The Winter Wraith (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 42 - Glass Prison

His blood coated her hands. Her face. Her hair. Her tears muddled with the red splattered there, forming a crimson river down her cheeks. Her hands shook as she frantically ripped through the snow, picking up Lenkov's scattered remains and trying to hold them together, trying to bring him back. His blood coated her chest. Her arms. Her legs. Bucky watched in horror as she struggled between the urges to sob and throw up, heaves wracking her body. She brought her hand to her mouth as the latter seemed to win. Paused. His blood coated her chin. Her mouth. Her tongue.
"Status update. Our end is clear, how's the outside world?" Nat's question fell on deaf ears, no one responding on the intercoms.

"What's going on?" Steve's voice now, concerned, and in person as they emerged from the belly of the bunker. And immediately froze at the scene before them.

"Прости, прости, прости... ты будешь в порядке... просто проснись. Пожалуйста. Пожалуйста, не оставляй меня. Мне очень жаль." (I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry... you'll be okay... just wake up. Please. Please don't leave me. I'm so sorry.) She was a muttering mess, and Bucky had no idea what to do. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to tell her it would all be okay, even if it was all a lie. But he didn't. Because she didn't know him, and he didn't know what to do.

She seemed entirely unaware of her audience, as they stood on in silence. It was only the click of a gun that interrupted, all eyes bar her own immediately locking onto the source. Hoffman was a blank slate as he levelled the gun at Y/n. Y/n slowly lifted her defeated gaze to the man with her life in his hands, and it was then that Bucky realised she wasn't going to move.
Then the bullet was in the air and Bucky's heart was in his throat. Scarlet encompassed the shot but even Wanda couldn't react fast enough, she just managed to move the bullet bare inches. It wasn't much, but it would do.

The shot wasn't fatal, hitting just beneath Y/n's collarbone, sending her to the snow which bloomed bright red under her, her blood mixing with Lenkov's.

In the same moment someone had shot Hoffman. As the man dropped to the ground, a man in a black coat appeared from behind, the look of rage on his face like none Bucky had ever seen. Nick Fury lowered the gun, assessing the display before him. He must have been dropped on the field when they went silent on the comms. A withering glare met each of them in turn, and Bucky knew Fury would make their lives hell for at least the next few months. If not years.

Fury turned, striding towards the helicopter now lowering for him. The mission was over. They were successful, yet no one felt like winners.

~

She faded in and out of consciousness, trapped in a restless slumber, pulled between the Quinjet's blinding fluorescents and the sweet abyss behind closed eyes. Bucky refused to let her out of his sight as he sat a few feet away, eyes never leaving her limp form.

Only the medics dared venture closer, bribed by the generous pay this adventure would bring them. His fists clenched as he took in the manacles around her arms and legs, her injury making them refrain from another metal band across her neck. It was horrible but necessary – even half-conscious she was a threat, and the medics were not allowed to approach her unless their safety was secure.

Thankfully, she was too out of it to even notice
Bucky left only once, to get a mandatory post mission medical check of his own. Every second the clock ticked he grew more impatient; he was fine, and he wanted to be there when Y/n woke up.

He was about to tell the woman waving some instruments around that he really wasn't injured when every gaze snapped to the cacophony of shouts erupting from the far end of the plane. In a sudden fit of lucidity, Y/n was pulling against the restraints, heedless of the way they dug into her skin. Her head whipped from side to side, body thrashing like a wild animal in a cage. "если ты прикоснешься ко мне, я убью вас. я убью бля тебя." (If you touch me, I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you.) Her voice was ragged, rage barely disguising the pure desperation and anger keeping her going.