#winter soldier!reader

You’ve been on the run and in hiding with Bucky in Bucharest, Romania for two years. You and Bucky are at the market getting a few groceries when you two sensed that something was off. You two weren’t sure what it was, but it could also just be a feeling. As you and Bucky were about to leave the market, a vendor employee made eye contact with you for a few seconds before running away from the vendor stand. You and Bucky walked across the street to the vendor stand and looked at the newspaper that’s on the counter. Yours and Bucky’s hearts sank when you two saw the front page of the newspaper. It was you. You were being framed for something. You don’t know how you could possibly be framed for something when you were with Bucky this whole time. You looked up at Bucky with the look of fear in your eyes.

“Everything is going to be ok, doll.” Bucky softly assures.

Bucky protectively wraps his arm around you and you two made yours and his way home. Your brother was in yours and Bucky’s apartment when you two got home. Steve turns around when he felt a presence a few feet away from him. He felt relieved to see that you and Bucky are alive.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks you.

“You’re Steve. I read about you in the museum.” You say.

“Y/N, I’m your brother, remember? You’re a year younger than me.” He says softly.

Due to how fuzzy your mind is, it took you a moment to remember that Steve is your brother.

“Stevie.” You said.

That made Steve smile. He never thought he’d hear you call him that nickname again.

“You’re here to turn me in for something I didn’t do, aren’t you?” You say, your voice shaky.

“I’m here to protect you. I know you’re innocent. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Steve says.

You let out a shaky breath. Bucky’s hand gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

“You guys know how this is going to end, right?” You say.

“It’s going to end with us protecting you.” Bucky says.

“No, it’s not. It’s going to end with me behind bars for something I didn’t do.” You say.

“No, it’s not. We’re not going to let that happen.” Steve says.

All three of you were put on high alert when a grenade was thrown through the window. Steve put his shield over it to protect the three of you from the explosion of it. The door was busted down with a battering ram and cops entered yours and Bucky’s apartment. Bucky knocked out one of the cops by slamming his head into the wall when one of them tried to grab you.

“Run!” Bucky and Steve say to you.

You nodded and ran out of the apartment. You fought anyone who got in your way. Bucky and Steve weren’t too far behind you. You ran as fast as your legs would let you. The Super Soldier serum gave you an advantage. You ran throw a hallway of the apartment complex and jumped over to the building next door, landing on the roof.

“I see your sister.” Sam informs Steve.

“Keep an eye on her please.” Steve says.

“On it, Cap.” Sam says.

You got knocked down by T’Challa who’s dressed in his Black Panther uniform. You stood up and got into a fighting position. You saw his claws come out. There’s no doubt that you’re going to walk away with some scratches from his claws. To avoid that from happening, you dodged him the best you could. You got knocked down by him again. You grabbed both of his wrists and used all of your strength to keep him from scratching you. Bucky saw and rushed over to you. He got T’Challa off of you by tackling him to the ground. Bucky stands up and helps you up. You two ran as fast as you two could to get away from T’Challa. Steve was right behind you guys. Before you guys knew it, all of you were stopped by Rhodey and the cops.

“Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal.” Rhodey says.

Bucky protectively holds you against him and Steve stands in front of you to prevent the cops from putting handcuffs on you.

“Step away from her, guys.” Rhodey says.

“No.” Bucky and Steve say at the same time.

“It’s ok, guys.” You say softly.

Bucky and Steve looked at you. You gave them a nod. They hesitantly stepped away from you. The second they did, you were shoved to the ground and handcuffed. It broke Bucky’s and Steve’s hearts to see. They were put into a vehicle shortly after you were handcuffed. The ride was dead silent until T’Challa spoke up.

“How long do you think you can keep your sister safe from me?” T’Challa asks Steve.

“She didn’t do it. She’s been framed.” Bucky says.

“Bucky.” Steve softly warns.

“It’s true and you know it, Steve.” Bucky says.

Steve knows it’s true. He just doesn’t want an argument to break out in the vehicle. When the vehicle comes to a stop, it’s at a facility. When Bucky and Steve got out of the vehicle, they saw you in a pod like you’re a criminal.

“Are you fucking serious? She’s not a criminal. Get her the hell out of it.” Bucky says.

“It’s for everyone’s protection.” Ross says.

“No, it’s not. You guys just want to put her in a maximum security prison for something she didn’t do.” Bucky says.

“She’s a dangerous to everyone.” Ross says.

“Never fucking say that about my sister! She’s anything but dangerous!” Steve growls.

“Sorry, Rogers. This is what’s best for her.” Ross says.

“You don’t know what’s best for my sister! Bucky and I know what’s best for her and this isn’t best for her!” Steve says.

“It’s just for precaution, you guys.” Natasha says.

Bucky and Steve scoffed at her and Ross. They were taken to a room that looks like a conference room.

“How has she been?” Steve asks Bucky.

“She has her good days and bad days. Other than that, she’s been doing good. I’ve been taking care of her.” Bucky says.

“Thank you for taking care of my sister, Buck.” Steve says.

“You don’t have to thank me, Steve. You know I’m more than happy to take care of your sister.” Bucky says.

Meanwhile, you’re still locked up in the metal pod like a criminal. Zemo entered the room you’re in. He sat down at the table that’s a few feet away from you.

“Hello, Miss. Rogers.” Zemo greets you.

You didn’t greet him back. You just started at him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re Captain America’s sister, right?” Zemo asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

Zemo didn’t stop asking you questions. You chose not to answer them. Bucky and Steve were watching on a security camera screen in the room they’re in.

“I don’t know why they called someone in to get through to Y/N. The only people who can get through to her is us.” Bucky says.

Steve nods in agreement. That’s when the power goes out. Everyone looked at each other in confusion, wondering why the power went out. Bucky and Steve were the only ones who weren’t confused. They know what’s going on. They ran to the room you’re in, only to find out that you broke free of the metal pod. Bucky and Steve saw Zemo on the floor. Steve grabs his shirt, pulling him up from the floor and shoving him against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to my sister?!” Steve asks, almost growling.

“You’ll see.” Zemo says, smirking evilly.

That’s when you came back into the room and started attacking your brother and your boyfriend. They quickly realized that you’re in Winter Soldier mode. They dodged all of the punches and kicks. They did everything they could to not hurt you.

“Y/N, this isn’t you. You have to snap out of this.” Steve says.

You didn’t snap out of it. You continued fighting them. Bucky and Steve did everything they could to get through to you. When they were finally able to get ahold of you, they took you somewhere safe, which was an abandoned warehouse. When you finally came to and you were your normal self, you already know what just happened, especially from the way Bucky, Steve, and Sam were looking at you.

“It happened, didn’t it?” You asked, referring to you being in Winter Soldier mode a little bit ago.

“Yes.” Bucky and Steve say.

You sighed and covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. You knew it was going to happen sooner than later.

“Which Y/N am I talking to?” Steve asks just to be sure.

“It’s me, Stevie.” You say.

You gave him that nickname when you two were kids. That answer was enough for Steve to know that you’re back to your normal self.

“I didn’t do what everyone thinks I did. You guys have to believe me.” You say.

“We believe you, doll. Just know that everything is going to be ok.” Bucky says.

“Is it though? Everyone thinks I murdered someone and I should be put into a maximum security prison. I don’t want to go to jail.” You say, your voice cracking and your eyes tearing up.

“You’re not going to jail. We’ll make sure of it.” Steve says.

“I’m scared, you guys.” You say.

Bucky and Steve walked over to you and hugged you. That’s when you broke down into tears. Their hearts broke for you.

“Lucky for you, you have us. You know that we won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bucky says softly.

“I don’t know you like your brother and Bucky do, but you have me too.” Sam chimes in.

“Thank you, guys. That really means a lot.” You say.

“We’ll always have your back. You know that.” Steve says softly.

———

You were hidden safely inside of the empty airport with Bucky and Sam while Steve went to go talk to Tony. The three of you watched from the window as your brother talk to Tony. From the looks of it, it looked like it wasn’t going well. Your nerves are through the roof. Bucky held your hand, giving it a gentle and comforting squeeze. That made you smile.

“Ok. You know what, you’re going to turn in your sister whether you like it or not.” Tony says.

“I’m telling you that she didn’t do it. She’s innocent. My sister would never intentionally hurt or kill anyone.” Steve says.

“You can say that all you want, Rogers, but your sister killed someone and she’s going to jail for it.” Tony says.

“She didn’t do it!” Steve says.

Tony still didn’t believe Steve, which led to a fight. You were still safely hidden inside of the airport. Or so you thought.

“I got 3 heat signatures inside of the airport. It’s Steve’s sister, Barnes, and Wilson.” Rhodey says.

“Rogers’s sister is mine.” T’Challa says.

Steve acted fast when T’Challa made his way towards the airport. He quickly got in front of him, blocking him from getting any closer to the airport.

“Captain.” T’Challa says.

“Your highness.” Steve says.

“Move.” T’Challa says.

“No.” Steve says.

Steve did what he could to protect you and stand his ground. He’s not going to let anyone get their hands on you and throw you into a maximum security prison. Bucky isn’t going to let anyone do that either. Now, all of you are standing on the tarmac.

“What do we do now?” You asked.

“We fight.” Steve says.

You took a shaky deep breath as you, Bucky, Steve, Sam and the rest of your team walked towards Tony and his team.

“They’re not stopping.” Peter says.

“Neither are we.” Tony says.

