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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With that, I dived into the river below too, the water murky, and I swam around the floating pieces of the helicopter which had splintered off.
Holding my breath, my body pushing against the current, I found Steve first, and brought him up to land before submerging myself again.
Racing against the clock knowing Bucky's air supply was running low I vehemently broke through the cockpits remaining windows. Using a propeller wing I smashed my way through, and saw that Bucky was knocked out. The side of his head bloody from the impact.
Grabbing hold of him I heaved myself back up to the surface of the river, and gasped for air.
Sliding Bucky up onto land as well I dragged myself out of the water too.
I rested my head against Bucky's chest, and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. He was breathing, and with that I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
Still panting, and out of breath I shook Steve awake.
"Come on, wake up!" I shouted, my lungs, and body worn out. "Steve! I'm not going to give you mouth to mouth, you know."
That did it, and with a cough the blonde Avenger sat up.
"Okay, here's the deal. 1, you two are extremely heavy. And, 2, we gotta get the hell out of here."
"You pulled both of us out?" Steve asked, dumbfounded.
I just glared over at my friend, still out of breath, completely drenched from head to toe.
"Well, who else could it of been? Now, come on. You carry James, though. I'm certainly not going to attempt to."
We reunited with Sam, and he found us a place to hide.
Within an old dilapidated warehouse we were out of harms way, but close enough to know that there was a manhunt for us occurring.
Sam, and Steve carried Bucky in, and put his metal arm in a vice to ensure he couldn't either attack us, or flee.
And, there we waited for Bucky to wake up, the search helicopters scanning all over Berlin for us, and every once in awhile we could hear the stomp of combat boots as the German Special Units made their rounds.
I had taken off my wet leather jacket, and just wore my tank top. My arm needing to be looked at.
I pulled out my mini first aid kit, and started to pull out each shard of glass that had embedded itself into my skin with a pair of tweezers.
And, with each tug, and with each piece I pulled out I winced. The wounds that ran down my arm from when I was thrown into a window oozing blood, the red liquid staining my jeans, and shirt.
"Hey, how you doing?" I heard Steve ask as he walked over, taking a seat down onto a wooden crate beside me.
"Fine." I said, pouring the bottle of distilled water down my arm for sterilization.
"You carry a first aid kit with you?" Steve teased, and I melded together some of the deeper gouges with adhesive tape since I didn't have the materials to do stitches on myself.
"Yeah, well I was a nurse. I was taught to always be prepared."
I was about to finish up by wrapping a bandage around everything, but Steve stopped me, and started to do it himself.
As carefully as he could he rolled the gauze around my arm, helping me.
"Is this how you do it?"
I smiled, handing him a few safety pins to secure it.
"Yes, thank you."
Once he was finished wrapping up my arm I stood back up, and Steve also helped me put back on my jacket.
"Will you be okay, Becky?"
I nodded, stifling a laugh.
"You stopped a helicopter, Steve. A helicopter."
"Yeah, I guess I did." The Captain noted, trying not to sound too cocky, and I just lightly punched his arm.
"You know, I still do miss the days when I'd have to reach things on the top shelf for you."
Steve grinned at me just before Sam ran over to us.
