Chapter 1
A beautiful woman was sitting at a picnic table in the park, a bright smile lighting up her face. Her little girl was on the swings with an equally bright grin. She’d gotten the day off of work and decided it was the perfect opportunity for some quality time with (Y/N).
“Mommy, mommy, look!” The girl cheered, her legs swinging to pump her swing higher and higher into the air. Her mom smiled proudly, pushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear and glancing at her cell phone for a moment.
“Be careful, sweetheart. You already hurt yourself once today, we don’t want you doing it again.” She warned. The child disregarded the statement all together. She was on cloud nine. Her mother was there with her, and she was flying.
It was an accident. She hadn’t meant to swing so high, and she hadn’t meant to slip off the seat, but she had tempted fate, and she’d lost her grip on the rope holding the swing. She fell backwards and hit the ground with a wail. Her back had collided first, and her head had bounced hard enough to make her see stars. Her side ached, she couldn’t breathe.
“(Y/N)!” Her mother called, rushing to kneel at the girl’s side. Her warm hand swept across the child’s face, pushing her hair out of the way. Her hand came back wet with blood. “Stay with me, (Y/N), okay?” She cooed, doing her best to stay calm. But the child was struggling to keep her eyes open, slowly falling unconscious in her mom’s arms. Her mother whipped out her phone.
“This is agent (Y/L/N). I need medics at my location. Pronto."
“Парк...Восемь...Сгореть...Семнадцать...Сломана...Гавань...Открыть...Отказ...Отказ...Делить…” The Hydra agent listed out several words in Russian. It was followed by a long, tense silence from all of the other agents and scientists in the room. At the middle of the room sat a chair, big and metal and with contraptions attached to it. A young girl, no older than 21, sat in it, entirely motionless. It nearly looked as if she’d fallen asleep.
“Доброе утро, soldat.” The man spoke once again. He was tall with close cropped dark hair and even darker eyes. Truth be told, he would’ve been handsome were it not for the cold, cruel twinkle in his eyes.
The woman lifted her head slowly. There was no emotion behind her glazed over eyes. She didn’t look at anyone or anything, just stared into space as she answered.
“Я готов отвечать.” The words came out robotically, like she had no idea she was speaking at all.
“We have a mission for you.” The man dropped a file into her lap. She picked it up, flicking through it and finally seeming to come to life. She remained cold, but it was clear she had been waiting for activation. Now her muscles were tensed like she’d pounce any moment. It covered two people, a married couple. The man was an engineer who had turned down offers from Shield twice. The woman was a biochemist who had made several advancements in her field.
“Kill the targets. Leave no witnesses.” The Hydra agent paced back and forth in front of her until she finished with the file and passed it back. She gave a barely noticeable nod in response. Then she was guided out of the room by a team of handlers, guns pointed at her from every angle like she was a wild animal too dangerous to leave on her own. Then again, maybe she was.
She didn’t know just how long had passed, but she had been loaded into a plane with a handful of Hydra agents. She sat quietly and obediently in her seat, just looking out the window. She didn’t pay any mind to how long had passed. She wasn’t expected to. Soon enough they had landed. Her motorcycle was unloaded and she was weighed down with weapons. Rifles, knives, pistols, even grenades. She was given her orders once more.
Track down and terminate the targets. Leave no witnesses. Return to that very spot. She had 7 hours.
She set off, riding dangerously through the crowded streets, weaving through and disregarding the safety of anyone else. Most everyone stayed out of her way. Anyone with any sense would know to stay out of the way of a crazed woman on a motorcycle with an assault rifle strapped to her back. She rode to the edge of town. She could see the beach in the distance as she stopped to wait for the cover of night.
She was right out in the open, but nobody dared to bother her. She was cloaked in all black with a heavy mask obscuring the majority of her face. What wasn’t hidden by the mask was hidden behind loose hair. She had her rifle strapped to her back, one pistol in a holster on her belt, two more in her thigh holster and several throwing knives strapped to the other. She didn’t care an inch about blending in.
Once the sun was setting, the soldier started up her bike again, driving down a winding road. It was a nice, upper class neighborhood. Sprawling, artificial green lawns dotted with pristine, towering houses. She came to a stop at the end of the street. A house much more modest than the others sat at the end of a long driveway.
She took her time in examining her surroundings. The house was only three stories as opposed to the four and five level mansions she had passed on her way in. There was no pool or expensive garden. It looked less like a show of wealth and more like a real home. Its grounds were big enough that she was tucked well out of sight of the other houses in the area. She spotted five cameras from the front of the property. She slipped off her bike, pulling one of the pistols from her holster. Five flawless shots, and the cameras were out of order.