As both teams approached each other, T’Challa had a murderous look on his face as he stared you down. He went straight for you. You used the fighting skills you learned in HYDRA to fight him, minus the killing part. You managed to dodge most of the punches he threw your way, but then he managed to grab ahold of your throat. He didn’t choke you or slit your throat with his claws. He just placed his hand there so you’d be looking him straight in his eyes. You put your hands on his chest to push him away from you.

“I didn’t kill your father.” You say.

“Then why did you run?” T’Challa asks.

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you lifted your leg to knee him in his stomach, which made him let got of your throat. That didn’t stop him from fighting you. You backed up quickly as his claws kept getting closer and closer to slicing you. You ended up tripping over something, which made you fall down. You looked up at T’Challa as he stood over you. He crouches down over you. One of his hands reached for your throat again with his claws out. Then you saw red around him. Both of you looked over at Wanda. She used her powers to get him away from you. You quickly scrambled to stand up.

“Thank you, Wanda!” You say.

“You’re welcome!” Wanda says.

You ran as fast as your legs would let you, but then T’Challa caught up to you. He jumped onto you from behind, tackling you to the ground. You used all of your strength to get him off of you. When both of you stood up, you and him stared each other down like you two were in the Wild West. You saw his claws come out and he approached you. You grabbed his arm when he tried to slice you. A sharp and pain filled gasp left your lips when the claws on his free hand slices you. You slowly looked down at the cuts on your stomach. Blood was beginning to pour out of each cut. You began to feel woozy due to how much blood you’re losing and fell down to the ground. Bucky saw and rushed over to you.

“Doll, talk to me. What’s wrong?” Bucky asks worriedly.

That’s when Bucky saw your shirt sliced and soaked with blood. His heart drops and his eyes grow wide at the sight of it. He knew T’Challa did that to you. Anger began coursing through his veins and he looked up at T’Challa with the look of anger on his face. He stood up and tackles T’Challa to the ground, throwing punches at him. Steve saw and ran over to him, pulling him off of T’Challa.

“Calm down, Buck.” Steve says.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Steve! He badly injured Y/N!” Bucky says.

Steve looks over at you, his eyes widening when he saw a small pool of blood underneath you. Both him and Bucky ran over to you.

“Everyone stop!” Steve shouts.

Everyone stopped fighting and walked over to you to see that you’re badly injured.

“She needs medical attention.” Bucky says.

Steve couldn’t agree more. Bucky picked you up bridal style and him and Steve rushed you to the nearest hospital. Everyone went with you guys. Bucky’s and Steve’s nerves were through the roof. They know that you’re going to pull through, but they couldn’t help but think of the worst possible scenarios. Everyone was comforting them the best they could. Tony was doing research. Not just ordinary research. He was doing digging. That’s when he came across information. Information and picture proof that you’ve been framed for T’Challa’s father’s death by Zemo.

“Rogers, Barnes, you guys need to see this.” Tony says, handing them a tablet.

Bucky and Steve looked at the tablet. It’s proof that you were framed for T’Challa’s father’s death and you’re innocent, which is what they’ve been saying all along.

“We fucking told you guys that Y/N is innocent, but half of you guys didn’t believe us! Now, she could possibly die due to the injuries he gave her!” Bucky says, raising his voice.

T’Challa looks at the tablet, which tells him that you’re innocent and didn’t kill his father. He was too blinded by vengeance to see that. Now that he knows the truth, he’s done letting vengeance consume him. Now, all he feels is guilt. He doesn’t even know where to begin with his apology for badly injuring you.

“You better hope that Y/N survives this.” Bucky says to T’Challa.

A couple agonizing hours go by is when a doctor finally comes out to the waiting room to update Bucky, Steve, and everyone else on how you’re doing. Bucky and Steve quickly stood up from their chairs when they saw the doctor.

“It was touch and go for a while, but she’s fine. She’s in a patient room right now. I can take you guys to her.” The doctor says.

Bucky and Steve nodded and followed the doctor to your hospital room. You were just coming out of anesthesia when they came into the room. You smiled when you saw them. They felt relieved to see that you’re awake and doing fine.

“Hi.” You smiled.

“Hi.” They smiled back.

They walked over to you, sitting on either side of your hospital bed.

“I’m sorry that I scared you guys.” You apologized.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, Y/N.” Steve says.

“The good thing is that you survived.” Bucky says.

You smiled at them.

“We have good news.” Steve says.

“What is it?” You curiously asked.

“There’s proof that you were framed.” Bucky says.

“There is?” You asked.

“Yes. Tony did some digging and found the proof.” Steve says.

“That’s relieving.” You say.

You feel relieved to know that there’s proof of your innocence, but you couldn’t help but tear up.

“Hey, what’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asks softly.

“No one believed me.” You say, your voice cracking.

“We did and now, everyone else does.” Steve says.

“Really?” You asked.

Bucky and Steve nodded. You feel really relieved to know that everyone believes you now. The three of you looked over at the door when someone knocked on it. It was the Avengers.

“Are you up for visitors?” Natasha asks.

“Of course. Come in.” You say.

All of the Avengers came into your hospital room. All of them gave you hugs and told you that they’re glad that you’re fine. Then it was T’Challa’s turn to say something to you.

“I would like to apologize for what I did to you.” T’Challa says.

You nodded, giving him permission to do so. You felt Bucky’s hand protectively tightened around yours.

“I am so sorry for what I did. I was so blinded by anger and wanting revenge. I just wanted someone to pay for my father’s death. I would never intentionally hurt or kill someone. I’m done letting vengeance consume me. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me.” He says.

“I do forgive you. I don’t blame you for doing what you did either. I probably would’ve done the same thing.” You say.

T’Challa smiles, liking how forgiving you are. He walks over to you and gives you a hug.

“So, does this mean we all have some kind of truce?” You asked, looking at everyone.

You, Steve, and the Avengers agreed to the truce, except for Bucky. He’s still not happy with T’Challa for what he did to you.

“Bucky, we all agreed to a truce.” You say.

“Yea, I know.” Bucky says.

“Are you going to agree to the truce too?” You asked.

“I don’t know, doll.” He says.

“I know what you’re thinking, honey. Yes, I could’ve possibly died from the injuries T’Challa gave me, but I didn’t. I survived it and he apologized. That’s all that matters.” You say.

You’re right and Bucky knows it. He’s just being an overprotective boyfriend, which he has every right to be.

“You’re right.” Bucky agrees. “I agree to the truce too.” He says.

“Good.” You say.

You leaned up just enough to peck his lips softly without injuring yourself any further.

“I love you.” You say softly.

“I love you too, babydoll.” Bucky says just as softly.

You had joined their ranks a couple of years later than the original Winter Soldier programme in the 40s. It was 1967, you listened to the Beatles on the brand-new record player your mother had bought for your birthday, and you went to the movies with your friends. Life was perfect, until it was not.

Your father had fought in World War Two, actually managing to achieve quite a high rank in the Army. Somewhere along those battles, he had angered a few HYDRA officers.

Twenty years later, they were seeking for an individual to turn into their newest asset—this time, a woman. Someone not too tall, and agile enough to complete missions. You just so happened to meet most of their requirements—and could prove to be the ideal way to get retribution from an old enemy.

It was a quiet summer evening, you carried inside the bag that you cheerfully carried a brand-new dress. One you had been dying to buy for months now—the neck was heart-shaped, coloured a beautiful red. All those days spent working at your local dinner had finally paid off.

The blink of an eye was all it took to vanish you from the streets. One moment you were taking a turn through a less concurred street, and the next one you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Out, stripped away from your world in broad daylight.

The year that followed was a blur of electricity and medical cots, procedures held under the guidance of men who were far from licensed medics. They injected you with something, that much you knew. It wasn’t the traditional serum, it was something different, new, developed.

They didn’t need you to gain superhuman strength—no, you were meant to stay small, unnoticeable. The mental methods they had used on you were sharper, too. Twenty years had made them learn and evolve.

You were easily triggered than the Winter Soldiers, completely and utterly subservient. If HYDRA was against any action that you did, they could very easily shut you down. The pinnacle of the project was, however, your union with the Asset.

A perfect partner, soft where he was rough, weak where he was strong. An almost natural connection, deeply programmed into the most obscure corners of your minds. A union never meant to be broken. The missions you got dispatched to together were the ones with the upmost significance. Every blow, every shot, was intricately calculated.

You moved in sync, you shot, he covered your back, he attacked, you waited to defend his weaker spots. Even now, when fighting had taken a more domestic outlook. It had been some time since the pair of you had managed to escape HYDRA—physically escape, that is. Their mental grip was still very much there.

Bucharest was nice. Nicer than anything you could remember. Despite having to constantly be on the look for potential HYDRA agents trying their mightiest to bring you back into their facilities, life in Romania felt good, it felt domestic. You scrambled the bits of your brain that still knew how to proceed with daily tasks, and started to slowly build a life together with Bucky.

The flat was small, one bedroom, one area that held the kitchen, the living room, and the dining room, and a bathroom. Though the average person would consider the building a terrible deal, it was luxurious compared to the icy-cold cells you were accustomed to.

It didn’t have much furniture, just a table, a couple of chairs, a small TV that only displayed three channels, a microwave, a ripped couch, a wooden coffee table, and a bed. Despite there being enough space for both of you, Bucky only seldom slept besides you. His nights were haunted by nightmares—and as were yours.

