reading this chapter
(I reuploaded this because last time it didn’t show up in the tags)
Nobody thought you would make it.
Not even your parents.
When you were 18, you heard that that women were now allowed to serve combat roles in the military, and you were ecstatic. You joined the navy and didn’t tell your parents until a week before your plane took off to go to boot camp in Chicago.
The boot camp was separated, male and female. You made friends with some of the aspiring recruits, but they all laughed at you when you said you wanted to be a Navy SEAL. You were a girl, they thought, and girls aren’t supposed to become SEALs.
You ignored them.
You joined the boys in the crash course on the physical standards required to even attempt to become a SEAL, and to prepare you for BUD/S, Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training.
You heard your fair share of judgement, of people talking behind your back.
“That girl? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She won’t make it.”
“Watch her cry home to her mama.”
“I bet she won’t last through Hell Week.” “I bet she won’t even make the selection.”
This fueled your motivation, turned it into anger and aggression.
And you passed the first selection. You not only met, but excelled the standards of swimming, push ups, pull ups, sit ups, and running.
You surpassed nearly everyone in training, despite being a girl.
Then came Hell Week.
During Hell Week, candidates participate in five and a half days of continuous training. Each candidate sleeps at most four hours during the entire week, runs more than 200 miles, and does physical training for more than 20 hours per day. It was tough on you. Hell, it was tough on everyone. Almost half of the candidates failed or quit during Hell Week. The boys who talk behind your back mostly quit during Hell Week. But not you. You stayed strong, a goal in your mind. You were going to make it. You were sure of it.
Throughout Hell Week, your instructors remind you that you could quit anytime, almost taunting. But they were tougher on you, because you were a girl.
“Why do you put yourself through all this, girl? Just be a nurse or something! You know you want to.” an instructor snickered.
You mustered up your strength and shouted for all the candidates to hear, “No, Sir, I’m staying right here!” Your voice echoed through the air like a breeze.
During Hell week, there was an exercise to test the breaking point of each candidate.
Surf Torture is laying in 6 inches of water where the white wash rolled in from the surf. That’s it. You lay there with all the other candidates in cold water for an unknown amount of time, as waves washed over your face. After a few hours, it was starting to drive some crazy.
“We aren’t getting out until 3 people quit, we’ve got nowhere to be, we can do this all night long… all you need to do is quit. It’s easy!” your instructor yelled.
All you need to do is quit…
You were not going to do that.
After 2 hours, a candidate quit. Another one after 6 hours, and the last one after 9 hours.
But you made it.
You made it through the first phase, the second, and the third, and eventually became a full-fledged Navy SEAL, the first woman to ever graduate. You checked in to SEAL team six, white squadron, and got deployed for your first assault ops in Syria.
After that operation, you went on another, then another, then another, until you worked yourself up to where you are now.
Now, you were a commander, leading the white squadron.
You made history, and you’ll continue making them.
-
Today, you got a briefing call.
Another day at work, right?
You gathered your team, six men you trusted with your life, as SOCOM officers briefed you on your new mission.
You sat at the end of the table, three of your men on your right, three on your left. On your right were Jones, McCoy, and Miller, on your left were Woods, Harris, and Lawson, all with a familiar look on their faces that said, Here we go again. Let’s get this over with.
These were your brothers, your family.
“As you know, two CIA agents have gone missing earlier this week during an undercover mission in Transia to locate possible terrorist activities near the border. We lost them, and hadn’t heard a word from them, until now.” the SOCOM officer said, “Black Squadron have identified suspicious Hydra activity around the area, and they have located a warehouse in the Transian mountain range, which we believe may be where the spies are being held.”
“Hydra?” Miller asked, “I thought they didn’t exist anymore.”
“So did we,” the officer said, “But then we got intel that Hydra is slowly rebuilding itself.”
“Are we sure it’s Hydra?” You asked.
“Yes,” the officer confirmed.
“Are we sure the spies are there?”
“Not a hundred percent, no,” the officer explained, “They could’ve risked tipping off Hydra if they got too close.”
You sighed, and smiled at your team. You gave them a look that said, Well, what’s new?
“Command agrees it’s enough info to send a team into the area. There’s a safe house seven klicks from the target, and our allies have arranged ground transportation to the ORP,” the officer said.
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Allies?” you asked.
The officer gave you a faint smile, “Since it’s Hydra, we decided to form an alliance with the Avengers. Assisting you on this mission is The Winter Soldier.”
Whispers rose among your team.
“James Barnes?”
“War hero, right?”
“Wasn’t he the one who killed JFK?” “Yeah, and Howard Stark, too.”
“Enough,” you silenced your team, and they complied.
You stood up, “With all due respect, sir, my squadron can handle this alone.”
“This is Hydra we’re talking about,” he said, “You need all the help you can get.”
“He’s an Avenger,” you sneered, “I’m not working with one of them.”
“He served in the army,” the officer said, “You’ve worked with the army before.”
You raised your eyebrows, “That was 1945,” you said, “He’s an Avenger now. He won’t follow my orders.”
“Who said he’d be following your orders?” he said, “He will be leading with you. Side by side.”
“No,” you said sternly.
“This is non-negotiable,” The officer stared down at you.
“Fine,” you said, “One operation only.”
The officer gave you a half-hearted smile and a small nod, then looked to your team, “Wheels up. Four hours.”
-
Four hours wasn’t enough. It has never been enough for anybody, but that was okay, because you’ve gotten use to never having enough time.
