Red
You know how there’s certain moments in your life you can pinpoint and say, ‘ah, this is when it all went to shit’?
Well, Bucky is living through the damn moment as you read.
It had started out innocently enough… or well, as innocent as an illegal underground arms deal can possibly be. So not very innocent at all. But it had started out easier, Bucky would say. The buyers had walked in—four security guards, one man leading the way, and a woman on his arm—taken stock of Brekker and begin negotiations. Everything was going to plan.
Until Steve had chimed in.
“Y/n isn’t that the woman—”
“—in green from the Gala, who was ogling you?” Y/n finished from Steve. “Yeah, that’s her.”
She and Bucky had made their way to the mezzanine, keeping themselves far enough back to not be seen from the ground floor.
Bucky could spot Brekker sitting atop an old table with, what must have looked like, a sheet metal machine next to him. He looked calm as ever in his dark grey suit. And Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if he owned any other type of clothing at all.
“Your bid at the Gala was quite substantial Mr. Brekker,” the man commented in an even tone. His German accent still lingered in the ‘r’s he spoke.
“Well, I do fancy myself quite the substantial man,” Brekker replied easily.
While the man in front of him didn’t say a word, Bucky could notice the woman next to him shake her head with fondness.
“You were told to come alone, were you not?” The man asked.
The question was a trap in itself. But Brekker seemed unfazed by it, “You don’t make it to your late thirties in this business if you walk into a gunfight without at least a few aces up your sleeve, Mr…?”
“There is no need for you to know my name,” the man answered.
“Now, that doesn’t seem all that fair considering you know mine,” Brekker countered.
“You don’t make it to your late thirties in this business by being fair, either,” the man replied.
Wow, did someone just out-snide Brekker?
“Fair enough,” Brekker snarked back. Ah, and there goes Bucky’s hope of watching Brekker’s smile falter. “Shall we get down to business then?” Brekker asked, clapping his hands together.
The man motioned for his men to bring in a crate. They positioned it on the table Brekker was sitting on, opening it to let him survey its contents. Brekker got onto his feet and gave it the once over. Once he seemed pleased enough, he looked back up at the pair and nodded.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Steve stated over the comms.
“It’s an arms deal, you should have a bad feeling,” Sam threw back. “Also, did you just quote ‘Star Wars’?”
“They appear satisfactory,” Brekker commented. “So the rest of my shipment—”
“All in good time, Malcolm,” suddenly the woman spoke up.
“I’m with Rogers on this one, something’s wrong,” Y/n noted from next to him. She seemed agitated and that should’ve been Bucky’s first hint that none of this was going to have a good fucking ending.
“I need something from you first,” the lady said, taking a few steps over to Brekker.
“For a beauty such as yourself, I am happy to provide whatever you need,” Brekker remarked. “For the right price, of course.” Bucky could hear the smile on his face.
The woman however just laughed. “So I am hoping,”
“What is it you’re looking for?” Brekker asked.
“A judgment of character,” the woman replied.
“Can I ask whom we are meant to be judging?”
“You.”
And that ticked Y/n off. She instantly got up to her feet from where they had been kneeling and began walking over back to the room where she had been keeping watch.
“Y/n?” Bucky called out in a hushed tone, following her.
“Whatever for?” Bucky heard Brekker over the comms.
“I want to know if you can be bought.” the woman said.
Now, with that Y/n was peeved. He could notice the instant shift in her demeanor. Not necessarily because he was used to the change, but because he was characteristically not used to it. No matter the situation, Y/n never lost her armored calm. It was her defense. But there she was, on edge. And that should’ve been Bucky’s second hint.
“Okay, now even I think something’s fishy,” Sam commented.
“Torres, what’s happening out there?” Y/n asked, entering the room with the window.
Meanwhile, Brekker replied to the woman, “I’m afraid you’ll have to specify.”
There was no response from Torres. And that should have been Bucky’s third hint. That should’ve been the moment when sirens started going off in his head telling him that nothing good was going to come out of this.
“Torres?” She asked again.
The woman continued, “Can you be bought back to our side—”
“Torres?” Sam called out.
