#barnesxreader

  I swear he’s hardly a soldier. I need to baby him half the time. Combing his hair, washing his arm, feeding him. So, I sit on the bed next to him and scoop up a spoonful of the borscht. He turns back towards me and enthusiastically allows me to spoon feed him through dinner. “The things I do for you…” I mumble and steal a bite of the cake. I was right. Bird’s milk. He seems strangely thoughtful as he eats.   It’s finally time to relax. I return the tray and dishes to the kitchen and when I come back, he’s reading a Korean children’s book aloud. I notice it’s in Hangul.    “That’s good, moya Soldat,” I know reading a new alphabet is difficult. He lays on his stomach on the bed and I help him through understanding the words.   I set about massaging his shoulders and back again. I can finally tell when his knots are gone because the strain leaves his voice and he seems sleepy. I put the book back on the shelf and glance at the clock. 23:07. He stretches out his muscles while I take clothes to the laundry and fix our beds. We stand in the small bathroom down the hall, brushing our teeth. I sit on the counter and Soldat makes faces with a mouthful of toothpaste for my amusement.   On our way back from brushing our teeth, I receive our packed bags for tomorrow morning. When we come back and put them down, he picks up his mask and studies it for a moment. He seems sad and distant. I know he hates the mask. It’s like a muzzle. I hate it possibly more than he does because I understand the implications behind the mask whereas he just sees it as a piece of restricting uniform. I place my hand on his back and rub gentle circles with my thumb. He drops it back into the bag and crawls into bed. It’s about to hit 00:00 so I kneel next to him, remind him to relax, and stroke his hair until he closes his eyes.   I leave and begin prep for the next morning. This, as usual, involves handing a receipt to a treasury official and receiving an envelope of money, which is US dollars this time, placing orders for rations for the designated travel time (4 days), receiving briefings for the mission and checking over our bags.   I finally get back to the room at about 2 in the morning, luckily we won’t be woken until 10 am. I can hear Soldat muttering in his sleep and immediately know he’s having a nightmare. I change into a nightgown and sit down next to him, stroking his hair until he seems to calm down.

 I wake up with a jolt as the alarm goes off. I reach over and turn it off before realising I’m in his bed. Still on top of the covers. Not unusual. I seem to always end up falling asleep after comforting him from a nightmare. He sits up and stretches. I hear knocking and get up to find that breakfast has arrived. I thank the kitchen girl and take the cart.   I dress in the basic white travel sweats for the day before taking my tray and settling on the floor. Soldat joins me in a matching outfit, but his is grey. His meal is very protein-heavy, butterbrot with ham, eggs, tvorog (like cottage cheese), kasha (a grain porridge), orange juice and coffee. Calorie dense and carb and protein based. Mine isn’t too different but I ended up with kasha, butterbrot with butter, one egg and coffee. He seems happy and digs in while talking animatedly about seeing things in Washington while I read through the logistics of the mission, where we’re based, who’s accompanying us, who the target is, when and where the mission is supposed to be carried out. I like traveling a lot and I know he enjoys it too.   I know we have to be at the hangar at 12:35 and wheels up at 12:45. So with nothing to do but relax, we talk for a while, joking and pretending that we’re not going on this trip to murder someone.   When I decide it’s time to go, we grab our bags and head up past the training center and arrive at the hangar early. We meet with the officials and are given orders to wait in the jet. It’s a big cargo-style jet with a large open space in the center and benches around the perimeter.   Throwing our bags down, he picks a spot towards the back and I join him. He lays down with his head in my lap and I pretend to be inspecting his face, putting more disinfectant on his already healed wounds from yesterday and checking his pupil dilation. Eventually he closes his eyes and tries to sleep. We have 10 and a half hours to wait until we arrive in DC.   The other guards file in, including Soldat’s handler, a huge Serbian guy who goes by Petrovic. They look confused at the sight of the Winter Soldier sleeping on his nurse’s lap but Petrovic and the two officials ignore it. They’re used to it by now.   The flight goes slowly with not much to do. There’s quiet chatter, soldiers sleeping on benches and the ground, a few are reading. I wake my soldier up at around 2:50 to eat something since food’s being handed out. We sit on the floor and eat. Beef with potatoes, hot shchi (a cabbage soup), black bread and coffee. Chocolate bars are offered around by one of the younger guards however that offer never gets to Soldat. I take one and thank him before breaking it in half to give to Soldat.   There’s some quiet socialising among the guards since the officials and pilots seem chatty and happy up front. Some of the men try to include me in the conversation but I’m fairly disinterested and direct the conversation to someone else before I have to talk for very long. After the food’s been finished it seems as though we go back to silence. I offer a game of 101 to Soldat with a pack of cards and we play quietly for an hour or so. More snacks and cups of kvass are once again passed around and after we finish, Soldat and I fall back asleep for a few hours.   Petrovic wakes us up when dinner is being served, around 7pm. The TV is turned on for the Washington DC news and everyone gathers on the floor again to eat. For dinner we’re given pork stewed in tomato sauce, a salad of pickled cabbage, cucumbers and carrots, more black bread, buckwheat porridge and a double shot of vodka is offered to everyone. I take mine but quickly pass it to Soldat since vodka’s strange attractiveness doesn’t make sense to me. For dessert we’re all given strange little tea cakes, apparently British, and kissel, a fruity jelly-like dessert.   Most of the guards get some sleep but a few figure since we’ll be landing in a few hours they may as well stay up. Soldat goes right back to sleep, this time leaning back on my chest with his head on my shoulder, but I keep a wary eye on a few of the younger guards who may not fully hold their alcohol too well. Kvass is offered around again at about 10 and I take the cup and read a book I bought on our last mission in Ukraine.

