Collection of One-Shots

》orders

"Bucky! Please don't do this Bucky." She cried aloud as the cold metal barrel of the .45 pistol pressed into her stomach, his arm wrapped around her delicate throat, threatening the air supply that kept her alive. He had no sense of identity, and she didn't either, that was until she remembered, and fought off the control that Hydra had over her mind and memories. 

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, each intake of air beginning to burn her lungs more than the last. "Don't do this Bucky, you can fight it. Fight them, just like I did." His jaw clenched, strands of his unkempt brown hair blew in front of his determined face. He was hesitating, and she knew that, if it had been any other mission the target would have been dead now, killed by a ghost that helped shape the century.

She too just as he had fallen into the hands of Hydra, manipulated and forced to see their views, she lived her life waiting for the next mission, and that was all that mattered, completing the mission. It was a freak accident, somehow they both managed to bond over something that seemed so familiar yet could never be named for certain, and then she fought, determined, and feral until control was hers again.

Her petite but experienced hands gripped onto his wrist, digging nails into the skin the was exposed from under the sleeve if his uniform, the metal arm securely holding the gun, finger on the trigger.

"I repeat, carry out the mission, and return to base." The voices in his earpiece were loud, and the noises of their surroundings were not nearly loud enough to drown out the command; but all Bucky could do was stand there, torn, confused, helpless. But he had a mission, didn't he? And he lived to complete his mission.

"I can't do it...I can't do it." He mumbled under his breath breaking her blue-eyed gaze. She forced a small smile, the grip he had on her throat slowly releasing until her feet hit the ground once more, where she could do nothing but slump against him, but the barrel of the gun was still firmly pressed into her stomach.

"That is an order, carry through or we will perform system overrides." Slowly air refilled her lungs, the skin already beginning to discolor in distinct fingerprints. And then everything happened so quickly, the alert like beeping noise that came from within the control panel of his metallic arm, to the firing of the gun. Once. Twice. It happened entirely too fast but at the same time, everything slowed. Her eyes grew wide, there wasn't any pain at first, just shock. The pain came later, when she fell back to the asphalt, clutching at the blooming stain of red that was forming over her stomach, staining the light blue shirt.

And then Bucky was on his knees beside her, his face void of emotion as he stared helplessly down at the only person who had tried to save him. She reached for his hand and he didn't resist, squeezing tightly, the first human contact that was friendly in its gesture that he could remember. Her back jolted up off the pavement as she coughed, her own blood choking her, black spots forming at the corner of her vision. What she saw was Bucky Barnes at her side, mutilated and manipulated to become the Winter Soldier, but not pulling away, not leaving her to die like someone who was just a mission, but he was acting almost like a friend.

Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, lips stained red, skin cold and pale. So this is how it ends. With a small smile, she squeezed his hand as hard as she could manage.

"I believe in you Bucky." Were her last words, sincere in meaning, a single tear fell from her eye and her grip on his hand slackened away to nothing, falling limp to the hard surface of the ground.

"Return to base for your next assignment."