Y/n leaned out the window, and whatever she saw sent her running back to the mezzanine, right past Bucky. He ran over to the window to see himself, and fuck him. They were screwed.
They were screwed and they were surrounded. And they were so fucking screwed.
“—or have you decided to align yourself against The Orphanage?” The woman asked.
Bucky ran back, catching up to Y/n. Only to see her pull out her gun, ready to jump into action.
“Bollocks,” Brekker commented, and for once Bucky could hear his voice tremble in what seemed like fear. “Who are you?”
“The clean-up crew,” the woman answered simply.
And with that, everything descended into chaos.
“Malcolm!” was all the warning Y/n gave out. And then she began shooting at the woman, who looked back at her with a snide smile before taking cover.
“What the fuck was that?” Sam asked.
“We’re surrounded,” Bucky replied. “I counted forty, but there’s definitely more.”
The moment he finished the sentence, people in armored gear began falling in from the gate. The skylight broke above them. Men rappelled from the top, bringing the rain down with them. Laying down a hail of bullets as they descended
Bucky pulled Y/n to his chest, shielding both of them with his vibrainum arm.
“That seems like overkill,” Steve commented. His breathing was labored, Bucky could tell he was up and running.
Y/n got herself out of Bucky’s arms. Pulling out her grappling gun, she looked at Bucky and said, “Sorry Cap. The mission objective just changed. We get Malcolm out of here. NOW!”
She jumped off.
So now here he was, making his way through an army of men and a rain of bullets to save Malcolm Brekker, of all people.
He had followed behind Y/n, jumping down without a second thought. He wasn’t willing to let her get out of his sight. Now he was uppercutting a man while another punched him relentlessly in the gut. These men were trained well enough to annoy the crap out of Bucky.
“Y/n, can you please let us in on what the hell is going on?” Sam asks, grunting.
“Why are we protecting Malcolm all of a sudden?” Steve asks.
He could spot Y/n fighting three men at once, who were charging at Brekker probably. While the man himself had a gun in his hand that he was using to beat another man’s head in with.
The fucker can fight, too?
“I’ll explain later. But he is the target,” Y/n answers, huffing as she back kicks a man in the throat.
Bucky has to physically make himself look away. Because watching her fight was always too entrancing for him. She moves on instinct with nothing but single-minded purpose. It’s pretty enough to be considered a dance form.
“Someone better go check on Torres out there,” Bucky suggests as he brings his elbow down onto a man’s face while using his vibranium hand behind his head to pull him in. He blocks two punches with the same hand, pulling his knives from his belt and throwing them at another assailant charging at him from ahead. Then he turns around to pick up the first man over his shoulder and ramming him into the wall behind.
“On it,” Sam answers and Bucky can hear the sound of his wings flapping open and thrusters being burned as he takes flight.
“Y/n,” Brekker calls out. “If I die here, so help me God, I will be so very pissed at you.”
“Shut up, Mal!” Y/n shouts back.
“Don’t tell me to shut up! There’s people shooting at me!” Brekker shouts just as loud.
“They’re shooting at all of us, you’re not special.” Y/n scolds.
Bucky’s punching his way through seven men, when he sees Brekker balk at her in disbelief, “You just said I was the target!” Brekker blocks a punch with his bicep, pulling the gun out of the man’s holster, he turns back and shoots another.
“Can you two shut up?” Sam chides. “Torres is unconscious, but he’s fine. Took him out to stop him from warning us… But we do have a problem, they busted up the engine. The jet won’t power on.”
“This has to be a setup,” Steve theorizes. “Too much firepower for a simple ambush of some low-level arms dealer.”
“Seeing as you’re all doing such a plentiful job of protecting me, I’m willing to let that one slide,” Brekker retorts.
Bucky can’t believe the man still has maintained artful snide despite being the target of a full-scale attack. But then again, should he really be surprised?
“Yeah about that,” Y/n chimes in.
And suddenly Bucky realizes why she’s on edge. She knows something none of them do. Not just intuition, but a key piece of information that seems to be missing from everyone else’s repertoire.
