Chapter 3
Eventually, (Y/N) had calmed herself down from her little panic attack. She knew she didn’t have time for reckless emotion. She stashed her weapons under the bed, and managed to wash some of the blood out of her clothes. She had even gotten up and taken a shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she had bathed. Not that she remembered much of anything. By the time she stepped out, the water had gone ice cold and she’d nearly scrubbed her skin raw in an attempt to wash away any trace of her past, of the awful things she had done.
She didn’t manage more than a few hours of sleep, mostly just laying awake and listening to the quiet. Her thoughts weren’t so unbearably loud anymore, but they were more consistent than she was used to. They started to get this way after a particularly long mission she thought. It was strange, like her head was full for the first time. Her memories on the other hand, there was hardly anything there apart from the past day or so. Her memories on the other hand were essentially nonexistent beyond the past day or so. Ever since she had been given her mission. Trying to think beyond that just made her head throb.
Come morning, she hauled herself out of bed and smoothed her hair out. Her mostly dry clothes were pulled back on. She kneeled beside the bed and retrieved some of the weapons from underneath it. She had to go out, so going unnoticed was going to be key. Too many weapons and it would be a dead giveaway.
She reloaded her guns, tucking one into the holster at her hip, another was tucked safely into her waistband. She carefully slipped three knives into each of her boots, and strapped her dozen throwing knives into place around her thighs. That would have to do. She slid her room key securely into her pocket and hung the do not disturb sign on the door.
She needed a plan, a proper one. Needed to figure out where the hell she was, get something into her stomach, maybe score some cash if she was lucky. Not that she got lucky very often.
She flipped her hood up and slipped out of her motel room. She kept her head low, her eyes constantly scanning for any sign of danger. As she made it closer to the center of town, the streets grew unreasonably crowded. It had her on edge. Hydra could be hidden anywhere in the massive sea of people.
It was all so strange. Everyone was going about their lives as if the entire world wasn’t shaking and crumbling to the ground around her. (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to go through life completely oblivious to everything awful going on right under her nose. To be one of those girls walking down the street with a boy, just laughing, and flirting, and not worrying about the next time that she would have to fight for her life. She figured it was nice.
Her goals were repeated in her head, a sort of mantra. Anything to keep her focused as she weaved through the crowd. She caught bits of conversations here and there in a language that felt oddly familiar even though she couldn’t make out the words. Her frustration grew more and more. She was never going to get somewhere safe. Maybe she could find a city name, maybe even a map. She just needed a starting point.
Half an hour had passed, and (Y/N) was skittish to say the least. She had never planned to stay out in the open for so long. But between her unfamiliar surroundings and the unexpected crowd, she couldn’t move at a particularly good pace. Eventually, she had followed the current of people to an outdoor market.
She did her best to blend in with the bustling crowd, following the flow from booth to booth. She was a good thief, it had been engraved into her brain right alongside the killing. She had managed to pocket a couple pieces of jerky, an orange. She’d even gotten a wallet, though it was almost entirely empty. She was positive she was in the clear as she slipped a fresh roll into her jacket.
“I’m sorry, honey? You have to pay for that.” A woman’s sweet voice called to (Y/N) through a thick accent. She froze in her tracks, eyes flickering around for the best way out of the situation. She wasn’t thinking straight, she was being greedy. She had enough food. But the warm, familiar scent had been too much for her to resist.
“I’m so sorry,” She dropped her gaze from the middle aged woman who had spotted her. “Please understand, I’m sorry.”
With those words, she turned on her heel and bolted back the way she had come. She ran as quickly as possible through the crowd. There was a bit of a ruckus behind her, shouting and arguing. She could practically feel someone chasing her. Her nerves were on fire, and her instincts were fighting to take over. She had to hold back from shoving people out of her way and simply sprinting full speed. But she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She didn’t dare look back at her pursuer for fear of seeing the familiar face of one of her handlers.
She came skidding to a stop as a firm hand clamped around her arm. Her eyes flashed with unbridled danger, a first warning not to test her. She took a step away from the stranger, twisting away from him like he’d burned her.
“Don’t touch me.” She growled, her body language reminiscent of a cornered animal. Her brain screamed for her to get out at any cost, to just get away from it before things got worse.
