025. calm me down

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FOR WHAT COULD have been a couple of minutes, or an hour, or a few hours, I was in utter shock. My throat had gone dry, my ears rang with the blood pumping in my veins, and my hands shook in disbelief. 

Steve. He was alive. And better yet, he was here. That old guy had rallied the troops, and he was here. I could hardly believe it. Bucky was going to see his best friend again, and everything was going to be okay. He was here to get us out of this goddamn place.

Another scream echoed through the corridor, getting closer to the heavy door that blocked our escape route. "Tell me!" A woman, presumably the owner of the banshee-like scream, shouted. "Where  did you take them, you dirty bastard!"

I exhaled a shaky breath as I recognized the fire in her voice. "Cara," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Holy fuck, it's Cara." Swiveling my head to look at Bucky, I half expected him to be standing, readying himself for one more fight. 

But all I saw was his curtain of brown hair falling into his eyes as he sat on his cot, tense with the overwhelming noise. "Steve," he kept chanting, getting louder and closer to normal volume with each repetition. It was a trigger word, I guessed, to keep him from the darkness of Cerberus' latch on his mind. 

"That's right," I reassured him, though it was hard to keep the urgency out of my mind. "Steve's gonna get us out of here." My tentative hand was bold this time, reaching out to gently brush his flesh arm. 

He pulled away, though, still not warming to my touch. "I..." he breathed, almost like a sigh. "I...I don't know you."

The tears of joy that came at the prospect of being rescued were quickly shifting to tears of hopelessness and despair as I realized that while he looked at me, he didn't see me.

He still didn't know me. I was a stranger to him. 

But there was no time to dwell on that fact, as the door to our cell swung open, banging into the wall. In the doorway stood a visibly fuming Cara Jansen. In her right hand she held a gun, and in the other...well, it was a strange sight to say the least.

I was momentarily frozen as I took in the whole image: she was gripping the thumb of a man very tightly in her hand, presumably holding it up to be allowed access into the room. But the thumb was still attached to its owner, who dragged across the ground. Dead or alive, I had no clue. And I didn't particularly want to find out, either. 

Before I knew it, my new friend had dropped the man in the doorway and was taking leaps for steps to get to me. I opened my arms, gasping for breath through my tears, but she never got to reach me—

She grunted as she received a punch in the gut from the tall, muscular man that had darted to stand in front of me, his unused hand spread from his side like a shield. 

"What the hell, Bucky?" Cara wheezed as she caught her breath. "This is how you greet an old friend?"

I peered around his bulky body to spot her and grimaced. "He's not himself yet, Cara. Be gentle." I could feel him tense with my proximity, as if finally realizing his actions.

The brunette stood up, still breathing heavily. Darting a glance to the door and seeing a new Cerberus guard, she whipped up her gun and downed him in one shot. "I thought," she huffed, "I thought you'd have slept with him by now. You know, after you were supposed to seduce him into remembering you again."

I glared at her, though it lost most of its gumption because of the furious blush on my cheeks. "Oh, that's what I was supposed to do, is it?"

She nodded, stalking back to the doorway to stand guard. "Yeah. Sam and Steve even made a bet about it."

My jaw slackened. "I'm gonna have to have a talk with them about placing bets on my relationships," I mumbled to myself. With my attention turning back to the man in front of me, I remembered that my relationship wasn't quite a relationship anymore. 

salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬  ,  𝟐Where stories live. Discover now