The Viper || BUCKY BARNES [2]

06 ― Shaken

2014 ― Washington, D.C.

"It was him," Steve said quietly. He sat beside Holland in the back of the armored vehicle, both of them restrained and hollowed by what they'd just witnessed. Holland sat still, her shoulder burning from the gunshot, but the pain was numbed by the shock that consumed her. Her eyes were distant, unfocused, and wet with silent tears. She looked shattered, barely holding herself together.

"He looked right at us... and he didn't even know us," Holland whispered, her voice breaking. The words left her lips as if they'd been torn straight from her chest.

"How is that even possible? It was like 70 years ago," Sam asked from across the vehicle, trying to understand the impossible.

Holland didn't lift her head as she spoke. Her voice was hoarse, thick with grief. "Zola... Bucky's whole unit was captured in '43... and then HYDRA took me after Steve got the serum injected. Zola experimented on both of us... Whatever he did, it helped Bucky survive the fall from that train. So that means they found him and—" She cut herself off, her throat tightening too much to finish. The weight of it all crushed her: the lost time, the torture he must have endured, the fact that she hadn't been there to save him because she believed he was dead. 

She had left him behind.

"None of that is your fault, Holland. Or yours, Steve," Natasha said, looking between the two of them with steady eyes. There was no judgment—only understanding.

Steve lowered his gaze, his voice barely above a whisper. "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

"He's my soulmate..." Holland whispered. She leaned back against the seat, the tears falling freely now. Her voice trembled, the rawness of that confession aching in every syllable.

Sam's eyes dropped to her shoulder, and he noticed the dark, growing stain across her shirt. The wound was getting worse. "We need to get a doctor here. We don't put pressure on that wound; she's gonna bleed out here in the truck," Sam said urgently.

One of the Agents turned threateningly with an electronic baton, and Sam backed off with his hands raised—but then, to everyone's surprise, the same Agent turned and struck the one beside them instead. A swift takedown followed, efficient and clean.

The group froze until the Agent pulled off their helmet. Holland let out a shaky breath the moment she saw her. "Ah. That thing was squeezing my brain," Maria Hill said with a grimace, tossing the helmet aside.

A short, relieved laugh escaped Holland's lips. "I have never been so relieved to see you, Hill," she said, the emotion still heavy in her voice but slightly softened by gratitude.

Maria scanned the faces around her until her eyes landed on Sam.

"Who's this guy?" she asked dryly.

⇎⇎⇎⇎⇎⇎

Hill got them out of the vehicle and quickly transferred them into another one, this time taking them off the grid entirely. The ride was silent, heavy with exhaustion, pain, and the weight of everything they now knew. Their destination was Fury's safe house, though "house" was generous. It was more like an underground cave carved into the earth, hidden from every traceable system and far removed from the chaos above.

When they arrived, Steve was the first to jump out, immediately turning back to help Holland down from the truck. She had one hand clutching her shoulder tightly, applying as much pressure as she could, though her face was pale and drawn. Sam steadied her on the other side, supporting her as the three of them made their way into the bunker. Natasha followed just behind with Maria Hill, who was already calling out to the medical team.