Generally, he chose to lie on the floor beside you, with a pillow and a blanket to work as a makeshift bed. The mattress was uncomfortably soft, and that often was something that troubled your sleep.

Neither of you talked much, words had been something forbidden for far too long. After being stripped of a liberty as simple as talking, one forgot how to articulate sentences. You didn’t need reassuring words and heartfelt conversations, both your eyes told everything you needed to know. Yours were softer than his, deep and warm, a blanket that comforted Bucky through the worst of nightmares.

The minute he unlocked the door, stepping into the flat and allowing himself to breathe in the scent of food and something so distinctively yours, his shoulder eased.

You were there, just a few steps away, right where he could watch you. If anything were to happen, if anyone were to attack, it wouldn’t matter quite as much, because you were there. As long as you remained together, you would survive.

Some vulnerable moments had flourished. You still remembered the night Bucky had told you his name. Before that, you didn’t really call him anything. You addressed him with hums, nudges and attention-calling words; he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, he wasn’t the Asset, he was someone else, and from that night on, you knew who.

He had been sitting on the couch, hugging his legs, and hiding his face. Memories were slowly starting to flow back into his mind. Flashes, brief voices. Fair lights, mud, the voice of a girl with his eyes and shorter stature, Boy Scout medals, a cliff, jazz music, books, and an observatory.

Some other day, brief scenes had come to your mind. Vinyls, a group of girls, pencils, a dog, hair curlers, a notebook, a shop in the corner of a street, a melody, and a hand.

However, the memories that flowed were not always pleasant ones. There were nights in which your mind would be invaded by guilt and sorrow. The eyes of everyone you had killed, the horror as you had pressed the trigger. No matter how much you tried to bury it, it always came back.

Winter was around the corner, which meant the heating system in the building did little to keep cold away. That exactly might have been the last draw leading to Bucky's breakdown. Over the last few days, he had been quiet, grumpier than usual. Waking up several times in the same night, cold sweat, and trembling.

He shut the TV down any time they mentioned the Avengers, especially Captain America, and he flinched at the mention of any word of his list of triggers.

You knocked on the door three times, your personal signal to let Bucky know you were going to enter the building. You found him sitting in a corner, curled up, hair falling over his face.

“Bucky?” you called out, taking slow and steady steps in his directions. He didn't move at the mention of his name, nor with the vibration of your feet in the floor.

“Bad day, hm?” you carefully sat down next to him, tilting your body weight in his direction, yet not completely stepping into his personal space. “It's cold.” The first words you had managed to hear from him in days. “It is kind of cold, yeah. Maybe I could make some tea.”

And just as you started to get up, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back down. “Stay here,” Bucky huffed, barely lifting his head up. You nodded, leaning more comfortably against him.

His eyes were strained on the floor, sporadically, they would shut close. You knew what it meant, the darkest memories of his past hell were grazing his mind. “Don't do that, don't blame yourself like that,” you told him with a sigh.

“Why not? I deserve it. After everything I did--I don't deserve this quiet,” he choked out, meeting your gaze. Just then, your heart broke. You knew him, you understood him, and that only made it more painful.

You moved some hairs away from his face, your fingers brushing his skin. His eyes fluttered close. Not only was he allowing you to touch him, he was leaning into it. “Maybe neither of us does. But… we can still try. Build a life and everything, we get to decide now.”

“you’re damn right something isn’t right, kid” -sam, looking around the battlefield “where’s the other half of our team?”

“it’s not the same. time has passed” -you “i know what it feels like…to wake up after a long time. you can tell it’s different. especially here”

“you’re paranoid like your dad, you know?” -sam

“i might be more paranoid than him” -you

as those who reappeared in wakanda gained their bearings, found each other—the portals opened

“sorry is this—is this a common occurrence that we just walk through mysterious portals that open for us?” -you

before you could receive a snarky remark from anyone, bucky walked through

“hey, kiddo” -bucky, open-armed

“dad!” -you, running into his arms, voice muffled by his shoulder “what the hell is going on?”

“i wish i could put it all into words right now, but we have one last battle to fight. you with me?” -bucky

“i guess the portal isn’t so mysterious now” -you

you found yourself in the ruins of the avengers compound among an army of other heroes, some you knew and some were…strange

and across the crater was thanos’s army and a massive spaceship floating overhead

“i can’t lose you again, y/n. we stick together” -bucky

the charge began and you felt so in over your head

your mind still raced with questions and you tried so hard to stay focused as aliens came rushing at you

“y/n! focus!” -bucky

he could tell you weren’t all there at the moment

“shit!” -you taking fire in the leg

that sure got you focused

your dad checked on you, along with steve who heard your “bad language word” on the comms

“can you still fight? we can get you somewhere safe if you need to tap out” -steve

“please, i can do this all day” -you, groaning as you got up

steve and bucky smiled at each other for the first time in a long time. you had never heard the phrase from either of them

“you sure this one isn’t mine?” -steve

“maybe they’ve got my memories” -bucky

“what? what are you talking about?” -you

“nothing, we’ll tell you later. on your feet, soldier” -bucky, helping you up the rest of the way “good thing us super soldiers heal fast”

“i feel better already” -you, dusting yourself off (and lying)

the battle persisted, you were exhausted, you were still weary of what you hadn’t been told yet, you were amongst a hundred other superheroes that made you feel small

and you knew at any moment you could lose your dad, or your “uncle” or anyone else here worth a damn

then you saw a gun pointed right at bucky and without thinking, you jumped in front of him to save him—taking the shot to the stomach

he immediately took out that enemy

“y/n! come on, kid, why’d you do that?” -bucky, cradling you on the ground “bucky to strange, i need an extraction. y/n’s been hit”

a portal opened up beside you and bucky took you into a medbay in wakanda where doctors were on standby, setting you on a table as they went to work

you got lucky, they were able to fix you up without major surgery, but you were weak

“we need to go back. dad, they need us” -you

“no, i need you” -bucky “we’re done, you can rest now”

bucky needed rest, too. he’d spent the last 5 years mourning you and pouring himself into work. now you were here with him again and he wouldn’t let you go

you waited to hear from the team, hoping to whatever higher power there was that they made it out and beat thanos

and the portal opened and out stepped sam and steve, filthy from battle with streaks of tears cutting through the dirt on their faces

“what? did we…we won, right?” -you

“thanos is gone” -steve nodded “we lost tony. he’s the reason we’re still standing”

the room went quiet, you and bucky guilt ridden. bucky more so. it was complicated

“we’re glad you made it out, kid” -sam, trying to break the tension as he sat at your bedside “just a scratch, right?”

“oh, yeah. gonna be one hell of a scar, though” -you

steve and bucky stepped aside

“it’s time to let y/n be a kid now. you ready?” -steve

“i have no idea. i really don’t. can they even be a kid after all of this?” -bucky

“we’ll have to tell them what happened after things settle down. what they missed.” -steve

“it really wasn’t much” -bucky

“still. and buck…i think it’s my time” -steve

“really? after all this you really want to go back and change how it happened?” -bucky

“i need to try again” -steve

you and sam exchanged stories to distract from the horrors you’d just faced. you didn’t mind the pain from the laughter, and bucky didn’t mind seeing you smile again.

after a few days of recovery you were back on your feet, leg and torso both healed well—though you were still walking with a little limp. you insisted you were fine

it was saying goodbye to steve that hurt the most, and even if bucky said he was fine you knew your dad was just as shaken by the goodbye as you were

it was hard to figure out those next steps

bucky had already been pardoned during those 5 years you missed, wrapping up his court appointed therapy in the best way possible—he got you back and he could finally be the father he’d wanted to be since before the war.

“do you feel confident navigating that?” -therapist

“no. but does anyone?” -bucky

you moved into bucky’s apartment—pretty barren after all this time

and honestly, you didn’t really know what you liked either

you got your own room and a comfy bed and any resource to decorate and it just…didn’t feel right

“well, we can go shopping? i don’t know where or for what but something’s gotta stand out right?” -bucky

he felt awful once he realized you hadn’t really found who you were just yet. anyone you age should have interests and hobbies and a favorite color

that’s how movie night started. steve gave him recommendations before he left. trying to expose you to some sense of normalcy. maybe you’d see someone’s outfit in a movie and go “i like that!” or a room decorated in a fun way and try to replicate it. maybe that was what you were missing, inspiration

the adjustment from being a child super soldier confined to cryosleep to being a teenager was not one anyone could prepare either of you for

sam tried to help when he could, bringing over board games and music and recommending old tv shows like full house and fresh prince and anything else that could kind of teach you about the teenage experience

you felt a void inside of you that you really needed to fill

“innnn west philadelphia born and raised, on the playground is where i spent most of my days—” -sam singing the fresh prince theme song during your existential crisis

you were itching to get back to what you knew, something that would make you feel a little more normal. you wanted missions again. nothing like “murder in cold blood,” just something that would validate your usefulness and make you feel like you belong

“i don’t want you doing that anymore, y/n. i want you to give you a normal life. no more missions, no more experiments” -bucky

now he was starting to feel like he was raising a teen bc you were pushing back

“then i’ll just join the military! i’m sure they’d love another super soldier!” -you

“come on, y/n. that’s just signing you life away to the government. do you want to be owned again?” -bucky “you can’t even join until you’re 18”

“i’m 64” -you

“yeah, well to the US government you were born in 2003 and you blipped. i tried to get your legal documents to make you look normal, so no, you’re not 64. you are 16” -bucky

“ugh! i didn’t ask for my life to be fixed! i am what i am and you can’t change that no matter what legal documents you lie on!” -you

“come on, y/n. you don’t have to fight anymore. you can make friends, go to school, get a job. you’re allowed to have fun now, no more taking orders” -bucky

“feels like i’m taking orders from you” -you

“oh, yeah, i’m just sooo terrible for giving you your freedom from HYDRA. sorry to wake you from your thirty year cryosleep and give you bodily autonomy again i’m just so terrible” -bucky

“shut up” -you

“what?! shut up?? you shut up!” -bucky

“was that an order?” -you, slamming your door

bucky had to call sam, who laughed at him and then told him about his nephews who were chronologically and physically younger than you but still kids that can be a pain sometimes

“am i doing something wrong?” -bucky

“listen to yourself man, does it sound like you’re doing anything wrong?” -sam “i know you grew up in a different time and all this is new territory, but being there is what matters right now. navigate it with y/n. and decorate that damn room, it looks like a prison cell”

that’s where bucky really stopped questioning every move he made and just tried to be present with you

sam recommended him the terminator movies and bucky threw together a super special movie night with pizza and popcorn and candy and fuzzy blankets and new pajamas and anything else he could find that you might’ve liked

and you kind of fell in love with the terminator movies.