“This isn’t about the damn weapons, is it?” Bucky asks, already knowing the answer. He knees a man in the chest while punching another with his vibranium arm. “That was just bait… To lure us in.”
Y/n runs over to him, using his shoulder as support, she swings herself around, kicking a man in the face, while shooting another behind them. Bucky instantaneously catches her in his arms. As their eyes meet she says, “Well, I think it might just have been to lure Mal in. We were… freebies.”
A gunshot rings out from behind them, the bullet passing by the small gap between the couple. A man in front of them drops and when they turn their heads, they are met with an annoyed Brekker. “I’m quite a sucker for romance, I admit. But I do prefer the idea of staying alive,” he states as he turns around and continues shooting men down. “Can we move the fuck along please?”
As they continue their defense, he, Y/n, and Brekker take a short reprieve in a corner behind a few towering old machines.
“Y/n—” Brekker tries. He’s kneeling on one knee. He’s still firing away at whoever he can find between the gaps in front of him, same as Bucky is.
“I know. I know,” she says, cutting him off. “But I’ll get you out. I promise.” There’s a softness in her words that Bucky didn’t really see coming. Unlike the both of them, she’s not looking back at the hoard of men covering their only escape. She is leaning back against the machine, her eyes falling shut as if she’s thinking. “I’ll get you out,” she says almost to herself.
“We gotta get out of here, man,” Sam comments from somewhere above them. Bucky can spot him flying outside, from the windows, clearing their path to the exit.
“We need an exit plan,” Steve states.
Before anyone can come up with an answer, their short reprieve is broken, by Y/n screaming while pushing Bucky out of the way.
The sound pierces through his ear just like the thunderclap.
He lands on both his knees but she falls to the ground, next to him.
When he turns his head back, he spots the woman from before standing atop the second-floor mezzanine with a sniper pointed at them. He aims his gun, cocks it, and shoots right at her. But she can obviously see him coming and dodges with ample time for the bullet to only graze her. Her face contorts in annoyance as she begins to get away. Bucky wants nothing more than to follow but he stops in his tracks when he hears Y/n cough behind him.
The world has gone silent, Bucky realizes. The world is not making a goddamn sound. And he’d rip it all down if it dared. All he wants to hear is her.
He rushes over to her side. Brekker’s hands are on her but he can’t let anyone touch her. Despite Brekker’s protests, he pulls her out of his grasp, bringing her to his own arms. The vibranium arm is behind her, supporting her shoulders, while the other is placed just below, at the end of her shoulder blade. He needs to make sure she’s safe. Make sure she’s okay. He’s gotta—
“James?” Her voice is rough but small when she speaks out. Her breathing is heavy. Her jaw is clenched.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” He brings out his flesh arm to cup her face but stops midway when it comes out soaked in red.
His eyes must be bulging out of his face while the color drains out of it cause Y/n just laughs. “I think I might have gotten shot.” The laugh soon turns into a coughing fit.
He hushes her, gently.
His mind isn’t functioning that well cause all he can think of is the red of her blood. The red on his hand.
He wishes he could joke around too. But she’s bleeding out in his arms.
She’s bleeding out in his arms.
Red.
“It’s okay, baby. It’ll be okay.” He’s not sure if he’s consoling her or himself. He places her back against a machine and begins to assess the damage, putting pressure on the wound. It’s a clean exit. She’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.
“It’s not that simple, James,” she comments, and then he realizes he’s talking out loud.
Red.
Before he can say something, there’s another hail of bullets from their left.
“Y/n’s down,” Brekker says into the comms, taking cover.
“How bad?” Steve asks, and Bucky can sense a similar fear in his voice as his own.
Brekker hesitates.
It squelches; this red.
“Brekker, how bad?” Sam reiterates.
“The bullet punctured her lung,” Brekker replies. “It doesn’t look goo—”
“She’s gonna be fine,” Bucky cuts him off. He picks her up in his arms despite her protests. “We’re getting out of here, and she’s gonna be fine.”
It’s sticky; this red.
“James—” she tries at the same time as Brekker does, “Sergeant—”
“We’re getting out of here,” Bucky reiterates and his tone leaves no room to argue.
