Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 15 - A Forced Exfil

Little grey tendrils of smoke curl around your wrist. Time slows as you watch them creep up your arm and disappear near your elbow. 

From several paces away, Agent King stumbles back and looks to you. His once bright, amber gaze now dulled. Glazed over in confusion. The large hand that had hours earlier laid gently upon your back is now pressed tightly against his own stomach, little rivers of red oozing from between his fingers. 

Like a castle tower hit by cannon fire he crumbles, sinking slowly to his knees as his strength gives out - a fallen fortress.

"Kentay?" you breath out in shock, dropping the gun on the floor as if it had burned you.

Agent King tears his eyes from yours and looks down at his blood-covered hand before whispering. His voice is so quiet you can't hear what he's saying, but his lips form the sound of your name. 

He's calling to you. 

In a desperate bid to reach him you run - but your movements feel heavy and clumsy. Your steps thick, as if wading through tar. You can't seem to move nearly fast enough until you finally reach his side and drop to your knees, guiding him back until he leans up against the wall. 

"Oh no...no, no I'm sorry I...I'm so sorry," you stammer, pressing your hands atop his to add pressure as wet warmth spills through your own fingers. "Oh God," you whisper, the blood not stopping as it seeps through his shirt. "Why did you lunge, you idiot?!" you hiss, glancing up at him.  "I...I was aiming for the wall Kentay, you should've just...I never...I never meant to - I was trying to distract you I wasn't going to - oh God I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Agent King looks down at your intertwined hands, then slowly back to you in shock. His blood begins seeping from between your own fingers, dripping down your wrist. It's warm. Too warm. And it's not stopping.

"Child."

A weak, rasping voice from behind catches your attention. You turn to find Natasha supporting the director as he too lays on the ground. A painful chill runs through your chest as you spot a dark crimson stain on his chest crawling across his pale blue sweater, spreading across the fibers like spilled ink.

"Oh God, Gabe," you whisper, voice shaking as a silent tear falls down your cheek.

"Y/n?" Agent King's voice says weakly. You look down at him as he pulls his other hand atop yours, threading his fingers between your own and squeezing gently. 

"Shh," you hush him. "You're okay. It's going to be okay I-I'll call the lab and-and-and we can get surgeons here and-"

"I'm sorry," King interrupts, shaking his head. "I thought it was...her," King mumbles, glancing at Natasha, unshed tears in his eyes. 

"Y/n," Gabe calls again, mustering his remaining strength to reach out towards you, beckoning you to his side.

You glance desperately between the two men on the ground. You're stuck between Kentay and Gabe, unsure of where to go. Until a warm hand curls around your wrist, pushing you away. You let out a stifled sob as you try to keep the pressure on his wound, but he takes your wrist once more, forcefully pushing back.

"Go," he demands. "He needs you."

Distraught, you nod and scramble across the room, barely making it to your feet before falling once more to the floor beside the director, who gasps for breath as a steady stream of blood trickles from the side of his mouth. He struggles for a moment, and tries to take deep breaths as if to speak.

"Shh," you hush, shaking your head as you pull your sweatshirt from your body, leaving you only in your black tank top as you press the fabric against the director's chest, looking up to Natasha, who sports a badly split lip and clear knuckle-marks across a bruising jaw. "Can you help him?" you ask. "Please?"