“he’s like us” -you about arnold schwarenegger

“a little” -bucky stealing your snacks “but we’re cooler”

“i remember the 80s a little. they were kind of cool” -you “i had a mission in california in ‘85—now that was a weird place to be. very colorful”

you let your guard down a bit more and let yourself begin to enjoy things, got less pushy about wanting to fight again, got your room all set up

teased your dad because his room was literally barren.

you’d find him sleeping on the floor some days, but you didn’t think much of it. it made sense to you

he went on missions and left you alone in the house some days, it was nice to have some quiet and explore on your own. take walks, try new food, watch some movies you wouldn’t watch with your dad

and he texted you constantly to check in

he vented to sam and he gushed to sam—both about being your dad. it was hard some days but so rewarding others

“that’s what it’s all about” -sam

“you think clint will give me some advice?” -bucky

“couldn’t hurt to ask” -sam

clint and bucky had some unspoken similarities, talking amongst each other was comfortable

you visited the barton farm with bucky and met the barton clan

teenage daughter and son that you practically had nothing in common with, but they tried to make you feel included while clint, laura, and bucky talked

“we’re no super soldiers, but we know a thing or two about raising teenagers. we we’re both SHIELD agents but when i got pregnant, i retired” -laura

“yeah, she got the harder job, though. doing it alone while you’re still doing the job, that’s got to be a lot” -clint

“i mean, i’ve got people…sam, and…” -bucky

“us” -laura

“i don’t know how to take care of y/n. they went so long without parenting and they were a soldier themself. how do you break that mentality from them when it’s all they ever knew?” -bucky

“times like these i wish nat was still here” -clint “she wasn’t as young as y/n when i met her. she didn’t get to transition back into childhood, but it took some time to get her comfortable being a person. that part of her was always in there, the part that made her a soldier…but the humanity came back”

“y/n has humanity, what’s hard is getting them to relate to other people their age. getting into new hobbies that aren’t loading a gun fastest or shooting a moving target” -bucky

“well, y/n seems to be getting along with ours just fine” -laura, pointing at you, lila, cooper, and nathaniel playing soccer together in the yard “maybe y/n just needs space to grow, that’s usually how teenagers are”

“i mean, sure, y/n’s not gonna relate to many people their age. it’ll mostly be with other soldiers. but they can still have common interests or introduce them to new things that y/n might like and make them feel more normal. but honestly, no teenager feels ‘normal’” -clint

it was an eye opening conversation for bucky. gave him a lot to think about. made him feel less crazy. gave him the answers he was looking for

“thank you. so much. i’m so glad sam pointed me your way” -bucky

“you’re welcome back anytime” -laura

the kids also introduced you to video games, their favorite shows and movies from a teenager in this era, gave you some clothes they thought you’d like, and were sooo bummed when you and bucky went home. like you were a friend they’d known for years and didn’t want to part with

bucky and you both felt content in your own way

then the curveball came

“i’m running for congress” -bucky

“hahah, cool” -you

“i’m serious” -bucky

“…what?” -you

the campaign was honestly not bad

you decided to outwardly support your dad, show up to events, talk about your experiences and how you came back from hardship. you stole the hearts of the voters of new york

and he won

you guys moved to a nice penthouse apartment in brooklyn and despite the fact you were growing up, you still stuck with him for now. it made sense.

“i won’t be upset if you move out one of these days. i know it’s weird not having a parent until you’re almost an adult. being told to be a kid when you don’t feel like you ever were. if you need to be free i’ll support you” -bucky

“it’s okay, i could get comfortable here” -you in the new apartment

“well, okay then” -bucky (trying to hide his excitement that you dont want to leave the nest yet)

you’d hit your legal adulthood around this time and stopped being so restless about leaving and fighting and just got comfortable being a homebody

you supported “congressman barnes” and he’d listen to your point of view as a blipped person, a captive, a teen super soldier, human experimentation, and all that stuff

you actually got really into this whole political career thing

oh and you hated valentina de fontaine you could tell she was just like HYDRA

she just left a bad taste in your mouth

“oh hello, barnes junior! is it take your kid to work day?” -val

“i’m just a really big fan of impeachment” -you

“i’m sure you’ll be thoroughly disappointed after today’s hearing then!” -val

then it clicked for you. you needed to become a spy again. get the proof. get her impeached. get her thrown in prison.

bucky was thinking the same thing

and bucky was hoping you would want to, too

and that’s how you ended up riding a motorcycle through the desert and kidnapping detaining yelena belova, john walker, and ava starr

“hey bucky! this your kid? looks just like you!” -john “you know, i have a kid, too. gotta get home to the little one, you know?”

“john, i know your wife left and took your kid. now you’re working for valentina and you’re coming with us to get her impeached and thrown in prison where she belongs” -bucky

“jesus” -you

“fine, sorry, i know what it’s like to not have your kid. it’s hard. but we need val in prison as soon as possible” -bucky

it just so happened all your priorities aligned and you all went to take valentina down together

“been a while since we’ve been able to fight together” -you

“please don’t get shot again” -bucky

“i wasn’t planning on it, but maybe now i will” -you

“it is nice to see winter soldier with his equally skilled child. you remind me of me and my daughters. yelena and y/n may have something in common, as well. i hope they are getting along back there” -alexei

“child soldier?” -yelena

“child soldier. you?” -you

“yes. me too” -yelena

“nice” -you, fistbumping

shit got real fast after that. like real fast

like you got thrown against a wall by some dude with a bad dye job named “bob”

*cursing in russian*

*bucky scolding*

*yelena and alexei laughing*

*you cursing more*

“are you okay?” -bucky

“didn’t get shot” -you

“yeah but did you break your spine?” -bucky

“no i think it’s intact. i can walk it off” -you

oh cool the entirety of manhattan is in a void of darkness where you relive your mose shameful memories

sure hope they aren’t that bad!

*is a literal child supersoldier*

you saw some missions from when you were young, stuff you never wanted to see again

bucky saw the time he was so close to saving you, but he had to save himself. the way he lost himself when you blipped and had to be saved by steve.

you watched each other’s memories with understanding and guilt, knowing there was so much you didn’t know about each other still

you gave your dad a hug. you both needed it.

“let’s please get out of here so i never have to think about these things ever again, ‘kay?” -you

“i am with you there” -ava

so anyway i started blasting (a/n: danny devito reference because i can)

the team picked up yelena and bob in the void and wrapped this shitshow up with a lot of crying to follow tonight

breaking from the void and confronting val was almost successful—until you all walked into a live tv appearance

and when valentina said the you all were the new avengers, you actually smiled.

like, you knew it was going to be bad working for her, but the idea of being on a team and going on missions again—that’s what you wanted

yeah, the you and the people surrounding you were not as clean as the avengers were, but maybe this could be a good thing? maybe you could all show the world how far you’ve come.

you looked at your dad, who’s concerned face changed to something more like relief when he saw your face light up at the thought of you being an avenger, even if he couldn’t see him as an avenger himself

“i want to do good for a change” -you

“your past doesn’t define you, y/n. those things you did aren’t who you are. you don’t have to prove that you’re good” -bucky

“but i know how to use what i am for good” -you “maybe this is what i was meant to do. maybe i was always meant to be a soldier, and maybe we can make valentina work for us. this can be our way of keeping an eye on her”

“…how can i say no to you?” -bucky

When you wake up, you’re freezing and out of breath. The initial moments after those long-term freezes were always frightening. You do not know how long it has been since you were taken, and part of you wonders if you ever will. You’re only ever conscious here, surrounded by generals and guards.

As soon as you wake up, a muzzle is clamped over your mouth. You’re a screamer, or at least you used to be. But now the muzzle is put on as a reminder that you are truly trapped and have no autonomy.

Someone will come in soon to say a list of words that will snap you out of your brain—Maybe snap is the wrong word. You will be locked out of your brain, conscious enough to know what you are doing but not at all in control.

You’re sitting in this big metal chair that might have scared you all those years ago, your arms strapped to the arms of the chair. The dimness of the room almost makes you scared as if you are a six-year-old who is afraid of the dark.

 A gruff looking man walks into the room, and behind him, you can see some soldiers dragging along an exhausted man, whose hair is long, but your eyes are drawn to him. Are there.. are there other people who are in the same situation as you?