We finally land somewhere around 11:30 and I wake Soldat up. We pick up our bags and are directed to a truck with Petrovic.   Once we arrive at the base, Petrovic gets our keys and tells us to stay in the room. He disappears into the room next to us and I have to literally undress Soldat to get him into the shower. We both scrub down before climbing into the creaky double bed and knocking out completely.  When Petrovic comes in the next morning to brief us on the timeframe he admits that we could be here for up to two weeks. Soldat starts getting ready to leave. Since I’ll be on standby the first day, I end up alone in the base, writing up a medical report in case something happens.   The next night I am assigned my suit for a mission. I’m nothing but aid at this point but it’s best to be prepared if it comes to a fight. Soldat is given a sniping gun and our main goal is to just shoot and get out.  We end up on the roof across from an apartment building, aiming through a window. I sit impatiently. Whoever lives there crawls in through the window and we wait for the light to be turned on. A few minutes and the target stands up. Soldat gets a few good shots before he’s down. We watch as he gets dragged out of sight.    “Begat!” Run. We both spring up and sprint across the roof. We jump over a few alleyways before I see the end of our block, where a nondescript car is waiting for us. We land on an adjacent one before the man in pursuit of us smashes through a window and onto the same roof as us. I hear his shield coming towards us but Soldat turns and catches it easily. He throws it back at the man and we jump off the building, sprinting back to the car parked down the street. We drive off back to the base.   The moment we arrive and jump out of the car, Soldat starts pacing with nervous energy. I walk over to him. I can hear him getting worked up.    “I wouldn’t do that, Ms Kang,” His handler puts his hand out but I ignore it. I hear guns being cocked but I know they’re trained on Soldat, not me. I step in front of him and he stops abruptly.    “Stop it,” I place my hand on his chest and stare straight into his eyes, challenging him, “You’re acting like a child,” He stares back at me. As frustrated as he may be, he knows that I’ll knock him out if he doesn’t stop freaking out. He takes a big, huffy breath and kneels so that I can wipe the charcoal from around his eyes. The other soldiers relax their weapons and I can hear as they slowly resume their positions.    “Mianhae,” It doesn’t matter that he says it in Korean, it’s so quiet no one else could’ve possibly heard it.     “It’s ok. I know you’re stressed. You’re fine,” I tell him, patting his cheek as I finish up.

