The Kind You Save → Bucky Barnes / Winter Soldier

Chapter Thirteen- Going Rogue

Chapter Thirteen

Warning: Graphic and bloody!

When Malone awoke, she was in someones arms. "James?" she muttered sleepily. She looked up, dread grew in her gut. This wasn't James, it was Steve. "Steve? Where's James? What's going on?" Mal demanded.

Steve tightened his hold on her, grimacing, "You don't remember?" Malone's forehead creased as she strained her memory. Suddenly, she gasped, "You have to go after him! Hydra, they took him!" Steve shook his head sadly, "They've already had a twelve hour head start, Mal. They're gone."

Malone pushed herself out of his arms, "No, I'm not going to accept that." Her pale hand flitted to her lips, rubbing them self-consciously. Had she imagined the kiss? Her hand fell from her lips, it didn't matter if she hallucinated it, she needed to find him.

"Where are we?" she asked. Steve answered, "On the Helicarrier." "Then take me to the armory," Mal commanded. Steve looked at her strangely, and with a surge of anger she realized he didn't take her seriously. "Steve, I don't care if you try to stop me. I swear to God, I will find him." He sighed, "I know, Malone."

At the armory, Malone picked her weapons carefully. She had two long, curved daggers hanging from her hips, throwing knives were secured to her thighs, and widow bites were wound around her wrists. Steve watched silently as she became more weapon than human. The usual gleam of humor in her eyes was gone, instead her eyes glinted with predatory hunger. It occurred to Steve that she was personally trained by the best assassin in the world. She looked absolutely lethal.

"Take me to Natasha," Malone said, her voice flat. Steve led her to the control room, where the red-headed woman sat. Malone rested her hand on the hilt of one of the daggers, "Where would they take him?" Natasha shrugged, "Somewhere."

Malone's face twisted, "Tell me, now." Natasha looked at Steve, who nodded assent. "Their closest fortress is in Canada. It's outside of Montreal, you won't miss it." Steve held up his hands, "Listen Malone, you can't tackle this alone. We'll all leave tomorrow, okay?"

Mal's shoulders tensed, "Alright." Steve relaxed, but Natasha kept her eyes fixed on Malone. "I'm, uh, gonna go rest," Malone lied. Steve nodded, walking with her. She opened the door to her room, "Steve?" "Yeah?" he answered. Her back was turned to him, and she made no move to turn. "I'm sorry," Malone closed the door quietly.

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At midnight, Malone opened her door. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way to the back of the helicarrier. She opened the outside door and a cool breeze from outside caressed her face. Mal stepped out onto the tarmac, when a voice stopped her.

"I knew you'd go," Natasha stated. Malone turned to see her leaning against the wall. "Are you going to stop me?" she asked warily. Natasha shrugged, "Maybe. It depends. Do you love him?" When Malone didn't answer, she laughed. "You can't afford to love anyone in this game, I hope you know that."

Malone glared at Natasha, but she wasn't fazed. "It makes you weak. You can go after him if you want, but if you die..." Nat paused, "I won't loose any sleep." Malone walked to her, sticking out her hand, "Let's leave on good terms then." Natasha shook her hand, "Good luck, Malone."

Mal turned and walked towards a quinjet, ignoring the swirling emotions inside of her. She climbed aboard the jet, strapping herself in. She looked down at the controls, realizing one huge problem with her plan. "Stupid!" She groaned, of course her training had not included flying. "Computer?" she asked hesitantly. "It's J.A.R.V.I.S, actually. How may I help you?" a voice stated. "Take me to Montreal. Please?" she asked awkwardly. To her surprise, the jet fired up and lifted from the tarmac.