Mother Nature ||| Bucky Barnes

45 | 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬

𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙰 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙵𝙵
2016, 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚒𝚡

So, Steve explained how he saved Bucky from the crash, and what led up to it. Once he breified Sam and I on the plan to take Bucky and hide out in a warehouse, I had to voice my skeptism.

"Let me get this straight. Three highly desired criminals, out in the open, dragging an unconscious man through Berlin. How do you plan on doing that?" I asked. Sometimes Steve needed to be reminded that he was an idiot sometimes.

Steve couldn't answer me, once he realized I was right. "We'll be fast." He concluded, and I rolled my eyes.

We did just that, with Steve and Sam dragging Bucky, and myself making sure no one was around, which nobody was, surprisingly.

The four of us entered the large warehouse, taking in the sights.

"How are we going to contain him?" Sam asked Steve once they dropped Bucky.

Steve shrugged. "We can put his arm in that? It might hold him. We don't really have any options." He said, pointing to a large vice in one area of the building.

I looked between the vice, Bucky, the vice, and Bucky again, coming to the agreement that we really don't have any other options.

While Sam and Steve moved the vice to Bucky's metal arm, I sat in the corner and took out my messy hair. I combed through it with my fingers, before putting it up in a ponytail, and relaxing against the wall.

Not long after I was sitting there in silence, Steve came over to sit next to me. "You doing alright?" He asked quietly.

I nodded, a tiny smile of appreciation to him tugging at my lips. "I'm just tired." I told him.

Steve smiled at me, before patting my shoulder and getting up. He turned to say one last thing before he left the room. "Are you gonna be okay with him?" The Captain asked, concerned for my safety.

I sadly looked over at Bucky, who looked so helpless. When he woke up, he would need someone with him. I'm that someone. "I'll be fine." I said, convincing him.

Now, it was just me and my thoughts. I adjusted my backpack to lay on the ground, before laying my head onto it. I layed there, playing with my staff, and contemplated what I told Steve. Yes, I'm tired, that's true. But my tiredness isn't exactly from exhaustion. It took me a while, but I finally, fully realized that I was tired of life. And truly, I didn't know if I wanted to live anymore.

Eventually, real exhaustion overtook me, and I was caught into a haze. Hand tightly gripping my weapon, I took deep breaths, ignoring the pain in my throat, and tried to fight the oncoming headache that always aroze after my brain was messed with.

I don't know how long I laid there, overthinking everything, but it was long enough to finally sleep.

❁

I was being shaken awake, that's for sure. "Samuel, what the hell do you want?" I groaned, opening my eyes to see Sam.

Sam looked offended at my choice of words and pulled my body up from the ground by my shoulders. "It's not my phsycotic boyfriend that just woke up from killing people, is it?" He said, moving so I could see who he was talking about.