   “Steve,”    “Which Bucky am I talking to?” He’s clearly uneasy.    “Your mom’s name was Sarah,” He pauses before chuckling, “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes,”    “Can’t read that in a museum,” Steve smirks a bit.    “Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?”    “I dropped him,” The two men look to me, “Used the fail-safe. It’s not even written down in his files. Say a word, he drops unconscious and switches out of it,” They nod but still seem unsure.    “What did I do?” Bucky manages to get out.    “Enough,”    “Oh god. I knew this would happen,” His voice breaks a little and so does my heart, “Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do is say the goddamn words,”    “Who was he?”    “I don’t know,”    “The bombing, the setup… The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than ‘I don’t know’”    “Hey! Ok. That’s enough. Give him a fucking break!” I stand up.    “N/N, don’t,”    “He’s been through hell and back. He wakes up and you’re already interrogating him. Maybe back off a little!” My voice has been rising in volume and I find myself standing directly in front of Steve, “I’m not scared of you. And unlike my soldier, I don’t have any issues with hurting you to deal with you!”    “Y/N, stop,” I whirl around, “He’s just trying to help us,” I huff, debating whether it was worth punching his face but decide against it and march back to Bucky’s side and crouch beside him, “He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where,”    “Well, fuck,” I mutter quietly. Only one reason anyone would want to go there.    “Why would he need to know that?”    “Because I’m not the only Winter Soldier,”

  Watching Soldat train was certainly not my favorite activity. It was stressful and I disliked the other supersoldiers. One in particular was very aggressive.   Today was no exception. The rest of the nurses and I stood by on benches next to our soldiers. I stood with Konstantinov, Soldat’s current handler. Watching a pair of them compete in hand-to-hand, I bounced slightly on my toes. Soldat gave me a look but I ignored him.   I was getting nervous as Soldat started to spar with the angry one. I held my breath as they fought. The other one managed to get a grip on his arm and then kicked him across the room. He landed next to me after hitting the wall.    “You’ll have to do better,” Konstantinov scoffed, “Good work,” He directed towards the other one.   I bent down and pressed my palm to his cheek before he stood up. While the other one’s nurse took his heart rate, he slammed the poor guy onto the ground after breaking his arm.   One of the guards hit him with a stick but it hardly did anything. Konstantinov cocked his gun, “Soldat, get me out of here,” I followed them out of the room while the other soldiers turned on the guards and the nurses. We ended up in a safe part of the facility while the others were sedated.

   “Who were they?”    “Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history,”     “And that was before the serum,” I add, shaking my head.    “They all turn out like you?” Sam seemed edgy now,    “Worse,”     “The doctor,” Steve asked, “Could he control them?”    “Enough,”    “Said he wanted to see an empire fall,”     “With these guys he could do it,” I stand up, “They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilise. They can take a whole country down in one night, you’d never see them coming. We were taught the same things too, the enhanced,”    “This would have been a lot easier a week ago,” Sam says to Steve.   They release his arm from the vice, still talking.    “If we call Tony-”    “No, he won’t believe us,”    “Even if he did, who knows if the Accords will let him help?” I turn my focus back to Bucky, who’s trying to calm down again. I run my fingers through his hair and remind him to breathe.   We end up in a really old car, squished in. We were flown to Germany for whatever reason. I’ve relaxed my head against Bucky’s shoulder and when we stop I see that blue-haired girl, Selene, step out of a different car to meet Steve.   After a few minutes of chatting and what-not, they kiss and I smile a bit. Steve seems nice, I can understand why she’s into him. Yeah, he’s pretty but he’s not my Soldat.   He tosses his shield and something else in the back before we drive to the airport.