He and Brekker fall out of the corner and begin moving towards the exit. He can spot Steve a couple feet to their left fighting his way through four men. When he spots them, he makes quick work of the men at hand to run ahead and begin clearing a path for them.
Bucky’s almost useless with her in his arms but he will not fucking drop her. She’s coming with him. Come heaven or hell, Bucky will not let her go.
He can even smell it; this red.
But then she begins coughing. “James, you gotta put me down,” she pleads. Her voice is frail. He hates it. But he does as she says. She sits down, leaning back on a column while Bucky and Brekker cover for her.
“Sam, we need an exit plan, right now,” Bucky growls.
“Bucky—” Sam is promptly cut off.
“We have an exit plan,” Y/n chokes out. When Bucky looks back at her, she’s pulling her suit apart, taking off her gloves. If he could think of anything but red, he’d be curious as to why. “James and Steve can run their way out of this mess without an issue—”
“Y/n—,” Steve begins to protest over the comms but she doesn’t budge.
“—Sam, you take Mal and Torres out. Don’t stop flying till you reach a safe house. Don’t use one of Malcolm’s,” she says as she’s using a knife to cut off her sleeves. “They could be compromised. Call Harley he’ll give you access to one of mine.”
“And what about you?” Bucky asks, already afraid of the answer.
It’s on her hands too now; this red.
She gets up on her feet, using the column as support and she looks at him and smiles. “I’ll steal the show, obviously.” She pushes herself off the column to stand up straight. “I’ll buy you losers some time.”
“Absolutely not!” Bucky exclaims at the same time as Steve shouts out, “No!” and Sam barks out a harsh, “Hell nah.” If Bucky could get his mind to calm down, he’d realize Brekker doesn’t speak up.
He takes a few steps to face her, “I’m not leaving here without you.”
Red.
“You can’t leave here with me,” she tries to reason.
Bucky doesn’t wanna hear it. “Y/n now is really not the time to be stubborn.”
She shoots someone behind him as she says, “I should say that you. I will only slow you guys down and we need a distraction—”
“You’re not a fucking distraction Y/n!”
Red.
She sighs heavily, and puts her hand on his face, cupping it gently. “I’m sorry Jamie,” she says softly. Her eyes flick to somewhere over his shoulder, presumably to Brekker. “I really am,” she adds and places a small peck on his lips. His eyes fall shut at the sensation.
But before he can cherish it, the touch is gone. And when he opens his eyes, there’s a light emitting from her hands, flickering blue, pink, white, and black. There’s a buzzing noise in the air, like static. And then slowly the lights engulf her whole.
She glitches away.
The moment Bucky’s brain catches up with his eyes, he tries to rush over but suddenly Brekker is holding him back.
“We have to go,” Brekker states.
Red.
“Y/n! Come back here, right now!” Bucky shouts out, trying to break out of Brekker’s grasp, which should be easier considering he’s only human.
“I can’t, sunshine,” she says over comms. Her breathing is labored, but her words are kind. Her feed cuts and crackles before she adds, “Steve, get him out of here.”
“I’m not fucking leaving you behind!” Steve argues.
“You fucking owe me this, Steve!” Y/n shouts back. “You owe me this little courtesy. Get. Him. Out.”
Within the minute, Steve is on him, pulling him to the exit, opposite direction of where she is. He knows he’s arguing with him but he can’t hear the sound of his own voice. He knows he’s pleading, he’s begging but Steve doesn’t let him go.
It’ll stain; this red.
“Y/n—” he hears Sam chime in over the comms.
“Get Mal out of here, Sam,” she commands, her voice sounds broken but her tone remains firm. Until she adds, “Please.” And then it breaks.
The last thing Bucky sees as he’s being dragged out by Steve howling and screaming are random flashes of pink, blue, black, and white all around the factory, spasming from one place to another. She won’t go down without a fight. She’ll take everyone last one of them down with her, he knows. That’s the last thing he sees; Y/n raising hell. That, and the red that doesn’t seem to want to leave his head. It’s taken over all his thoughts, this red. All except one.
I didn’t say it back.