The lights in the house were already off aside from one room on the third floor. Targets located. It was almost too easy. She confidently walked towards the security system box, lifting her gun and shooting it twice. That should suffice. Her hands tugged at one of the windows and she felt the lock snap easily under her strength. She didn’t waste any time climbing through the window. Her heavy black boots landed on the hardwood floor with deadly silence.
She scanned the room silently before heading for the stairs. The first flight was passed without so much as a creak. She’d nearly made it all the way to the third floor when she stopped in her tracks. (Y/E/C) eyes slowly lowered to where her foot was half hovering over the next step. Under the sole of her shoe was a powder-pink stuffed elephant. She couldn’t place what had urged her to do it, but the assassin bent to pick up the toy. It was strange for her, holding something so soft and fragile knowing that within moments those hands will have killed once again. So she carefully propped it up against the step and continued on.
At the very top of the stairs, she marched towards the room where the light was seeping from. She readied her gun, but was stopped once more by the sound of a giggle. One much too small, much too innocent. Then came voices.
“Another story, daddy!” A tiny voice pleaded. Then came another.
“Just one more. Then we’ll go to sleep! We promise!” The second voice sounded older, but hardly old enough. The woman’s stomach twisted and she faltered, lowering her weapon.
(Y/N), don’t do this. A voice cut through her head. She whipped around, her gun lifted and ready to shoot down whoever had managed to sneak up on her. But the voice was most certainly coming from inside her head. Panic was settling in her chest now, a feeling she wasn’t used to. You can’t finish this mission, (Y/N). They’re just babies…
She squeezed her eyes shut. This was her mission. She had to finish this, she never failed a mission before. She had to take out her targets.
“No witnesses.” The voice of the Hydra agent broke through her thoughts. Her entire body felt weak as she stepped towards the doorway. Her targets, a couple barely in their early 30s, were nestled on a too-small bed. They had two young girls tucked against them. The oldest was maybe 9 in a blue nightgown, the other about 6 wore a pair of paw print pajamas. And worst of all, cradled in the father’s arms was an infant.
The winter soldier scrambled back, pressing her body to the wall and desperately trying to even her breathing. What was happening? There was no record of children in the files. Did they expect her to slaughter helpless kids? Or was she supposed to leave them without parents to take care of them? Every one of her senses had been dialed up all the way to 12. The lights were blinding her, the sound of blood rushing through her forced her to clutch her head.
It was late at night. The young girl had been sound asleep in the back of the car. The radio was playing the classic rock station that her mother loved so much, and her father was quiet behind the steering wheel. It was a warm summer night, just after 11pm. The sky was a bluish shade of black with stars twinkling as clear as day. She’d fallen asleep trying to match the constellations to the ones in her book.
They had been on vacation. A nice little beach house out of the way of the crowds. Her room had looked out over the water. Her mom had taught her how to use the camera, her dad had been trying to teach her how to surf. They were meant to stay the whole week, but it was cut short when her parents were urgently called into work. But the girl didn’t mind. That was normal really. Every vacation she’d ever been on ended that way. This time they’d managed to stay a whole four days. That was enough to make her happy, really.
It was the sound of glass shattering and a scream that drew her out of her sleep. Then came another loud sound, a gunshot. Her father cried out her mother’s name and the car screeched to a halt. Now she was paying attention. Her eyes were wide and startled, and her heart pounded in her chest.
“(Y/N), get out of here.” Her dad twisted and pressed a cell phone into her hand with a panicked look on his face that made her feel like she was going to be sick. “Run. Run as fast as you can and don’t stop until you find someplace to hide. Fury will come and find you.” He wasn’t ordering her, just begging her to trust in him. Then there was another shot and he slumped as far as he could with his seatbelt still holding him. There was a bullet wound in his head.
She screamed, scrambling to get out of the car, to get away from everything she’d just seen. She clutched the phone like the lifeline it was and ran full tilt. She needed out. Her legs trembled underneath her, barely holding herself up and giving out at times, but she kept going. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d fallen, but her hands were scraped up and bleeding. Her lungs were burning. Finally, she collapsed to her knees, clenching her hands into fists so she could focus on something. She couldn’t help herself, she peeked over her shoulder. The car was barely visible now, but she watched as it went up in flames with her parents inside.