  We park and get out. I’m on high alert, definitely not liking the parking lot. We meet a man and a young woman climbing out of a white van. They greet Steve while Buck and I lean on the car.   I run my hands over his face softly, knowing a fight is coming. He leans his head into it and my heart skips a beat. I touch his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his lips. I sigh a little before dropping my hands to my side.   I focus on another guy who’s stepped out. He seems… Weird. I shrug it off and the girl waves at me. I wave back but jump a little when Bucky says loudly,    “We should get moving,”     “We’ve got a chopper lined up,” The first guy tells us. Over the intercom, a voice tells passengers to evacuate in German.    “They’re evacuating the airport,” I say thoughtfully. That’s not good.    “Stark,” Sam sighs.    “Suit up,” Steve instructs everyone. Bucky and I don’t exactly have much so he pulls on the leather jacket from our bag that Selene retrieved and I yank on the harness and my fireproof long sleeve and make do with my baggy jeans. I grip his hands while he mentally prepares himself to fight. 

 Steve runs out alone to the helicopter but is quickly intercepted by Iron Man. Cool. This will go down well. I keep count as more arrive. Another ‘Iron Man’ who arrived with Stark. The same one who stopped us in Romania. The man in the cat suit who I now know as King T’Challa. Natasha and another girl with pink hair. Some strange younger boy in a suit. He takes Steve’s shield with some sticky web stuff. I’m not a fan of that.   I move to sit with Wilson and Bucky while they scout for their Quinjet. Sam finds it quickly enough and lets Rogers know.   Immediately Lang and Barton initiate combat and the three of us start sprinting towards the jet. The kid hits the window as we’re running.    “What the hell is that?” I laugh at Bucky’s face, a mixture of confusion and horror.     “Everyone’s got a gimmick now,” Sam rolls his eyes and runs faster. I know he’s struggling to keep up with our pace. I find it difficult already to slow down enough for Bucky, let alone a normal person.   The kid busts through the window and kicks Sam. Hard. I skid to a stop and Bucky turns around to punch him but the spider-kid catches it.    “You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!” Ok, that’s disturbing. How did he not go flying? I can see Bucky trying to work that out as well before Sam grabs the kid and continues to fly through the airport.   I’m still standing there when Bucky practically throws me over his shoulder and starts running again.     “Put me down, suka!” I hit his back but he still keeps a grip on me. He does drop me a few seconds later though and flings a huge chunk of… something at the kid. He pulls me behind a pillar. He looks back to check if he hit.    “Hey buddy, I think you lost this!” The hunk of metal comes flying back at us and Bucky throws himself on top of me. I shove him off, ready to set the kid on fire when Sam starts fighting him again.   Bucky grabs my harness and starts dragging me. I see Wilson hit the floor and then get stuck to a railing. Bucky seems to forget he’s got me in tow when he flings himself in front of Sam to protect him from the kid kicking him. We all hit the ground and I’m momentarily unaware of what happens. I see Bucky’s metal arm trapped to the ground with more of that nasty web stuff but I’m too dizzy for it to make much sense.     “You couldn’t have done that earlier?”    “I hate you,” Wilson groans. I sit up but I’m overcome by a wave of nausea. Fuck. I’m definitely concussed. I know I can push through the effects of it but for the moment I just sit there, trying to hang on to whatever remains in my stomach.    “Sunny? Sunshine? Y/N!” I jolt and realise Bucky’s been yelling at me. I wave my hand before jumping up and throwing up somewhere behind a wall.    “I’m good. Let’s get out of here,” I groan. Now that that’s done, I’ll be fine. Bucky’s not having any of it though. He holds his hand out and I begrudgingly allow him to hoist me onto his back, “You’re slow enough without me,” I grumble.    “I lift 400 pounds. You’re nothing,” We start running again and make it outside, meeting Steve and the others. We stop abruptly when some floating figure cuts a line in front of us. Great! Another issue.     “Captain Rogers. I know you believe what you’re doing is right but for the collective good, you must surrender now,” I slide off of Bucky’s back.    “What do we do, Cap?” Wilson mutters.    “We fight,” We all move forward to meet them, jogging, then breaking into a run.   I lock eyes with the pink-haired girl. I meet her and get a good grip on her, trying to wrap my arms around her neck. I’m aware of Bucky on my right, locked in battle with T’Challa. She’s really good at hand-to-hand combat though, and definitely stronger than me. My agility makes me a good match though, and we lose and gain position often. Her fight pattern is uncomfortably familiar and I can’t help but wonder why I recognize it. She jerks away quickly when I grab her hands, which have gripped my harness. I feel their heat and I know I can’t control it for much longer. I use that to backsault out of it and run towards Bucky.   He gets thrown into the side of a box and is clearly winded. T’Challa moves to strike him and I put all my energy into sprinting into him. I slam into his whole body and send him flying. Wanda, the girl who waved at me in the car park, catches him with her weird magic stuff and throws him through a plane tunnel. I salute her before yanking Bucky to his feet.   He’s a little bit out of it so I use all my strength to pull him along, as fast as I can go. Steve meets us and we stop for a moment.    “We gotta go. That guy’s probably in Siberia by now,” He’s panting. Hard.    “We gotta draw out the flyers,” Steve responds.    “I’ll take Vision, you get to the jet,”    “No, you get to the jet. The three of you,” Sam calls in over the comms. Clint agrees.    “Alright, Sam, what’s the play?”     “We need a diversion. Something big,” I consider sending myself to a plane or one of the buildings to blow it up.    “Don’t,” Buck grips my wrist so hard I think for a moment he might break it,   “You’re not playing kamikaze again,” I nod, but still consider it.    “I got something kinda big, but I can’t hold it very long,” Lang says over the comms, “On my signal, run like hell. And if I tear myself in half, don’t come back for me,”    “He’s gonna tear himself in half?” Bucky shakes his head. We all wait for a moment.   Lang transforms until he’s huge. Like. Bigger than the planes, “You go ahead. We can catch up,” Buck breathes in my ear. I almost shake my head but the look he gives me scares me a little. And that’s saying something. I nod but quickly press my lips to his.     “Run fast,” I whisper.    “I guess that’s the signal,” Rogers is still staring at Scott.   I take off running, knowing no one will catch me. I don’t look back, no matter how much I want to. I hear burning behind me and realise I’m running on flaming feet. That might be cool and all, if it was because of how fast I was running. But the truth is simply that I’m upset and worried about my Soldat.   I reach the jet and skid to a stop. I try to put out the flames but I’m getting myself more and more worked up the more I try to extinguish them.     “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I stamp my feet. My hands are also burning.   I hear a crashing and see a building coming down over the entrance to the hangar. I rush to reach Steve and Bucky, who are just about to reach me when it stops. Wanda is holding it, barely. Something happens and she has to let it go but Steve and Bucky make it in. I fling myself at my soldier and his arms wrap tightly around me, picking me up and carrying me into the jet. My feet and hands must’ve gone out.   Steve starts it up and we fly out of the hangar. Bucky collapses to the ground, still holding me so hard I can hardly breathe. I don’t care though and knot my fingers into his hair.      “Breathe, doll. You need to breathe,” He whispers into my ear as I fight down sobs. I’m not sure why I’m so upset now. Of all the times to be upset. I must look insane, my eyes are wide, staring straight into his. It’s the sight of those striking blue eyes that make my heart flutter.   His hand reaches for my face and I allow him to brush back my hair and stroke my cheek. I calm down enough to feel us speed up. We must have Stark and the other guy on our tail. Bucky settles himself in a seat and straps himself in. I sit on his lap and try to calm the anxiety in my chest.   We fly for an hour before I start to relax. I find a first aid kit and deal with Bucky’s cuts. I make a fuss over the tiniest things and he allows me. Normally he’d brush me off and try to make me sit down but he must think it’s better to allow himself to be fussed over again. I finally finish and my hands are still shaking.   Why I’m on edge, I’m not sure.

Bucky