Revenge Turned Sweet

Chapter 22: Murder the Murderer

"Bucky?" I call out into the darkness with my eyes shut. My blissful sleep being interrupted by the sound of my bedroom door being clicked shut. The bed dips beside me and a warm arm wraps around my torso. I sigh in content as he pulls me flush to his chest. "What time is it?" I mumble sleepily, feeling the stubble on his face scratch my bare shoulder.

"It's late." His low voice reverberates through me. I adjust my pillow under my head, ready to fall back asleep in his arms when I feel him take a shaky breath behind me.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, opening my eyes and turning around to face him in the darkness. I barely see the silhouette of him, but I can tell he's frowning. I brush my hand through his short hair and caress his cheek gently. "What happened?"

He's quiet for a moment, the only sounds in the room coming from my open window. Letting the warm breeze in and allowing the crickets to chirp. "Nothing," he responds, "everything's fine. I just wanted to be with you."

I narrow my eyes at him even though he can't see me. "You don't have to lie, Bucky, not to me." He sighs in response but doesn't move an inch despite his annoyed attitude. "Don't make me look," I warn in a joking manner.

It's quiet again and I wonder if I'm dreaming, if he ever actually came into my room at all. "Sometimes I wonder if the nightmares will ever stop," he mumbles and I shift under the thin sheet to get closer to him.

I press my lips to his, trying to comfort him. "They will," I whisper, "I promise." I close my eyes and rest my hand on his chest, finding comfort in the beating of his heart against my palm.

"Nadya?" I hear him say.

"Hm?" I hum through the blanket of sleep that's starting to cover me.

I feel him brush my hair out of my face and behind my ear with his metal hand, settling it onto my neck. "My nightmare was about you," he whispers, voice rough.

I open my eyes again. "About me?" I question. It's quiet, ominously quiet as I wait for his response. The crickets have gone silent, the breeze now non-existent, I only hear the heartbeat in my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut when soft, warm light fills the room, straining my eyes. "Bucky?" My hands rub my eyes, trying to rid them of the stinging when something ice cold wraps around my neck, making me choke on the breath I just took.

My hands fly to my neck as my eyes shoot open, seeing The Winter Soldier standing below me. His metal arm outstretched to my neck and his eyes glaring at me. He tightens his grip as he lifts me higher off of the ground and I cry out in pain. I squeeze his wrist with both of my hands, grunting as I hit the carpeted ground.

He throws his arm back as the blue sparks flow through all of the silver cracks, making it twist and turn. I slide along the carpet and gasp when my back hits something solid. I grab hold of the small dresser and stand on trembling legs, coughing as I try to catch my breath. He takes a step toward me with determined eyes and I force my hand out, the other clutching my throat to ease the shooting pain flowing through it.

He hits the back wall, hard, making the wood crack and splinter. I take small steps toward him, my hand still outstretched with blue waves coming from my fingers, pinning him to the wall. My eyes scan my surroundings for a moment, seeing my old bedroom.

"Nadya?" A strained voice fills my ears and I crane my neck back to him, taking a sharp intake of breath. He groans as I clench my fist, slowly, tightening my hold on him. "What're you doing?" His eyes squeeze shut and his teeth grit together.

I watch him struggle, watch his pained expression twist his face. "You're my mission," I say but don't recognize my own voice. "Murder the murderer."

His eyes shoot open, wide with fear as they focus on me. "What? Nadya, you-" he cries out in pain when I twist my wrist, making his metal arm turn without will. A smirk crawls up my face at his cries. His breathing is ragged when he stops screaming and looks at me with hopeless eyes. "Nadya-" I twist my neck a bit to the side and cut his sentence short with the sound of his bones snapping. His head lulls forward as his eyes fall shut. I open my hand and drop it, making his body drop to the ground with a thud.