Bucky was falling in love with Wakanda. At first, he’d been terrified. Terrified to be so alone in a foreign place, terrified that they wouldn’t be able to fix his brain, terrified that he’d ruin such a beautiful paradise. But T’Challa had insisted that he was in the best hands, and the young princess was positive that she’d have him fixed in no time.
“If anyone can figure out how to help you, it is me and my people.” She had said. Bucky wasn’t so sure.
Now, things seemed to be looking up. Shuri had kept her word. They’d managed to clear the trigger words from his brain. That meant there shouldn’t be any way he’d sink back into Hydra’s robotic weapon again. The murderer he once was had been destroyed. He still felt like a threat, but the people of Wakanda trusted fully in their royals. As long as T’Challa and Shuri trusted him, the people would too. He still did what he could to avoid them. He preferred staying in his new home by himself. He’d read or cook or write. Shuri had recommended he start a journal to help with the trauma. He thought the idea was pointless, but it gave him something to do.
His nights were often long, filled with restlessness or nightmares. This one was no different. He woke up drenched in sweat. He couldn’t recall exactly what had happened in his dream, but the familiar weight of guilt in his chest was enough to tell him he’d been stuck reliving one of his crimes.
He climbed out of his bed and dressed himself. They’d provided him with plenty of options, letting him choose whether he’d prefer to dress in his usual style or blend in more with the Wakandans who had so kindly taken him in. He tended to choose the latter.
It was early morning, not quite 6am yet. The sun was still down, but he ventured out into the cool morning air anyways. Some people were already out, tending to gardens or animals. For the most part, they paid him no mind, as did he to them. He had so much on his mind that needed working out. He could usually talk it out with Steve, but they hadn’t talked in a couple days. The last he’d heard, Steve and Sam were tracking a lead on some of the last known Hydra bases.
It was no real surprise to anyone when Bucky made his way to Shuri’s lab. She had become a sort of comfort in hard times for him. He didn’t really expect her to be working at that god-forsaken hour of the morning. If anything he’d expected to try and get more sleep until she came along. But when the doors opened, he found her hunched over her latest project. Considering how tired she looked, Bucky wasn’t sure she had gotten any more sleep than he had.
“Bucky,” She greeted with a smile. She’d only just taken to calling him by his first name. “You look tired. Sit, talk.” She nodded towards the chair that she always left open for his visits. She reminded him so much of his little sister the way she bossed him and worried about him even if she refused to admit it. But he didn’t argue, just sat down and watched for a moment while she continued her work.
“I keep having these nightmares. They were getting better for a while. But now it’s like they send me back there, doing it all over again but I can’t figure out how to control myself, I can’t stop it.” He confessed with a groan. His hand rubbed over his face and pushed to card through his hair. The princess gave him a soft smile. She knew he was angry with himself for everything he’d done.
“It was not your fault.” She said after a long, heavy moment of silence between them. “You were not in control of yourself.” He simply nodded. He’d heard it a million times before, but it still wasn’t setting in.
“I remember it all. Every single mission they sent me on. It’s all stuck in my head.” He confessed. She hesitated, and he wondered if she was trying to think up a way to erase the memories. She’d expected that he’d remember, warned him that it would probably be crystal clear, but she hadn’t thought too much about how it would weigh on him. “I’m a monster. You don’t know the half of what I’ve done, kid.” He looked down at his hand in his lap. He hated thinking about all of the pain he’d caused. He’d always intended to be the good guy. That’s the entire reason he’d enlisted. People needed protecting, and instead he’d slaughtered innocent people.
“You are not that soldier anymore, Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri rested her hand on his bicep. “You are a good man who was forced to do very bad things.”
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t tear these innocent children’s worlds apart. She couldn’t kill them. They were just babies. Her hands were trembling so hard she had to put her gun away just to keep from dropping it. They hadn’t even noticed her yet, there was still time to back out.
She had to run.
The thought made her sick to her stomach. She was a soldier, an assassin. This was what she was created to do. Her handlers would be so angry when they caught her. And they would definitely catch her eventually. They had eyes and ears everywhere. There was nobody she could trust. She clutched her head and dragged her hands through her hair. What was she doing? She was given a mission, she was useless if she couldn’t even follow orders. She’d be punished for her insubordination.
She had to run.
She turned on her heel and raced silently down the stairs. She spared the stuffed elephant half a glance on her way out. At the window, she climbed back out, nudging it shut as if that would fix the fact that she’d broken in in the first place. She had to steady herself for a moment before getting on her bike and riding back the way she’d come.
She had no idea where she was. She had no idea where she was going. The only thing she knew for sure was that there was no turning back now.