In the back of your mind, a foreign emotion sparks, something that you cannot name at first, but then you find it— hope. Maybe hope is a strong word, maybe what you should be feeling is dread, that the things you are being forced into are happening to some other poor soul. You almost want to throw up when you realize it, but like everything else in your exhausting existence, you are ripped out of your thought by commanding forces around you. The man in front of you follows your eyeline to see you watching the man, and you think you see him grimace.

You have found something that was meant to always be a secret from you. You recall a foggy memory that isolation is the key to abuse.

The man nods towards you, and suddenly, you feel a violent shock go through your body as the man wills you to forget the small detail that you will hang on to for as long as humanly possible.

When a second jab of shockwaves hits you, you black out for a few seconds, only—

• • •

You sit up in bed, gasping or air as you try to orient yourself. Your hands come up to push sweaty hair out of your face, and you grip it tight to try and ground yourself. Your heart is racing as you take deep breaths in your nose and out of your mouth, not wanting to spiral into a panic attack.

You get up from bed to go shower, before changing your now drenched in sweat sheets, and it’s only then do you turn on your light and grab the book you’ve been reading.

You sit on the floor next to your bed, feeling disgusting and upset. You try to read, but you are rereading the same paragraph repeatedly. After twenty minutes of that, you grab your flip phone off the bedside table and dial Matt’s number.

You know it’s four in the morning. He’s asleep. He has to be up for work in the morning, but you cannot help it. You have been seeing the handsome stranger for a little under a month, and he has become your drug.

But there’s a couple of things.

First, you are still lying to him. He has no idea about your time as who is known in government circles as “The Midnight Agent”, and he has no idea that you will never be able to give him the life he deserves. Hell, you haven’t even spent the night with him, your relationship has been the definition of taking it slow.

Which leads to this: You have not slept with the man.

Back in 1945, you were surrounded by purity culture. Sure, you could have had a handsome soldier in your bed, but there was a part of you that always felt guilty when you looked to your large catholic family who were always insistent on saving yourself for marriage.

But you recall the memories of your time trapped, of guards who went unchecked and memories of men who took advantage of the fact that you were brainwashed, and how you might freakout if Matt’s hands wander too far..

And you recall Matt’s comment on your first date, about how he thought a long time to go without a date was a few months.

He picks up the phone before your thoughts can spiral any further.

“Hey, baby. You okay?” His voice is thick with sleep, and you feel a pang of guilt for waking him up. But you also melt at the simple pet name, not quite used to it yet.

“Hi.. I’m sorry I woke you up..”

“No, no, it’s okay.” He lies, “You didn’t..”

“Liar.”

“Okay, you got me.” He chuckles softly, “But seriously, it’s okay. What’s up?” He asks, and you let out this sigh. What to tell him, what not to tell him..

“Can’t sleep.” You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “Wanted to hear your voice. I tried to read The Outsiders, but I couldn’t focus.” You cannot seem to do anything right..

“Okay.” He says gently, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“..Not really..”

“Okay, that’s fine.”

“Sorry..”

“Why are you apologizing?”

You pause. It’s a good question.

“I dunno..” And then after a few moments you ask, “Matt?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is it okay that we haven’t had sex yet?” The question eats at you. You recall Matt’s assumption that a ‘while’ since your last date had meant a few months. You’re worried that you’re not satisfying him and that he’ll get bored. Bored of you, bored of your quirks and oddities, bored of all of it.

And you don’t know when you’ll be okay to have sex with him, or if you’ll even be able to make it all the way through when you get to that point. And it’s eating you up— You could at least be good at something if you insist on being odd and bizarre throughout this whole relationship.

“Of course it’s okay,” He promised, “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” Sure, Matthew had his fair share of partners in the day, but this was different— You weren’t just a date to him, you were fascinating. If he hadn’t been such a realist, he might have accused you of being a time traveler.

And sure, sometimes he thought about you, about being buried between your thighs, about making you shake and cry with pleasure, and about how well he could fill you up..

But those lewd thoughts always take a backseat to how utterly interesting you are— Your odd taste in ice cream, odd movie and book tastes, the way you speak, some of the things you say..

“Because you’re hot,” you blurt out and then sigh. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, you’re so fucking handsome and I can’t even..” The words die out in your mouth, as you curl up into yourself on your floor, holding the phone pressed tightly against your ear.

“Oh, sweetheart, I don’t need to sleep with you to know that I care about you.” He promises. “Do you want me to come over? Maybe you’ll sleep better if we’re together.” He says softly.

You hesitate, looking around your apartment. If you had a nightmare, he’d question what happened.. But on the other hand, you were fucking exhausted, and maybe Handsome Matthew would be the trick to you getting some sleep.

“Sure.. but uh.. My apartment’s super messy..” You confess, and he just chuckles.

“Somehow I don’t think that’ll bother me.” He teases, and you laugh.

“Right, Right.. Sorry..” You say. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“See you soon.” He promises, and as soon as he hangs up, you immediately get up and start shuffling around to clean your apartment.

You do the dishes, you throw all your dirty clothes in the hamper, you make your bed with pristine edge and of course.. You grab the gun you keep under your pillow and stuff it right next to your vibrator next to your fuzzy socks.

You’re finally finishing up with your minor chores when you hear a knock at the door. You open it and have to take a beat to catch your breath since Matthew looks especially good with his grey sweatpants and black sweatshirt.

He grins at you, leaning into greet you with a kiss as he steps into the apartment.

“So, this is where the magic happens, huh?” He asks, and you smile bashfully.

“Something like that.” You shrug, letting him lead you through the apartment. His cane tip-taps against the floor, and your hands come up to rub your arms. It is your apartment, and yet, you feel absolutely exposed. “Uh, just… Keep going straight and the bedroom is on the right. Do you need anything?” You ask, unsure if he has some weird hypervigilant bedtime routine at.. you know.. Four in the morning.

His cane shifts hands and he holds his free hand out behind him, for you to take.

“Just you.” Your face flushes as you take his hand,

“You’re such a flirt.” And he laughs.

“How can I help myself when I’m in a pretty girl’s place?” he asks, and you go to answer but he leans against the wall right next to the doorframe, dropping his duffle bag and cane in favor of pulling you close, your chest against his. Your breath catches and he smirks as if he can see your flustered nature.

“You’re a decent young man,” you start, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that it’s rude to grab people?”

“No, the nuns never mentioned that.” He does that adorable half chuckle before tilting his head. “Why? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?”

Your face flushes.

“Everything makes me nervous, Matthew, you know that.” You accuse and he laughs again, nodding.

“Yeah, maybe I do know that. Seems familiar.” He hums, his grip on you loosening a bit. He presses another kiss to your lips. “Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart.” You don’t protest, simply grabbing his hand and pulling him along to bed. He’s more than happy to follow you through.

You find yourself laying in the bed, and he’s standing to the side as if he’s staring at you. You raise an eyebrow to him.

“What? What is it?” You ask, and he quickly moves, jumping on top of you. You laugh a bit to hide your nerves, and he grins. He leans down and presses a long kiss to your lips before whispering,

“If we never have sex, I’ll still stay with you forever.” He says gently, and your face is deeply flushed.

“Forever?” You ask gently. He nods, leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips.

“As long as you’ll have me.” He says gently, and then, he rolls over and lays next to you. His hand finds yours and he laces his fingers with yours. You look at him for a long time, just holding his hand. “What is it?” he asks softly, glancing over to you.

“I just..” you laugh a bit. “I’ve never had a boy in my bed before.” You confess, and he laughs, his arms wrapping around you.

“You’re so odd.” He says softly, his hands finding your hair to play with it gently. “I love it.”

• • •

And this is how you spend your early morning. You sleep soundly in the arms of the one who loves you, something you have never had the privilege of before.

You slip out of bed rather early considering that you don’t have work today. But you can’t help yourself, you find yourself making breakfast for Matt. Pancakes, sausage, and coffee, just for him. At some point, he calls out to you,

“Hey, babe, where’s the shower?” And it’s rather domestic, in a way that makes you both uncomfortable and giddy. At the same time. Weird.

“Uh, right across the hall from the bedroom,” you tell him. And after about twenty minutes, Matt comes out to the kitchen. He’s dressed for work, but his tie is undone, sitting on his neck. His jacket hangs over his arms, and for a minute, you are just as you were always meant to be—

A young woman, in love with a man who has a good career, who loves you and is kind, whom you cook breakfast for and anxiously wait for him to get home.

And before you can stop yourself, you walk on over to him and begin to fix his tie, and he tilts his head.

“Where’d you learn to tie a tie on someone else?” he asks curiously. Your brain flashes to the soldiers who were never taught to tie a tie, so you learned, making sure to help them make sure their uniforms were in pristine condition.

But better than telling your boyfriend about that, you settle on a different truth.

“Needed to tie my brother’s tie a lot before work.” You settle on, and he smiles. That was the first time you had mentioned any of your family, so he just nods.

“What was his name?” ‘Was’ is a cruel but accurate detail.

“Anthony.” You tell him, finishing your work on his tie. Then, you press a kiss to his cheek. “Ready for breakfast?” He smiles and nods, as you direct him towards your table.

Yes, even though you ate mac and cheese while sitting on the floor when you first met him, you do own a table.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Pancakes and sausage. Oh, and Coffee,” You tell him. You serve breakfast and sit across from him, placing a jar of jam on the table as well as syrup. When you pop the lid off the jam, Matt tilts his head.

