behind blue eyes [bucky barnes]

thirtyfive

"Destroyer of worlds and collector of souls."

Song: Destroyer of Worlds by Coyote Kid

. . . . .

Round after round.

Clip after clip.

Bullet after bullet.

Maria shot dozens and dozens of targets, replacing one after another in a continuous cycle. Each one of them had what looked to be a single bullet that went through them - her aim impeccable. The forehead of each target had been blown to pieces with precision accuracy. She shot. And shot. And shot. And shot.

Maria kept going until she couldn't feel her hands and then pushed on. She had been doing so for hours upon hours. She shot through her screams of frustration. She shot through her cries of fear.

Maria had never gone to sleep - she couldn't. Bucky had tried to get her to once her father and Steve had been made aware of what happened. All three of them attempted to get her to go and rest until morning, but Maria wasn't able to close her eyes even for a second without reliving the entire altercation. Not that being awake was much better. So many people had so many questions - none of which she had the answer to. The entire team had been gathered, which had made things even worse. Halfway through the meeting Maria had bolted as her anxiety had gotten out of control.

That's what led her to the shooting range.

She wasn't really sure who she was more mad at - Grant for somehow breaking through FRIDAY's security or herself for not shooting him point blank when she had the chance. Instead she let him get away completely unscathed after drugging her and feeling her up. And then he began talking nonsense about things that he shouldn't have known anything about or that didn't make sense to her. It was infuriating. But it was also terrifying to know he could make it past such defenses. She wasn't safe anymore - not like she had so childishly thought she had been.

"Bucky," Maria said as she heard the door open. "I don't want to talk about it. So please don't ask."

"Do I look like Barnes to you?"

Maria stopped shooting, turning over her shoulder to see Sam leaning against the stall she was in.

"What do you want, Sam?"

"I just came to talk, that's all."

"Well, I hope you plan on doing all the talking. I have nothing to say."

"Maria," Sam said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon. You know you need to talk to someone. I'm just here as a friend."

Maria stopped firing, slamming the gun in her hands down on the counter. After ripping her earmuffs off she turned to face him.