Doll. // Bucky Barnes X OC

TWENTY-THREE

Bucky had a terrible gut feeling regarding Melany staying at the compound with no one but security. It sat heavy in his chest, sharp and restless, the kind of feeling he'd learned the hard way never to ignore. He tried to shove it down—told himself it was just nerves, just him being overprotective—but it only grew stronger as the hours passed.

By the time the quinjet was being prepped, the feeling was screaming.

A few hours before the team was set to leave, Bucky pulled Steve aside near the edge of the hangar, lowering his voice so no one else could hear.

"I don't think she should be here alone."

Steve paused, glancing back toward the rest of the team before turning fully to Bucky. "She has as many agents here as we could get on such short notice, Buck," he said calmly, adjusting one of his gloves. "This place will be locked down tighter than Fort Knox."

"I know, but..." Bucky exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. He dropped his hand, jaw tightening. "I just have this feeling something's going to happen while we're gone."

Steve studied him for a moment. Not dismissive. Just concerned. "You've been through a lot. She's been through a lot," he said carefully. "That kind of worry doesn't just shut off."

Bucky huffed out a quiet, humorless breath. "This isn't that. This is... different." He glanced toward the elevators that led deeper into the compound, like he expected her to appear any second. "I hate leaving her."

"She knows how to contact us if anything comes up," Steve replied, softer now. "She's got direct lines to all of us. And we made it clear—someone will be guarding her room, the labs, wherever she is. No exceptions."

Bucky nodded, but it didn't help. His metal hand flexed unconsciously at his side.

"You know we all have to go to take HYDRA out," Steve added. "If we don't finish this now, they'll keep coming back. And that puts her in more danger, not less."

Bucky swallowed. He hated that Steve was right.

"I know," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoulders were tense, posture tight. "You're right."

Steve gave him a small nod, then looked back toward the lobby where the rest of the team was gathering, checking weapons, pulling on gear. "Let's go over the plan again."

Bucky followed close behind, eyes drifting one last time toward the hallway that led to Melany's room. The image of her stubbornly standing at the bottom of the stairs flashed in his mind—determined, shaking, refusing to let him carry her.

Once the briefing started, the room shifted into mission mode. Screens lit up with satellite images, routes, and exit points. Voices overlapped as Nat walked them through it again, emphasizing timing, spacing, contingencies.

No mistakes.

No improvising.

No second chances.

They were reminded—again—just how careful they had to be. HYDRA was cornered, scattered, and dangerous. This might be the last time for a long while they'd have the opportunity to end it for good.

Bucky listened, absorbed every detail, committed every route to memory—but part of him stayed behind.

With her.

And no matter how many times he told himself she was safe, that part refused to quiet.

The jet was louder once they settled into the air, the steady roar filling every space where conversation might've gone. It wasn't uncomfortable—just heavy.