“You need to give back what you stole, or pay for it.” The man demanded with a tone dripping with authority that did nothing to ease her fight or flight instinct. She grit her teeth.
Calm down, (Y/N). The voice cut through, but she hardly processed it.
“I can’t do that.” She stated, eyes flicking over faces as the crowd grew around them. Attention was being drawn to her, and that was the very last thing she needed. “Please don’t do this. Just let me go.”
She backed up as far as she could, but the flow of the crowd had ground to a halt. Her (y/e/c) eyes went wide and wild, stormy with terror.
Then his hands were on her again, and the world felt like it was imploding. The air was sucked from her lungs, her body burned like every atom had been dipped into acid. She released an animalistic snarl and her free hand gripped his forearm with such strength she was sure it would leave a bruise in the shape of her hand. She pulled it towards her, using his grip on her for leverage until she felt the bone snap under her enhanced strength. The man screamed in agony, but she didn’t even flinch. She aimed a jab at his ribs without a care for the damage she dealt. As he crumpled to the ground, she stared at her hands. What had she just done?
People had their phones out, all trained on (Y/N). She turned again and pushed her way through the horde of curious strangers. Law enforcement would be on their way, and she feared that those videos would have her dragged kicking and screaming back to her cage. She didn’t know if she was headed towards safety anymore, but she had to run somewhere.
The ride in from Wakanda was unbelievably nice. T’Challa had sent Shuri and a handful of the Dora Milaje with Bucky. The idea was that it would be easier to sneak him into a country where he was a wanted criminal if he was smuggled in by a visiting royal on business. He had no reason to argue.
He’d tried catching up on some sleep, and writing in his journal, but nothing was working. His mind was already preoccupied. Thoughts of the mission were plaguing him, making it virtually impossible to focus on anything else. He was terrified to be in the field again. He hadn’t been put under that sort of pressure since he’d been taken into Wakanda. Something in him worried about being around her, that piece of his past, would trigger something deeper in his mind. If he turned back into that...that killing machine, there was no guarantee that his friends would stand a chance. Everything they had brought down upon themselves would be for nothing. But more than anything, he knew that he needed to try and help. For Steve, of course. And for her.
“We’re here.” One of the Wakandan warriors announced, and Bucky blinked himself back into reality. They’d pulled up to what almost looked like an apartment complex from the outside.He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but that rundown building wasn’t it. Steve had told him that Tony had helped fix up their little compound, but that didn’t seem like it was up to Stark’s standards.
He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to obscure his face, and climbed out of the vehicle they’d all been piled into. He grabbed the two bags he had brought, and Shuri gave him a reassuring smile as if she could read his mind. Who knew, maybe she could.
“Good luck, sergeant. Let us know when you’re ready and we’ll bring you home.” She told him. A smile danced on his lips for a millisecond. Wakanda really had become like his home, and they all had welcomed him like long lost family.
“Thank you.” He nodded a tiny goodbye, and headed for the door. The frosted glass door swung open easily under Bucky’s touch. He stepped inside and jumped a bit at the sound of a chipper female voice.
“Welcome home, Sergeant Barnes. I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y.” She spoke. Stark had definitely helped with this place. “I’ve alerted Captain Rogers of your arrival.”
Bucky stepped a bit farther into the wide open lobby. The inside of the building was nice, much nicer than the outside let on. It was chic, sophisticated. It didn’t feel particularly homey aside from the table that had been set up with various books, papers, and other possessions scattered about it. The walls were a pale blue, matched to a dark grey tile. It reminded him of Stark and nothing of Steve.
Before he bothered analyzing any more of his surroundings, the elevator doors opposite him dinged open. Steve stepped out with a wide smile. He looked different, nothing like the Steve that Bucky was so used to. His hair was longer now, and not nearly as neat. His beard wasn’t shaved off, he’d let it get scruffy, and it suited him. A few strides, and the two men met in the middle of the room. Steve pulled him into a bruising hug that Bucky returned.
“It’s good to have you back, Buck.” Steve stepped back and gave his best friend a firm pat on the shoulder.
“It’s good to be back for a while.” Bucky replied.