“Why do I smell strawberry jam?” He questions, and you just raise an eyebrow.

“For my pancakes?”

He begins to laugh.

“This is what I mean when I say you’re odd. The only other person I know who’d do that is my dad, who learnt it from my grandparents.” He tells you. You shrug.

“I grew up with jam. Syrup’s too sweet.”

“Of course you did.” He smirks, taking a bite of his breakfast.

• • •

After Matt leaves for work (After breakfast, a make out session and then ten minutes with you fixing his disheveled look), you begin to actually clean your apartment. But your apartment is only so big, so by lunchtime, you’re bored again.

So, you start cooking and making these chicken ceaser wraps and french fries, before hopping in the shower. You’ve never dated anyone who you’ve felt the need to make and bring lunch to, but there is a first time for everything.

When you get to his office, you take a while to notice and observe every little thing about the walk. When you get to the front door, your hands run over the sign that reads ‘Nelson, Murdock & Page.’ And then you remember that in going up these stairs, you’ll meet his two best friends, and your stomach flips at the idea of it.

But your fingers twitch at the idea of seeing Handsome Matthew again. You’re incredibly down bad for the man you refuse to sleep with, so you push open the door, making your way to the office. When you step inside, you’re faced with a blonde man holding a cup of coffee, talking to a different, more blonde, woman who eats her lunch. 

Maybe you have the wrong office.

“Hi— Uh, I’m looking for Matt.” The words tumble out of your lips, and you wish you could say something more.

“Yeah, he’s in his office, I can grab him for you.” The man says kindly, and steps towards the only office door that’s closed. You nod and stand awkwardly. This is weird, you know that. You are a stranger in this office holding a big lunch box.

Matt steps out of his office and smiles in your direction. Immediately, you relax. There he goes, Handsome Matthew completely messing up your thought patterns and making you go against everything you ever thought you’d do.

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

“Hey.” You smile, and you see a moment of recognition on the faces of his coworkers.

“Oh, you’re the girl—” The man starts, and then it clicks that these people must be his best friends.

“And you’re Foggy and Karen.” You smile, sticking a handout for them to shake, and they do. You introduce yourself, and they do the same. It’s not as awkward as you would’ve thought, but you’re making it so much worse in your head.

“What’s going on?” Matt asks, and you redirect your attention to him.

“Uh, I made lunch. I thought I’d bring it to you.” He smiles at this.

“Thank you. Here, let’s uh, eat in my office.” He takes your hand, and you tell Foggy and Karen that it was nice to meet them, as he closes the door behind him. You sit down in one of his chairs.

“Sorry for just barging in on you guys. I probably should have called first.” You decide, but he shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s perfectly fine.” He smiles, sitting down in his own chair as you unpack lunch. You’re seriously not used to any of this, so it’s as if you’re taking foreign steps.

The two of you make pleasant conversations before Matt asks you,

“Hey, do you want to come to the bar tonight?” He asks, “We have a usual spot we go to. I thought it might be a good way for you to get to know my friends.” He hums.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude...”

You also don’t really want to get drunk around Matt, afraid of what you might say. But he answers,

“Don’t worry, Foggy’s wife is going and so is Karen’s boyfriend.” You notice the shift in Matt’s body language.

“You don’t like Karen’s boyfriend.” You immediately recognize.

“What? No—“ He chuckles, “It’s just a complicated history..” The part of you that never grew up, that wants to dive head first into drama, the part of you that is still twenty something, clutching the arm of your sister as she spills about all the people she doesn’t like gets to your mouth before you can stop it,

“What do you mean, ‘complicated’?” You ask, and he just laughs a little.

“Really, sweetheart, it’s not—”

“Let’s make a deal,” You say, “In exchange for me bringing you a delicious lunch,” You start, “And for telling you something about my messy past, you have to tell me about that complicated history.”

“Deal.”

“Okay, than spill.”

“You remember a few years back, the uh, Punisher?” He asks, and you tilt your head. No, you don’t. It was probably before you were allowed to have autonomy and live on your own.

“Uh.. No.”

“What? It was all over the news.”

“I wasn’t living in New York until a few years ago.” Not untrue, you were living in the middle of Europe until recently.

“Oh, right.” He nods, “Well, he killed a lot of people he thought deserved it, and, as someone who has great respect for human life, I don’t know, I just can’t imagine dating someone with a kill count at all, let alone over thirty people.” He sighs, “But Karen sees something in him, I guess.”

A shiver runs down your spine. You realize that you can’t ever tell Matt about what had happened to you. He wouldn’t understand, he’d see you as a monster. Well, you are a monster, but you cannot ever tell him that! Is this a mistake? Are you supposed to break up with him now not to hurt him?

“Yeah, I can understand that.” You take another bite of your wrap.

“I believe I’m owed some of your messy history.”

“Right,” you nod, “Well, Before I moved here, I was living in Europe.” You tell him.

“Really? Where in Europe?”

“Here and there.” You shrug. “I just sort of went wherever I was needed.” You explain, again—Not a lie. Definitely not a lie. You were ordered around and told to go here and there.

“What did you do there?” He asks.

“It’s all kind of a blur,” You’re really being truthful now.

“Has anyone ever told you how weird and odd you are?” He acts, voice full of affection.

“You. Last night.” You grin, and he just grins back.

“Right. I really have a way with words, huh?”

“Yup. You’re a real charmer.”

“I meant it though.”

“Which part? The part where you called me strange?”

“The part where I asked you to come out to the bar with us tonight—And the part where I told you I’d stay with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Yes.”

“Yes you’ll come to the bar with us or you’ll let me stay with you for a while?”

You get up, circle around his desk, before placing your hand on his jaw, tilting his head up to you. Your other hand comes up to take his glasses off. For a minute, you just admire him, before pushing the hair from his face. Then, you lean in to press a kiss to his lips.

When you pull away, his lips try to follow yours, but your thumb just gently wipes away your lipstick stains from his lips.

“Yes.” You repeat, and he just grins.

He absolutely adores you.

• • •

You make sure to fix your hair before you leave your apartment, and then, you find yourself leaning on the brick wall outside of the bar. Your heart is racing, and although you do not smoke, god you need a cigarette.

Your foot taps anxiously against the pavement.

This will be fine, you tell yourself. Matt likes you, surely you can get the others to do the same. Or at least, you can try your damn best, and not just sit out here like a bitch.

Your head glances over to the door as a rather tall and gruff man approaches the door. He sees you staring at him, and opens the door before asking,

“You coming in, kid?”

Kid.

You’re a hundred years old, but okay.

“Uh, yeah.” You answer, before heading into the bar, “Thanks,” He just nods back at you. You walk in and look around for Matt and his friends. You immediately soften when you see him. Of course you can do this.

As you make your way over to them, the man who opened the door for you also heads over to them. You tilt your head as you get to your boyfriend and his friends before Karen comes over to you guys, sends you a smile, before greeting the man with a kiss. Oh. This is the boyfriend that Matt doesn’t like.

Matt greets you with a kiss, before Karen asks,

“What are you drinking?” You realize she’s asking you. What do you drink?

“Uh, whatever. I kind of like everything,” You smile weakly, before shrugging. She just nods, and then her and her boyfriend head over to the bar. You glance over to Matt, and smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles and kisses you again. “I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“Well, I did say yes earlier.”

“Yeah but you were being very vague and odd.”

“You said you liked that!”

“Shhh,” and then he kisses you again.

“You two are gross.” His friend, Foggy, says, and his wife just swats his arm.

“Sorry,” You smile, and then Frank and Karen are back at the table, and this large bottle of whiskey is placed on the table, and six glasses are placed along side it.

“Woah, big bottle.” Foggy whistles, and Karen shrugs.

“Long week. Lots of whiskey required.” Matt leans over to you and says,

“You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to—”

“I said I like everything,” You told him, “And I meant it.” You remind and the people around you laugh, so it definitely gratifies your desire to please them.

“See, this is the type of energy you needed in a date,” Foggy grins, and Karen laughs as she pours the whiskey for you all.

“I agree, I like her a lot more than I liked the last one.”

“Flattered, I love when people talk about me like I’m not here,” You tell them, as you take a long drink of your whiskey.

“You are odd,” Foggy says, and again, his wife swats his arm.

“Franklin, you cannot say that to someone you just met!”

“I was just joking, really it’s fine,” You assure, and take another sip of your drink. Then another drink. Your eyes get a glint of dog tags hanging around Frank’s neck. You nod to him. “Military?” Everyone’s head snaps to look at you, and then to him.

“Marines.” He answers, and he waits.

“I was a nurse overseas for a while.” And you almost slap your hands over your mouth, horrified at the words that just left your lips. Everyone looks at you, very confused, including sweet Handsome Matthew.

“Wait, you were in the army as a medic?” He asks, and you just nod.

“Yeah, I don’t.. really like talking about it..” You sigh, “It was a long time ago.. Before I was in Europe doing whatever, I was in Europe being a nurse.”

“Europe? There hasn’t been active combat in Europe since the 40’s,” Frank says, and you shrug.

“That’s where they had me. It’s where I learned to drink.” You finish your drink and go to refill it, “You’d be surprised how many young cadets try to assert their dominance over drinking games.” You laugh fondly at the memory.

Matt leans in to kiss your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Odd.”

• • •

You and Frank get into your own form of a drinking game as the night goes on. After two glasses, Foggy and his wife stop drinking, something about brunch with her parents in the morning.

