Edelweiss || Bucky x Reader

Chapter Eleven

I drop from the fence, landing with the slightest thud. And then reality slaps me across the face.

What am I doing?

What in the ever loving fuck am I doing?

I have no idea where to go. Who to shoot. If it comes down to it, I don't know if I'll be able to pull the trigger at all. My hands shake holding the gun and my steps are unsure. I should be exhausted, but the amount of adrenaline running through me could wake a dead man. My breathing is uneven while I look for a way in. I get to the edge of the building, pressing my back to the cold brick, listening for anyone on the other side. After a brutally anxious moment, I hear nothing and decided to turn the corner. The moment my back leaves the wall, however, "Heil Hydra!" is shouted no more than three feet from where I stand.

My finger flies to the trigger of my gun and my other hand to my mouth as I fall back onto the wall. I want to scream. Cry. I just escaped death by a millisecond, and I'm not even in the building yet. I can't do this, I can't-

Remember why you're here.

Instantly, I have clarity. I take a breath and pick up what's left of my courage. He needs me. That's the only thing that will ever matter. If he dies, I need to know there isn't something more I could have done.

I'm here because I'm in love with him.

Stupid in love with him.

It took a war to realize it, but that's what it is. Plain and simple. And I'll tell him when I get him out of here.

Another breath. And then I turn the corner.

Not a soul. Whoever had shouted is gone.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck..." I say to myself as I move as quickly and quietly to the door, not wasting a second. I put my back against the wall again, gun raised, and look through the window in the door.

Clear.

And then I'm in. With little help, I've broken into a secure hydra building. Despite everything, that feels pretty good. Until I hear organized marching from a hallway near me coming my direction. Panicking as they get closer I frantically look for a place to hide. My only option is a door on my right, behind which is a mystery to me.

With seconds to spare, I duck into the room, hoping, praying, for a broom closet.

It is not a broom closet.

Instead, I'm greeted by an almost empty meeting room, apart from a single hydra soldier seated at a large oval table.

"Identifizieren sie sich." He says, hand on his radio. If I had to guess, I think he was asking for identification, which I obviously don't have. I take a running jump onto the table, using my momentum to collide my foot with his jaw. While he's disoriented, I duck behind him and put him in a chokehold— a move Bucky taught me. At the exact moment I hear the soldiers go by the man goes limp in my arms. I slowly lay him on the floor as to not make a sound, and then walk out of the room shaking. Another death avoided.

I go up the hallway and turn to walk from where the soldiers had come from, only to be met by a short man wearing large glasses and a lab coat, two armed guards on either side of him.

I stumble backward reaching for my gun and hit something hard— someone's chest. One arm wraps itself around my neck while the other holds a cloth to my face. I'm out in seconds.

...

I wake up feeling violently sick. There's a bright light shining directly in my face, blinding my already sensitive eyes. I try to move, but my hands and feet are tied to the arms and legs of the chair I'm sitting in. While I can't see the room very well, I make out at least two other people.

"Good morning, fräulein." Says one of the men in a thick German accent. "I had begun to think you'd never wake."

The man turns to face me and I immediately recognize him as Johann Schmidt, the head of Hydra himself.

"I must admit, I am impressed. You managed to incapacitate one of my men, single-handedly. You could become a very valuable soldier, given time..." He says, running his pointer finger along my jaw and up to my chin, tilting my head up. I feel a new kind of rage ignites inside of me. I make sure we're making eye contact before spitting in his face. He recoils in disgust and wipes it off. Removing his hand from my cheek, he uses it to backhand me across the face. There's so much power behind his slap that it's practically inhuman. My lip has split and blood is trickling down my chin. But I start talking.

"Untie me and I'll show you exactly what I can do to your ugly mug, you son of a bitch." I spit at him, pure hatred in my voice. This earns me another slap. My cut opens wider, and my head hangs to the side.

He grabs my chin, forcing me to look at up him. "I'll be back in..." He looks up at the clock. "30 minutes. You will spend that time with my friend here." He motions to the guard. "Maybe then we can have a civilized conversation."

I stare into his dead eyes as I slowly annunciate the words, "Go. To. Hell."

He shrugs.

"Have it your way, fräulein." He says, walking out of the room.

The door clicks behind him, and the guard steps into my line of vision. He's tall and strong, everything you'd expect a soldier to be. I'm sure he's obedient and passionate and loyal, too. Not unlike a dog. But just behind those eyes is a burning rage, skillfully hidden, but not quite well enough. He is a man who has known so much suffering, much of it at his own hands.

"Shame." He says. "Such a pretty girl."

I scoff and spit out the blood that had gathered in my mouth. "Do your worst."

He chuckles.

"I plan to."