The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

109

Y/n was seething with anger.

The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him feel as if he was a bomb ready to explode. He felt so, so conflicted. Half of his mind was screaming at him to turn around and kill Rumlow, whilst the other half was full of guilt and regret for letting his emotions get the best of him. The kill would've been so easy, so smooth. But he didn't do it. He didn't pull the trigger. And because of that Rumlow had free rein to tease him. In his eyes, y/n was weak, impulsive, and emotional. The exact traits that he had sworn not to show him. He was supposed to be his killer, not the guy that jumped when he yelled. What was wrong with him? Y/n was known by Hydra for his countless kills, and now he was fumbling over a damn trigger. He wasn't even sure if he should be upset about it or not. At least it showed that he wasn't a Hydra soldier anymore, but it also made him feel as if he was weak. As if he didn't deserve to be on the team.

Rumlow had called him 'bubba'. Of all of the nicknames he could've chosen, he chose the one that struck a nerve. He must've known what he was doing. But how? How did Rumlow know to call him that? It didn't make sense. Y/n didn't know what he looked like until the mission today, so there was no way he would've known about that nickname. But, coincidence or not, that nickname was full of horrible memories. Memories that could never be buried. He could hear the man in the suit's voice in his head. His unnervingly calm tone, the gloved hand that used to wipe his tears away, and his relaxed smile. Everything. It all came rushing back to him, and it just made the frustration build even more.

Bubba. That word made his blood boil.

Y/n dragged his hands through his hair in frustration, resting them atop his head. His face was caked in sweat, blood, and dirt - and the mission wasn't even over yet. He huffed out a heavy breath, his lungs burning from the desire to scream. But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't just scream. Y/n had already made a fool of himself by failing to kill Rumlow, he couldn't have a temper tantrum too. Once the mission was over, he could scream and shout as much as he wanted. But not now. His boots stomped against the uneven ground as he weaved through the rubble, trying to find Wanda in all of the chaos. He needed to let his anger out. Everything was just building and building and building, he was surprised it hadn't bubbled over yet. Y/n laughed angrily at the fact that he needed to let his anger out, hitting his forehead with the edge of his palm a few times. He was stupid. He could've let his anger out by killing Rumlow. But no, he decided to let Steve talk him out of it.

The only hope that he had was the fact that he was walking toward the battle. Maybe he could go fight some of Rumlow's team with Wanda. That would help. Bashing people's head in and blasting people into next week was always a fun thing. (Only with bad guys, of course.)

But, that spark of hope was stamped out as quickly as it appeared.

Wanda was still busy keeping the poisonous gas contained in the air. Many members of Rumlow's team were attacking her as she did so, leaving Wanda to struggle to keep the gas contained. Her eyes lit up at the sight of y/n making his way toward her, letting out a breath of relief. "Y/n! Quick, help me contain the gas!" She called out over the gunshots. Wanda had heard everything that had just gone down over the earpiece, but she didn't mention it to y/n. She didn't want to make it worse. Well, she didn't want to make it worse on purpose. Wanda had decided to give y/n the job of containing the gas, seeming as if it was the easiest job there. Plus, she knew that the team needed her help. Y/n wasn't in a good enough state to be running around fighting, so Wanda thought that she was doing him a favour by giving him the easy job.

Of course that was not how y/n took it. This was the worst job someone could've given him. There were so many reasons why, but three seemed to stand out the most. One: Y/n was on his own and separated from the rest of the team. Two: Containing gas wasn't going to get any of his anger out. It was a boring job. A job with no blood, no destruction, nothing. And finally, the third and most important reason: Y/n was mimicking super soldier strength to stay numb from the pain, and now here he was, needing to mimic a different power.

He was going to be alone and vulnerable. Frustrated and ready to snap at any moment. His earpiece barely worked, so there was no way he could communicate with the team without yelling. All he could do was sit and listen to them fight whilst he contained a stupid cloud of gas.

Y/n understood that it was an important job, he really did, but it wasn't the job he wanted. Y/n wanted to fight. He needed to fight. He needed to get some of his anger out before he snapped. Y/n didn't want to hide behind a pillar and contain a cloud of gas. He was going to be left with nothing but his thoughts. The same thoughts that he'd been avoiding for the past two days, the thoughts that were inevitably going to be worse after what had just happened. This wasn't what he wanted. Nothing in this mission had gone to plan, everything just seemed to be getting worse and worse by the second.

This was going to be hell.