Bucky Barnes Oneshots

war (angst/fluff)

1940's

Your feet smacked the pavement as you ran. Your muscles felt like they were burning in fire, but you kept going, terrified. Bombs crashed all around you, buildings crumbled, and the ground shook as if it were going to open up and swallow you. You almost wished it would.

Gunshots popped and bullets whizzed past your ears. You made it to a rocky staircase, and you tried to run down when you tripped. You tumbled down the stone stairs, smacking against the ground, blood rising to the surface of your hands and knees. You swore, and before you could stand up again, the soldiers surrounded you.

You screamed as your ankles were grabbed, and you were flipped onto your back.

"Stop! it's a woman!" A soldier called as your cloak was ripped from your body. You were hyperventilating, panic seizing you as you stared up at the American soldiers. The dagger sheathed in your belt was confiscated, and the men stared down at you.

"Please!" you begged for mercy, your accent thickening in your desperation.

"Sergeant Barnes?" The soldiers looked to their leader, the man who had yelled for them to stop attacking you.

"We are not going to kill her!" He sounded angry.

"What if she's a spy?"

"I'm not, I swear. My home was bombed, I was running in fear!" You cried, pleading with him for mercy.

"We cannot leave her in the streets-"

"Of course not." The Sergeant spoke to his soldier, wearing a uniform different than the others. You winced at a sharp pain in your side, and you looked down to see blood soaking through your dress. You began to feel lightheaded, but you were terrified to black out and be left at the mercy of the likely sex-deprived soldiers that were invading your country.

Your eyes grew heavy and you moaned in pain, gripping the wound on your side from hitting a rock in your fall down the stairs.

"We need to get her to the medbay, come on!"

The words echoed in your head as you were lifted by the leader, carried in his arms. You wanted to struggle and try to make a run for it, but you were far too weak and you had nowhere to go.

"You're safe, doll, I'm going to protect you."

Your head dropped as you slipped into unconsciousness, limp in his arms.

Bucky stood over your unconscious body as the best medic treated your wounds. She wrapped your hands and stitched the gash on your side, and Bucky winced as he watched.

"Will she be alright?" he asked the medic anxiously.

"Yes, she'll be fine. I think she's asleep from the shock." The medic nodded, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

She wrapped the wound on your side and left Bucky with some morphine to give you when you needed it, instructing him to monitor you.

"Do you think she's a spy, or a soldier?"

"No, there's nothing that would suggest that. I think she really was just a victim– collateral damage."

Bucky was alone with you, then. He sat beside his bed that you were currently sleeping on, in his private chambers, away from the men who wouldn't be able to keep their hands to themselves with a pretty young girl unconscious.

Your eyes opened slowly, and you looked around, disoriented. You tried to sit up, but weakly sank back against the pillows. You noticed him sitting beside you, and you looked down. You were now wearing loose pants, and an oversized t shirt– an army green, from a soldier.