|| SamBucky (WinterFalcon Oneshots) ||

Taken.

Time had frozen when Bucky saw Sam get tackled to the ground. The scream that tore from his throat was animalistic. It was feral, it sent shivers up Sam's spine. He has to calm Bucky down before he goes on a killing spree.

His wide, brown eyes caught Bucky's stormy blue ones. "Bucky, look at me." He manages to choke out, trying to send him a reassuring smile.

He frowns though when he sees tears in those shimmery blue eyes. Bucky struggled but they injected him with something.

He could feel his body start to shut down, his mind following along.

Still though, he struggles and struggles and struggles.

Until something hits his head.

He doesn't register the cry of agony.

|TWO YEARS LATER|

Bucky jolts awake, his heart thundering against his ribcage, once again finding himself on the floor. Old habits die hard, I guess. Though he was sure he had gotten rid of Hydra. With the treatment in Wakanda and with Sam's help, that man is no more.

His mind reels at the nightmare.
When he had lost Sam, he felt heartbroken. He felt angry towards himself and punished himself for it, not eating and sleeping for days on end, the fear of Sam haunting him in his sleep enough to keep awake. When he had told Sarah, it was probably one of the many hard things he had done. Because they saw him as family, yet as she cried for her brother, she comforted the man too, trying to smoothen out his worries and guilt. He almost broke then.

Why did she try to comfort him when he was the reason they got Sam in the first place. Different scenarios played out in his head. Things he could have done differently.

Don't only was it his fault.

It was Sam's too.

That little shit wormed his way into his heart and slowly broke down his walls. He also let his guard down and now he slacked.

Look where that got him.

He slips on his shirt and walks out, grabbed the keys to the motorbike and rode off.

His visor was open, the wind pushing against his face, even if it is in his eyes. It doesn't bother him.

He could open his eyes underwater for about 3 to 4 hours. This is nothing but a little rose thorn in his backside.

He slows down when there's a red light. The streets were empty, only a few cars driving by. It's oddly serene. However, something feels off. Like he's being watched. He narrows his eyes before lifting his feet and drives off. 

He turns a sharp right, looking in his side-view mirrors to find a motorbike following him. He speeds up, the bike behind him doing the same.

Something is completely wrong.

Very.

Before he has time to react, a car is driving straight towards him, slamming into his bike, jerked Bucky off his bike. The ex-soldier lands roughly on his flesh arm, groaning and rolling into his back, his blue eyes staring up at the starry sky.

He sits up with effort, his vision hazy.

"You know, if you wanted to meet, you could have sent me a little invite instead of resorting to crashing my fucking motorbike!" He snarls, his eyes focused sorely on the figure stalking towards him.

Before he can speak again, a hand is yanking him up by the hair. Bucky makes no effort of break free.

His eyes filled with tears at the sight of those familiar brown eyes. But they aren't. Gone is the warmth and that little spark of mischief replaced with the look of a soldier. His face neutral and his eyes cold.