“Come on, let me show you around the place.” Steve nodded for Bucky to follow him. He hiked his bags back up onto his shoulder and did just that. Steve showed him the living area complete with a massive tv and every gaming system he’d ever heard of. It even had a pool table. Then he was shown the training gym, the room they’d dedicated to medical treatment, and the kitchen. Steve walked him through the upper floors, pointing out everyone's rooms. Music came from behind Sam’s door. Nat and Wanda were talking on Wanda’s bed when the two men peeked in. Even Clint had his own room in case he came around.
“Mine’s at the end of the hall. We’re the only ones staying up here right now.” Steve announced as they stopped at the room he’d saved for Bucky. “So if you need anything you can always come find me.”
Bucky didn’t miss the worry in his best friend’s voice. He’d gotten awfully good at picking it up recently. He hated it. Hated just how fragile it made him feel. Everyone treated him like he was going to fall apart at any moment. He hoped he wouldn’t treat her that way. Assuming they got to her at all.
“Relax, punk. I’ll be fine.” Steve did relax, even just a little bit. Bucky punched his friend’s arm. “I’m just gonna unpack and settle in. Probably try to catch up on my sleep.”
Steve nodded his approval and promised to wake him up in time to eat. Then, for the first time since he’d woken up that morning, Bucky was alone with his thoughts. He settled his things into his room. He tried to make it feel more like his hut in Wakanda. He put his clothes away, laid his journal and his phone on the stand by his bed. He laid down in the plush bed Tony had provided. But his damned head wouldn’t quiet down.
He knew exactly what she was going through. It was agony. The fear, the emptiness. He wanted to set her free. When he finally escaped their grasp, he had Steve. He didn’t think this girl had anyone, and he would never forgive himself if he let her go through it all by herself. He was the only person who could understand.
(Y/N) was absolutely panicked as she headed back to the safety of her motel room.She hoped that maybe they wouldn’t track her there. It was stupid, immature even. She hadn’t made it halfway back by the time the sea of people began parting for several men in uniforms — she counted five of them. Her heart was racing, her throat was getting tight. Her mind felt cloudy, like every piece of her was fighting against itself.
(Y/N), you need to stay calm. Don’t let them take you over again. The voice pleaded with her. She pressed a hand to her head and took a deep breath. It wasn’t working, she wasn’t calming down. Her brain was going fuzzy around the edges, all of her thoughts trying to turn to static. Stay with me.
“Mom,” (Y/N) whimpered...to herself? To the voice? It was fading into the static, slipping through her fingers. It was so quiet now. It was being taken, and she needed it back, she needed her mommy.
They were closing in now, and she knew she was a goner. Like she was teetering at the edge of a cliff just waiting for the final push. She was waiting for the final push back into the bloodred princess.
“Please get back.” She pleaded desperately with the officers. The voice that came out hardly sounded like her. It sounded like that broken, terrified 17 year old that Hydra had trapped inside herself. She was scared, she could feel her training fighting to take over and mute her emotions. It was do or die, and judging by the guns trained on her, that was a literal statement.
It was a blur as her instincts kicked in. She dodged bullets and landed kicks and punches with the agility only a super soldier was capable of. She took a few hits. Her nose was bleeding, maybe broken. She knocked them down one by one, over and over until they finally stayed down. Once the danger had been subdued, her brain started to clear. She took notice of the searing pain in her left bicep. Her trembling hand pressed to the spot and she groaned softly when her hand came away wet with blood.
Fuck.
The walk back to her motel room took far less time than the walk into town. Turns out that people tended to steer clear of you when you’re covered in blood, brandishing a gun like a madman. She didn’t have a lot of time, she knew that much. She didn’t know who would be coming, but she wanted to get the hell out of dodge before she found out.
She stripped out of her blood soaked clothes and threw them in the tub to wash out. She set to work on her wounds with a calm, experienced hand that she didn’t realize she had. Getting the bullet out and stitching herself up would have to wait. She made herself a tourniquet and bandaged herself up.
Once the bleeding had stopped, she scrubbed the blood from her skin. She wasn’t even sure some of it belonged to her. This was the second time she’d done this in the past 24 hours and it most certainly bothered her. She washed out her clothes and hung them up to dry a little, then ate what was salvageable from her meal. She was so tired, all of her energy was gone. But she knew better than to fall asleep until her body recovered a little. It could be a death sentence. She just needed to stay awake…
Bucky had managed to fall asleep, but the girl found her way into his dreams too. He saw her, beautiful, and powerful, and every bit his equal. He saw her being tortured, watched the scientists break her down to nothing. She screamed for help, screamed for him to save her.