Matt stops drinking after three, and Karen after four.

But here you and Frank are, swapping war stories like old army buddies as you make your way through the bottle. Five, six, seven.. You can’t remember by the time the bottle is empty. All you know is you’re leaning against Matt, and Frank is holding Karen close, and you are happy.

You don’t feel hidden anymore.

When the bottle is done, Matt’s fingers run up and down your arm.

“We gotta get you home, honey.”

“You need to kiss me.” You blurt, too drunk to know what you’re saying.

“What?” He grins.

“Kiss me. I want you all over me,” and you lean over to kiss him, and after a few moments, he pulls away from the kiss.

“Alright, but let’s get you home first.” And then you nod, because that’s a good idea. You don’t want Frank and Karen to see all the vicious things you want to do to Handsome Matthew. He helps you up and wraps his jacket around your arms, before glancing back to his friends. “Have a good night guys. See you Monday.”

You take a minute, before smiling at his friends.

“Thanks for having me. I had fun.” You cannot remember the last time you had this much fun. “Sorry I’m so fucking odd,” You start giggling, “But I had fun.” Everyone else, too tipsy and drunk to say much else, just laughs and sends you on your way.

You and Matt stumble home, as you mumble soft things about how much you like him, how pretty he is.

When you get back to your apartment, he locks the door behind you and helps you to your bedroom. Once there, you begin to kiss him.

“Sweetheart,” He mumbles into your lips, “Wait,” He pulls away and smiles at you. “Pajamas first.” He requests, and you nod.

“Yeah. Great Idea.” You mumble, going over to your drawers (Not the one with your vibrator, socks and gun) and pull out an old tee shirt and shorts. You begin stripping down, and you stop and glance to Matt, in just your shorts and bra, before asking, “Wait, how do I know you’re not staring at me?”

He almost laughs at how drunk you are.

“Honey,” he begins softly, and then taps the space between his eyes. Then you laugh, feeling silly.

“Oh.” You unclip your bra and slip on your tee shirt. You sit on the bed, and then lay down. You sigh deeply, your bed surprisingly comfortable after all of those drinks. You watch as Matt begins to strip down. “Handsome.” You mumble, and he laughs.

You fall asleep as he kicks his pants off before crawling into bed with you.

• • •

You wake up at some god-awful hour, maybe around two in the morning. You run over to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. After a while of throwing up, you wander on over to the kitchen.

You take a big, long drink of water, before sighing deeply.

Your stomach growls. You find a loaf of sourdough bread you had brought home from work yesterday and begin to butter a few slices. You munch on your food, and remember Matthew in your bedroom.

Your Matthew.

You finish your snack, and then find yourself sitting on the floor of your kitchen. Just like you did the first night. Your lean your head back against the cabinet. You think about your boyfriend, and you think about everyone you lost.

In your half drunk state, You only smile when Matt sits next to you on the floor.

“What’re we doing on the floor, baby?” He asks softly.

“Just.. Sleepy..” You mumble, and then a grin spreads across your face. “I’m thinking about my best friend.”

“Your best friend?”

“Taylor.” You say softly, “She was my best friend.”

“And where is she now?” He asked, leaning over to brush your hair out of your face.

“Oh, she died ten years ago.” You say, and then laugh as if it’s funny. “Natural causes.” You shrug. She had died of old age.. And you weren’t there for her. Your best friend..

Matt’s arm is around you in an instant.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He says gently, and leans in to kiss your head.

“And you..” You glance over to him. “You.. I don’t even know what to do with you.” You laugh, and he frowns.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I..” You sigh. “I mean that no one’s ever made me feel like you have..” You mumble, and then you admire him, only in his boxer briefs. “I love you, Handsome Matthew. And I don’t know what to do about it..” You mumble.

Matt just leans in to kiss your head again.

“If I said I love you too, would that help?”

“It would be a start..”

“I love you.”

“Even though I’m odd?” You ask, “Weird and bizarre? Off my rocker, completely out of my fucking mind..?”

“Especially because you’re odd.”

--------------

I was alone so long I didn't even know that I was lonely Out in the cold so long I didn't even know that I was cold Turned my collar to the wind This is how it's always been All I've ever known is how to hold my own All I've ever known is how to hold my own

-

Truly the only thing you could remember were two things. The cold. Pure ice climbing your veins. Choking your voice, glazing your vision, until black dots overfilled your mind and you were falling and falling and falling. Down and down and down.

The second thing you could remember, no matter how many times your brain was fried, lit up, with the smell of electricity in the air, was sky blue eyes. Ice. Metallic. A metal arm. Harsh when the scent of electricity and grime filled the room. Soft, tender when the eyes weren’t watching.

-

But now I wanna hold you, too You take me in your arms And suddenly there's sunlight all around me Everything bright and warm And shining like it never did before And for a moment I forget Just how dark and cold it gets

-

Now you were awake. Forcibly shoved into the land of the living. He was gone. That much you knew for sure. You weren’t sure if they had finally snapped and ended him, or if he escaped. It didn’t matter. You were alone again. Why fight? There wasn’t a point. You havent felt human in what felt like an eternity.

Ten words. Screaming. Blissful calm. Locked in your own mind. A witness to everything you destroyed. Unable to stop it. Another gun pressed into your hands. Another life ripped from somebody you didn’t know.

-

All I've ever known is how to hold my own All I've ever known is how to hold my own But now I wanna hold you Now I wanna hold you Hold you close I don't ever wanna have to let you go

-

Another mission. More lives to take. A leather wrapped Grim Reaper. A dog on a leash.

Something was wrong. Stalking the halls, curious eyes racking each shelf. A pause, gun lowering. A simple picture. Familiar sky eyes.

“Drop the gun and this doesn’t have to get ugly.” Every muscle in your body seemed to tense, the photograph in your hand fell to the ground, shattering as it hit the floor. You turned, watching as one thing you always remembered went wide. “Oh God,” he mumbled.

“Soldat?” your head tilted against your own violation.

“It really is you… they sent you to kill me, didn’t they?” He simply sighed, his own gun lowering faintly, still on edge and watching you closely.

“Not you. Him,” you lifted your head towards the shield beside him.

“You’re not going to hurt him,” he took a step closer, your own thoughts finally lit up, starting to put things together. You mouth disregarded these thoughts. It disregarded the voice you’ve become in your own head, a voice behind prisoner bars.

“You left.” You sounded weak. You hated it.

His visibly softened, “Is that what they told you? Please put down the gun. I can help you.”

-

Now I wanna hold you, hold you tight I don't wanna go back to the lonely life Say that you'll hold me forever Say that the wind won't change on us Say that we'll stay with each other And it'll always be like this

-

For once in your abnormally long life, the shell of a body you were obeyed the screaming inside its cage. The gun tumbled to the floor just as your knees buckled.

He came closer, slowing his movements as you flinched. “It’s alright now, дорогая, no one will hurt you.” He only froze for a second more before metal and flesh rose, pulling that godforsaken muzzle off, tossing it aside. “There you are.” He smiled warmly, something you couldn’t think he had done before. You would have remembered that smile. A smile that radiated like a thousand suns. It would have been burned into your memory just as his eyes were etched into your very soul.

“I-…” you swallowed harshly, taking a breath as the cage around you started to crack. “I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore, Soldat.” Your admission came in a small voice, and yet he heard you. Slowly, gently, he pulled you into his arms. Tenderness. The fleeting memories of this started to come back to you in flashes. You accepted it, falling into his chest.

“You won’t have to hurt anyone anymore,” he murmured softly, holding you close, not mentioning the hot tears starting to roll down your cheeks. “Bucky,” he added. “My name is Bucky. Soon, you’ll be able to remember you name too.” With those words you felt one more death at your hands. The death of your cage.

-

I'm gonna hold you forever The wind will never change on us As long as we stay with each other Then it will always be like this

----

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“How many do we have incoming?” a smaller nurse called out. You pulled up the Red Cross band on your arm and watched as soldiers came rushing towards the tents. Men on makeshift gurneys, others that had their arms around their comrades’ shoulders for support; screams, cries, and groans of agony filled the air. What was once the smell of dirt now mixed with the smell of burned flesh and dried blood.

You watched as men were laid on cots, those who were in severe conditions were laid on tables further into the tents. You wanted to zone out, you wanted to just stand there, to take a moment and process all the that was happening around. You watched as more and more men came in, the cots filling, and air became thick with the agony and pain.

Nurses were building makeshift cots, prepping IV bags, grabbing blades to rip clothes and uniforms to access wounds. Those who brought in the wounded were rushing back out, either to bring in more wounded men or to escape the tents of the field hospital.

“Doesn’t matter how many more we’ve got in comin’, let’s get to work,” you called out as you came back to your senses. You rushed off to cots filled with recovering soldiers, checking vitals, analyzing who was strong enough to be moved to the next tent where those who weren’t under critical condition were located. You’d whistle the soldiers who carried in their wounded men moments ago over to assist you and other nurses in moving them.

When you weren’t hovering over them, you’d be immediately called over to help with procedures, holding down screaming men, comforting them as other nurses and the limited number of doctors made the decision of whether or not their limbs were viable or needed to be amputated.

There times where you were assigned to the psychiatry tents. Nurses were not for medical purposes, but for the soldiers’ morale. If soldiers saw that nurses could hold the weight of war on their shoulders and deal with the mental damage that it caused, then so could they.

