The ghosts we hide (Winter Soldier x OC)

Five

Bucky POV

Her amber eyes meet mine with a look of Shock and absolute horror.

Memories flood my mind in a gushing wave, crashing through my brain and dousing every neurone with arctic water.

I see her, much younger, running next to me on a rooftop, a look of molten determination on her face. Then again in a training room as we spar, her cheeks red with effort. Millions of images flash across my eyes until one sticks. Her on the ground, beaten and bloody with the same look of terror and abhor that swims in her gaze right now.

I clench my jaw, fighting to rid myself of the picture.

We're both frozen in place, neither moving. She clutches her arm tightly, the shoulder deformed in obvious dislocation. We seem to breath as one, mouths agape, torsos heaving.

She recovers first.

"You're supposed to be dead." She manages, though the effort is obvious.

And suddenly she is running, dodging past Steve and leaping over the railing. There's a scraping sound as I dart forwards, just quick enough to see her sliding down the wall using her uninjured arm, 5 inch talons protruding from her hand embedded into the metal.

By the time I think to point my gun at her she's on the ground and through a doorway, shouting into her ear piece.

I stare at the ground long after she disappears, listening to my heart thunder.

Eventually I turn around to face Steve, swiftly breaking the chain between his cuffs with his shield then handing it back to him.

He looks at me for a second, a million questions on his face, before he shakes his head, a strong hand clapping me on the back.

"Lets go home." He murmurs, starting towards the door.

I spare one last glance at the torn metal of the wall, the deep claw marks stark against its otherwise smooth surface, then turn and follow my friend.

*****

Reclining in the metal chair, I shuffle around, trying to get comfy and ignore the feeling of four pairs of eyes on me.

"So you didn't think to mention before that you knew her?" Tony asks, frustration evident in his already sarcastic voice. He sits at the head of the table, furthest from me, his arms folded across his chest.

I meet his glare with my own, a scowl tugging at my features.

"I didn't know that I knew her." I mutter, crossing my arms.

"Oh, 'you didn't know you knew her', even though you saw her picture."

"She looked mildly familiar." I shrug, keeping a tight hold on my growing irritation.

Stark leans his head back and lets out a laugh. "And you didn't think it was worth mentioning?"

"I didn't recognise her immediately."

"How do you not recognise someone?"

Rage blossoms through my body and go I to get up, fists ready to make contact with Stark's face. Before I can though, a strong hand grips my shoulder and I turn to glance at Steve. He shakes his head, eyes serious.