Mosaic (Bucky Barnes X OC / Winter Soldier x OC)

Chapter 14: Bucky Barnes - Frozen Cows (Part I)

Author's Note:

I'm always trying to improve my ability to pull a person into a character's headspace or feel their emotions, and your feedback will help me know if what I'm trying for is working or not. Even an emoticon or button smashing tells me something useful and can influence what I write more or less of.

I respond to all comments and it's always fun to hear your thoughts ^^

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Previously:

The light bathing the little car reminded me too much of the helicopter. Gaining on us. Fast.

My grip tightened on the revolver. Heart pounding at my ears.

We're going to have to fight our way out... and I doubt both of us would make it out of this.

"We're going to get out of this," Valeriy assured lightly, eyes glancing at the mirror.

Shoot driver between the eyes. Targets incapacitated.

I leaned out the window, drawing the Glock 21 and lowering my aim to one of the tires.

At a flash of light, the car slowed.

"Brace your –!!"

Before I could squeeze the trigger, a loud crunch hit my ears.

The momentum forcefully shifted into a swing. A blow to my left knocked me back into the seat. As pain bloomed across the skin on the side of my face, the car spun out of control.

With another jerk of momentum, everything stopped.

.

.

.

All at once, reality came crashing down with a panicked gasp for air.

'Injuries: negligent.

'Body: functional.

'Obje –...?

'Where...? Where am I? There was... there was a...?

'...Hydra.'

Still in the car. Not with Hydra. Strapped in place by the seatbelt.

'They don't have me. Okay. Goo – Valeriy.'

Still in the seat next to me. Slumped against the dashboard.

'...Valeriy...?'

Not a movement to her. Not even a twitch to her fingers.

'No.... Please don't be –'

I reached for her. Needed to find a pulse. Anything to tell me she's here. Alive.

A bullet weaved right between my fingers. Far too close to Valeriy. Nicked the scarf around her neck before burying itself into the driver seat.

Instinctively, my hand reached for the dart revolver. Eyes scanning the environments for targets.

We were surrounded. Four bodies lit up by the street lights effectively hiding their bright headlights from the helicopter. Three mostly hidden by their car.

When the revolver wasn't found, I hated how naturally I went to another weapon. COP .357. A far deadlier option.

A man in a black suit held the still smoking M&P. "Hands up. Get out of the car," he ordered. "Keep your hands where I can see them."