Behind the curtains of the nurses’ personal quarters, tents, tears were shared. Silent tears and embraced hands. Sometimes the nurses that specialized in psychiatry would open the floor for everyone to say what they needed, whether it be words of comfort or just needing to discuss what they’ve seen.

But not all of the nurses choose this way to relieve some of the weight of the war and the wounded men from their shoulders. Others, including yourself, had their own way to distract themselves.

-

“Dear [Y/n],

I don’t know where to start this, but I can assure you that I’m okay. I still can’t feel as if I betrayed you and Buck by leaving you on your own. I know you can handle yourself, you’re more than capable, but I don’t know, doll, I can’t help this feeling. It’s the middle of a war and we’ve left you in Brooklyn.

[Y/n]…I don’t know anymore. I signed up to fight the frontlines and to fight for the cause and to serve my country, but not…like this. Not as a monkey. I wanted to be soldier, one that didn’t wear tights and brought ten percent discounts on bonds to every state I visited.

Two hundred men were captured in the place we’re at now. It’s…the 107th, from what Peggy’s told me (you remember the letter about Peggy I hope). Or rather what’s left of the of 107th. I went rushing to find him. But…[Y/n]…he was one of the two hundred men who were captured…

I swear to you, to our friendship that I’m going to make sure that jerk makes it back home. We’re both going to come back to you. I..I plan on going to the camp he and the other man are being held (at least where we think they’re being held). There’s really no easy – “

“[Y/n]! Doll! You comin’out to the east tent?” Mary’s voice called from the opening. You hummed out a confirmation as your fingers danced along the worn-out edges of the letter. It wasn’t the last letter you’d receive; you knew there were at least a couple more waiting in your mail slot, but it was the last one you received before leaving Brooklyn. The one that pushed into seeking out the Army Nurse Corps.

You folded the letter carefully, as if it would shatter to pieces with one rough touch. Gently you placed the letter in the front left breast pocket of your jacket as you grabbed your canteen from under the pillow.

As you looked over your shoulder to the opening, you noticed that Mary was not alone. Betty with the red curls was on her left and Nancy with the short black hair on right. You smiled softly at them as you pushed yourself up from the cot, your hand patted against the breast pocket of your jacket to reassure yourself of the letter.

“Whose providin’?” you laughed quietly as you walked over to them, pushing yourself out of the entrance. Nancy laughs as she and Mary held up canteens, Betty pointing at your canteen with a playful smile. You couldn’t help the large grin that crossed your face as you followed them towards the east tent.

Nurses sat around on the makeshift beds of the east tent, quiet chatter of the one large conversation. There were women who were still in uniform for the night shift, awaiting the emergencies or the cries of those who’d wake in pain, not knowing where they were nor what happened or why they were missing a limb or just in so much pain.

The other nurses sat in their night gowns, canteens lifted to their lips as they laughed at small thing was said. You sat yourself next to one of the nurses in uniform, Helen. She was small girl with a big heart. When it was time between just the nurses, Helen was the sweetest and most positive young girl you had ever met, but when she was in the field, she completely changed to a strong and fierce young woman. You couldn’t help but admire her as she reminded you of home.

“Alright ladies,” Ruth, a shit-eating grin on her face. You smiled at Helen as she rolled her eyes. Ruth, one of the head nurses that worked in the between the field hospital and a hospital that was a couple miles down in the nearest town, began the rundown of night’s tales. It was a bit hard to understand, but you just played along.

It was an hour and two swigs later that Helen looked at you with a soft face. “[Y/n], please don’t mind me intruding on your life back home, but what’s your life in New York like?”

You looked down at the canteen in your hand before your eyes roamed to spot Nancy, Mary and Betty. You shot soft smiles at them before you skimmed the rest of the tent. Your eyes landed back on a Helen, her green eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of excitement. You bit back a small laugh and shook your head as you looked back down at the canteen cradled in your hands.

“I’d be out every day with my best boys, Steve and Bucky,” you smiled widely. “Steve would always be out, squeezing himself into trouble while Buck and I would find him and get him out of said trouble. We’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember. Bucky and I always, always, as kids, tried to play off that Stevie was my brother that been dropped so many times on the head,” you laughed.

Helen looked at you with an amused smile, her eyes gleaming. “You and this Bucky together?”

Heat flushed through your cheeks as you shook your head, a nervous smile played onto your lips. Your lips parted as you prepared to explain to Helen what happened the day that Bucky declared to Steve and you that he would leave for that next day, just when loud screams echoed through the dark night.

All sound in the tent stopped, seconds passed by as the nurses waited for any other sound. More screams, not just from one person as it sounded, echoed through the forest’s air. All women rushed out of the tent, lamps in hands as they ran to the tents that hosted the recovering. You were behind with Helen, a lamp in your hand. The both of you began followed the rest of the crowd until a shriek from the woods captured your attention.

“Help! Help me!” a brutal scream called out. Helen stared at you with wide eyes, her face showed that she was wondering if the two of you should go into the depth of the trees on your own. The same brutal scream echoed from the woods a few seconds later.

“Go get others, I’ll find the source,” you called out as you began running towards the line of the trees.

“[Y/n]! Don’t! Don’t be stupid!” Helen screamed.

“Just go!” you screamed back, pushing tree branches away from your body, your ears listening for the screams. Leaves crunched under your feet as the screams got closer. If Bucky was here, he’d say that now I’m acting like Steve, you thought to yourself.

You refused to call out to the victim. “I’m pulling a Steve,” you muttered to yourself as you no longer heard the screams. Carefully and slowly, you turned in a complete circle. You gave it a few seconds before walking back in the direction of the field hospital when a sharp pain went through your left leg. You gasped as you feel forward onto your hands and knees.

The lamp broke as it crashed into the ground. Dry leaves count on fire around you. The pain in your leg increased, which caused you to cry out and fall onto your stomach. Tears filled your eyes as you made yourself look through the fire.

Several figures were walking towards you slowly. They’re uniforms similar to the Germans, except for the black leather gloves, red lining, the masks and helmets, and red emblem on the shoulder. It appeared to be a red skull with tentacles. You looked up at the men’s faces, your eyes narrowed from both pain and trying to see through the heat.

“Hail Hydra,” were the last the words you heard as everything went black.

-

Loud beeping hazily echoed through the room along with screams. Pain ran up your left leg and into your chest.

A gasp escaped your mouth as your eyes shot open, your arms pushing against the restraints. The skin around your wrists were rubbed raw. Your eyes frantically scanned the room.

The metal room itself was rusty from what you could tell. Few feet away from where you were, there was a table. On it sat a folder and a book. There was no chair, no pens, no pencils, no other indication that someone has recently been present. Above the desk was a single light bulb, the only one shining brighter than the rest of the lights strung among the ceiling.

There was nothing within the room except the metal surgical table you were strapped to. An IV line with blue liquid was streaming into your left arm. You could the liquid pulsing through your veins, pants of short breaths left your mouth. You clenched your eyes shut as locks of the door whirred and sounded loudly.

“Good morning, soldier,” a thick Russian called out. You gulped as you opened your eyes, taking the sight of a man in uniform standing before the desk, two other soldiers behind him. The heart monitor beeped faster as you watched him open the folder. “Good morning, soldier,” he repeated, this time louder than before.

“I-I’m not a soldier,” you croaked. “I’m just a –“

“You were a nurse. Yes, forty-seven years ago.” Your eyes widen. Your jaw dropped as tears formed. Forty-seven years ago. You were out on the field 1944. How was it 1991? 1991. Steve. Bucky. Your eyes moved to the IV of blue fluid running into your arm, tears falling down your cheeks.

“What did you do me?” you asked quietly.  He did not speak, he only approached the table. Your eyes stayed on the IV line, the bag slowly emptying. You glanced at him when he shouted something to the soldiers in Russian, your eyes followed them as they rushed out of the door.

“What did you do to me?!” you screamed, your chest and back arching off the table. Your hands rubbed against the restraints, the raw and exposed skin aching and burning. “Why me?!” you cried, continuing to thrash against the restraints.

“Doesn’t matter, soldier.”

“Stop calling me that!” you screamed. A rough hand gripped your chin. Your mouth was squished into a small “o,” your eyes frantically searched the man’s face. His eyes narrowed as he scanned your face.

“You will no longer speak back, soldat.” He gave one last lingering squeeze before he released your chin. You glared at him, your fists clenched. Footsteps echoed through the room as a doctor came towards the bag of blue fluid. You watched as he toyed with the bag and noticed the bag was almost empty.

“What is that?” you asked as the room around you had begun to spin. The doctor took down notes before he headed towards the man. “What are you putting –“  your world went dark once you saw his fist come down.

-

“готовы соблюдать,” the man’s deep voice echoed through the room. Whirring filled the room and you stood up straight, the five others stepping up in your lead. You all lined up watched as the man stood from the chair, his hair draped over his face.

“Soldat,” the man called out. All six of you stood at the position of attention and kept your eyes on the man they called the Winter Soldier.

The soldier’s body posture straightened out, his hair pushed back and exposed his face. Your face remained the same, jaw clenched, and eyes trained on him. Your mind screamed his name, but you knew that to survive, you needed to play along. Maybe he’d recognize you. He had to.

The Winter Soldier’s body turned towards the six of you and you inhaled deeply at the sight of his steel blue eyes. They were lethal, they were stone cold with no emotion. They weren’t Bucky’s eyes.

готовы соблюдать - ready to comply

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