Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Fighting

You were young, and he was going to get you out of the four by four walls that was keeping you from freedom, no matter how scared you were. He understood he was intimidating. His height added with muscle could have people cowering before him, but words said by Natasha, he was just a cuddly marshmallow with a beard.

He could hear people coming, his shield hitting the lock to open the door. He didn't have time to comfort you when you started sobbing, basically pleading to be left alone. You were terrified, that was all he could tell. From the subtle hints from Bucky, who was still getting used to him but on the run, he found you and everything you had been through in the past hundred years.

It was a large memory being around you. You were only a year younger than him, and went missing around your teenage years, his first kiss being with you coming to mind.

He remembers your parents like they were his own. All the missing posters and your face on all the milk cartons had flooded his brain at just the mention of your name, but he remembered you nonetheless, and you were still fighting to this day. Just a lot older.

You pushed yourself against the corner when he pulled the door open, his body barely making it inside before he was pulled out by agents against him. He was pinned against the wall while others moved to grab you, your screams of anger and fear mixing together as Steve tried to get out of the grasp he was being held in.

Adrenaline hit you harder now that you were free after such a long time of being stuck in that cell, that holding place you had lost nails and skin to. The place where you had bled in, died in, and brought back to when they were done using you. All you knew, was that you needed to leave to not be used as someone else's lab rat.

Steve watched as you pushed men to the side, his own confidence striking in him, but with the wrong thought. He didn't know you were going to leave him. He didn't know you were going to escape.

Until you were running through the door to freedom. He had just dropped the last agent when you were getting done, your hair falling down your shoulders and in your face when you made eye contact with him. He saw the fear in your now wide eyes, and was calling after you when you bolted, your legs wobbly and a little unstable from your lack of use for such a long time.

"She's gone. Someone stop her, without hurting her," he spoke into his comm, which was connected to Natasha and Sam, who were on the run with him still. "Be careful, she's fighting back, and probably hurt."

"You sure about this, Cap?" Natasha was always the one to be sure he really wanted what he was going for, always knowing the answer at his determination. "What if she doesn't remember you?"

"Just get her unharmed," Steve assured, his voice filled with fear and hope. "Sam, if she leaves, I want you in the sky. She's confused, she doesn't know anything, so she'll just run and we'll lose her." A noise of confirmation on the other end had him following your footsteps, his ears concentrated on your fast heartbeat and heavy pants.

Creaking door.

Yells.

Grunts. High pitched grunts, both in frustration and fear.

Then a scream.

He rushed into a room to find you fighting at least ten agents, all having some sort of grasp on your body. Your arms and legs were moving them off, but more took their place. He moved when two needles were pushed into your chest, your pained noised hitting his ears on a level he didn't know existed. It hurt to hear something from anger and defeat- just straight confusion, come from someone who didn't deserve it.

You were a sweet girl from what he remembers. You had an apple for your teacher, and god were you smart. All your homework was done, and you were ahead in two of your classes, history and socials.