You were his wife in the 40's through thick and thin, sickness and health, richer or poorer, and through all of the twists of life. Even 70 years later you continued to love him, and stay by his side.
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Soullessly, as if he were a zombie, a puppet on a string with Alexander the puppet-master, Bucky charged at me.
Whipping out a handgun I shot at him, the golden bullets ricocheting off his arm with a "pang!" before tumbling to the concrete like pennies.
He slammed me directly into the wooden crates that held old cargo, his metal fist punching my stomach, sending me catapulting back, breaking a couple of the wooden boxes along with me.
The wind was knocked out of me, my lungs trembling at the sudden lack of air, and I coughed up blood.
"Shit, that metal arm is a real bitch. Arnim Zola continues to be an annoying bastard even now." I said, standing back up, and engaging myself in a full on combat fight with Bucky.
Us both reflecting each others blows, and clashing with one another before I pushed him against the sheet rock wall.
Restraining him, I saw an open electrical box beside me. Black cables spilling out of it, and with my other hand I tugged on one, ramming the live wire into Bucky's metal arm. Sending a wave of voltage within it, the electricity flaring up, and sparking, his bionic arm malfunctioning.
While Bucky was temporarily detained I used my grappling hook to get onto the second floor, onto the rusting grated platform.
Catching my breath for a moment, a moment I knew full well wouldn't last. I wiped the string of blood that was dripping down my chin.
Then I scanned my surroundings, setting up multiple potential plans in my head, mapping out several ideas, but then I heard the "thud" of him climbing up the rafters before jumping down onto the platform by me.
I flung myself over to the exposed wooden boards which joined with the rest of the joists in an attempt to create space between us, but then I felt him grip onto my ankle, launching me back down onto the corroded platform.
With the front of my body pressed up against the grates he straddled me, and twisted my arm behind my back.
With my face pressed against the rust I screamed in pure agony as he continued to curve my shoulder, the same shoulder that he had previously injured before, in a way that the joint shouldn't even be able to do.
Hearing a blatant crack in my shoulder blade, the muscles inside ripping apart I kept on shrieking like a helpless animal, Bucky not stopping.
Rolling to my side I kicked him off me, and just when he regained his balance on the wooden beams I threw a dagger at the corner brackets, causing all of the lumber joists to crash to the ground, Bucky included.
With my right arm dangling limply at my side, me not being able to use it anymore I watched the wreck below before the glass of the roof suddenly broke, a man with a shield leaping in.
"Hey, Becky. I thought you might need help." Steve proclaimed, landing on the grated platform beside me.
"Yeah, well you're late," I deadpanned, probably killing his "hero", "save the day" moment. "That Pierce guy said some stupid Russian words to James, triggering him completely out of control, and now his sole mission is to kill me."
"Okay, I'll handle this. You just get to the hospital." Steve reported, his porcelain facial features stern, tight with fret over my basically nothing, but dead weight right arm.
"No, you have to smack some sense into James, I'll handle Pierce."
"But-"
"No, buts!" I interrupted before jumping onto one of the hanging light fixtures, sliding down the chain before landing on the cement floor.
Steve went off to fight Bucky, who had gotten out of the mound of wooden boards I had fallen on top of him while I caught up to the double-dealing HYDRA leader.
He was trying to flee the scene, and escape with a clean slate, unaffected by the disorder, and heartbreak that he had fabricated, something I wasn't going to allow.
I shot at the motion sensors near the exit, busting the system, and causing the steel doors to slam back shut before Alexander had a chance to retreat.
He swirled back around, and I heaved my elbow against his throat, shoving him against the factories wall.
"Apparently your option three didn't work out too well. What's your next plan?"
"Fight." Alexander replied, launching a knife into my side right below my ribcage.
I listened to the sound of my flesh tearing apart, and grimaced, but I put the barrel of my gun to his head anyway. The blade embedded into my muscle tissue not going to cause me to back down, nor my useless right arm that was ripped out of it's socket.
Pierce smirked, the cold metal of my pistol pressed firmly against his temple.
"I didn't turn him into the monster he is, you know."
I bit my lip, blood seeping out of the wound, staining my S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform with red.
"I don't care. You still furthered the legacy of hurting my husband."
"Hail HYDRA." Alexander saluted before I fired, killing him immediately by blowing a hole through his head.
I gripped onto the knife, and ripped it out of my side, more blood gushing out instantly, but I couldn't black out yet.
Holding onto my wound with my left hand, my right arm limply at my side I walked over to where Steve had trapped Bucky, his metal arm stuck between two pillars.
"Becky... We have to get you medical attention now. You could die-" Steve decreed, going to lend me a hand, but I just shook my head, collapsing to the ground beside Bucky.
He was reemerging from his possessed, controlled state. His face bloodied, body beaten up, but mind finally free. He looked guilty of course, looking at me with such despair that it hurt to look into his eyes, but still. His eyes were clearer now, less consumed by brainwashing.
"Which James am I talking to?" I asked, desperation in my tone as I choked out my words, my vision subsiding, but I had to hear his answer.
Like a starving man needing food, or like man needing shelter his reply would either be like oxygen, or poison.
With his flesh hand Bucky caressed my cheek, his brow creased with shame, his countenance laced with affliction, and remorse.
"I took you on a picnic to the New York Bay for our first date, and you ended up falling into the Hudson River. I jumped in, and saved you because you couldn't swim. A skill I taught you how to do immediately afterwards because it terrified me too much to imagine you drowning. When I told your old man that I was going to propose to you he said to me that if I didn't make you happy that he'd kill me. A promise I didn't live up to..."
I smiled, the blood from my wound pouring down my leg.
"You made me happy, James, still do." I murmured before passing out, his familiar chest the pillow in which my head fell onto.