You packed you bag in the locker room of the white squadron, your team bickering playfully and laughing in the background. Diego Miller, Logan McCoy, and Ian Lawson were currently playing Go Fish around the table. Nolan Woods and Collin Harris were having a small but intense chat about the Winter Soldier. Lastly, there was a new kid who just checked in your squadron two months ago, Oliver Jones, frantically checking for everything in his pack. He’s 19, was an NYU law student, and has only ever gone on one operation, and that was only a recon op without expected confrontation.
Despite graduating at the top of his class, this was still his first hostage rescue op, with high possibility of violent confrontation, and it was a big deal.
You trained him and hand picked him for the white squadron. You knew he was exceptional, but the first offense mission was still the first offense mission.
You remembered your first SEAL operation. It was a nerve-wrecking experience, an assault mission that nearly got your teammate killed.
What was even more terrifying, was that it was the first time you ever killed. You killed someone, and you hadn’t realized that he was just-
“Commander?” Jones asked, snapping you out of your dark thoughts. His voice didn’t indicate his nervousness but his eyes gleamed of a certain worry that could only be fear that he tried to surpress. It was a familiar gleam, one that you’ve experienced yourself. But he’ll get over it, like you do. He’ll have to. He doesn’t have a choice.
“Yeah, Jones?” You answered, packing the last of your thing in your bag, closing your locker. You turned towards him.
“When was your first kill?” He asked, his voice not wavering. He was good at hiding his feelings, and that was good.
You raised an eyebrow, “Too many years ago,” you replied, “why?”
“Did you ever know who it was?” He asked again.
“No,” you said. It wasn’t exactly a lie. You didn’t know his name, where he came from. But you saw his face after he was dead and… the reality had overwhelmed you. You did what you had to do.
“How do you get over it?” He asked, his voice still not faltering.
“Over what?” You asked him, “The guilt? Or the realization that you have just taken a life?”
He nodded, “Both.”
“You don’t. You live with it for the rest of your life,” you said faintly, “Whether or not the burden destroys you, is up to you.”
“I’m ready,” he said sternly, and you gave him a small chuckle as you squeezed his shoulder in reassurance, “No one is ever ready.”
You walked past him and to the other boys. “Eyes on me!” You called, and your team stopped doing whatever they were doing and listened to you.
“We’re about to go to a Hydra base with the Winter Soldier. We’re here to rescue the spies, but we’re bound to find some weird shit. Weapons, experimental particles, biological weapons, whatever. Take some with you back to base for intel if you find any,” you said, “But this is still a US military mission. Anything we find there will be brought back to SEAL base, not to the Avengers. Watch out for Barnes, and what he brings back.”
“What do you have against the Avengers, Commander?” Harris asked, “They saved the world. They brought us back.”
Harris were one of those who disappeared. He was the only one who disappeared in your team.
Harris, like everyone else, was brought back six months ago. If he had any trauma tied to the experience, he didn’t show it.
“I have nothing against them,” you mentioned sincerely, “I’m glad they brought you back. I really am. But this is still a government operation, and the Avengers have a bad history with the government.”
-
You climbed up the hatch of the cargo aircraft with the rest of your team.
You were already in your uniforms.
Your uniform color depends on where you’re going.
Since you’re going to the snowy mountains of Transia, the color today is white, like the name of your squadron.
The white squadron, your team, is a little different from other teams. While other squadrons used standard-issue uniforms, you wore kevlar suits, even almost resembling Captain America’s stealth suit. While the other squadrons wore helmets, you wore no such protective head gear. You didn’t need it. Your goggles were already fitted with night vision and various other settings, and your mask made it possible for you to breathe under water without an oxygen tank. While other SEALS had regular standard-issue fins that they had to take off after swimming, you had retractable fins that were stored within the fabric of your suit. The only thing that was normal was your choice of firearms, your utility belt that was filled with ammunitions and various other explosives, including grenades and smoke bombs, and lastly a golden trident pin that was the only thing that contrasted with the color of your uniform. The pin, however, was hidden from view. It rested under the uniform, against the thin shirt between your skin and the kevlar suit. Invisible, but always there. Undetected, but ever present. It was the universal symbol for all SEALs.
But your team weren’t like the other SEALs.
Your team was special, because to the world, the white squadron didn’t exist.
You were a secret SEAL team, with special set of skills that surpassed all others. You could take down a super soldier, not because you were stronger, but because you were better. Strategy over brute force, quality over quantity.
The very few people who have encountered your squadron and survived called your team ‘The White Death.’
A very fitting name, indeed.
You got in the plane, the boys trailing not far behind you.
And there he was, The Winter Soldier, sitting on one of the benches, double-checking his rifle.
His hair was tied back into a bun, and he stood up when he saw the group coming.
“Which one of you is Commander (L/n)?” He asked. The first person he locked eyes with was you, for a few seconds, but his gaze quickly averted to the boys, scanning them. He was looking for the Commander, and he didn’t think it was you.
Typical.
You stepped out and looked up at him in the eye. “You’re looking at her, Sergeant Barnes.”
Bucky flinched a little, indicating his surprised look, but covering it up as soon as he realized he was showing physical signs of his shock. He raised his eyebrows and broke his gaze on you, “We’ve got work to do.”
Well, this was gonna be fun.
-
Terms:
Op: operation (mission)
SOCOM: Special Operations Command (Organization that gives orders to the US military)
Klicks: kilometers
ORP: Objective Rally Point
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Note: I did the Google research about SEALs, Navy, and US military in general, but I do realize that the data might not be 100% accurate, so if I got something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it!