He knew it was only a dream when he woke up, but that didn’t make him feel any better. He replayed the sounds of her screaming, of her begging in his head. He only stopped when F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced that Steve had called him down for dinner in the living area. He took a moment, splashing some water onto his face and tying his hair back. He needed to relax.
He joined the team, in the living area. They were all lounging around, talking and eating bowls of something that smelled exceptional. Steve motioned to the bowl he’d set out for Bucky with his spoon, and he flashed a thankful smile as he sat down.
“Wanda cooked, so you don’t have to worry about getting food poisoning.” Natasha joked. He rolled his eyes playfully and tucked into his food. Everyone talked and joked. It reminded them all of better times. It was comforting really. They seemed to be taking it quite well, Bucky thought, the whole being nationally wanted criminals thing. Eventually, Steve sat his empty bowl aside and stood up.
“I think we should talk business. If we get this mission debriefing out of the way tonight, we can get started first thing tomorrow.” He said. This caught Bucky’s attention. Steve had Tony’s AI pull up a file and project it for everyone to see. It showed a few grainy photos of a woman, the girl that Bucky remembered, but she was all grown up now. She was dressed in dark clothes. In one of them she was totally decked out with weaponry standing at the side of a motorcycle. In another, she was in the middle of a fight with someone who was clearly losing. There was only one that was a clear show of her face, but there was nothing behind her eyes, no emotion evident anywhere.
“This is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Steve went on. Bucky couldn’t look away. “People refer to her as the bloodred princess. We need her. She’s one of Hydra’s best kept secrets, a specially trained assassin completely under their control.”
Bucky could feel all the eyes in the room shift towards him. He had sort of expected it. She was him, and nobody knew for sure what to expect from either of them. But he didn’t look away from the pictures. Her name was (Y/N). He’d never heard it before. She was even more human in his mind than she’d ever been.
“So, wait, we got another Winter Soldier situation?” Sam asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards Bucky. Steve gave a sharp nod.
“Bucky knows what we’re up against. He’s our best chance of getting to her, and she’s our best chance of destroying Hydra forever.” Steve explained as calmly as he could. He was protective, not that any of the others cared that Bucky had joined their fight. Hell, they’d fought a civil war for him.
The debriefing went on. Steve told them where she’d last been spotted and that she may have gone rogue. He ran through their plans, made it very clear that they were going to try and help her. She would be brought back, and if they could get her to cooperate, they’d take her to Shuri and get her fixed up too. Soon enough, they were dismissed, and Bucky was the first to leave for the safe solitude of his room. He had a lot to think about now. They didn’t begin the mission until morning. That gave him the rest of the night to pull himself together And that had just become a great deal more difficult.
“Hey, Sergeant.” A sultry voice called out from behind him, and he turned around to see Natasha with a friendly smile. “You have a second?”
He nodded, leaning against the doorway to his room. She leaned herself against the wall across from him and simply looked at him for a second, her eyes examining his face.
“You seemed sort of uncomfortable back there. I didn’t know if that was about (Y/N) or Hydra or…” She trailed off as if giving him an opportunity to answer her. He didn’t take it, so she kept talking. “I’m gonna talk to Steve. You shouldn’t be in the middle of this.”
Bucky smoothed a hand over his hair. Any logical part of his brain knew that she was right, that he was too close to the situation to deal with it properly. But the rest of him was screaming. Weren’t they all too close to the situation? Every member of their team had a bone to pick with Hydra. So what if his was a little bigger? She wasn’t sure what to make of his silence.
“I just wanted to tell you that you won’t have to lead the charge. I’m making sure of it.” It didn’t exactly sound like she was reassuring him, but more like she was threatening him to stay in the back and bite his tongue. “You know where my room is if you want to talk. Goodnight.”
Bucky slipped into his room and changed his clothes. He wasn’t exactly tired, but his other option was taking a shower, and he was pretty sure that would only force him deeper into his thoughts. He sank onto his bed and closed his eyes. He’d really thought he’d escaped all of it. But helping people was in his blood. He couldn’t leave people to suffer, not anymore. And god, (Y/N) was suffering.