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The moment the woman appeared, Bucky knew it wasn't her, and if the red skull and tentacles on her breastplate was anything to go off of, they were about to have one hell of a fight.

And he was right.

The girl was confused, but she wasted no time in honing in on a giant green man.

He stood behind some type of small computer, an arm in a sling and glasses sitting on his nose.

Was she hallucinating?

Was it a test?

She settled on a test. A test that the Russian wanted her to pass. To prove that even when injured or confused, she would succeed.

So, she lunged off the platform she'd been standing on, only needing to take a few strides to hop over the computer and wrap herself around the green man's thick neck. She reminded herself that she couldn't phase as large hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her off and throwing her behind him.

She rolled to a crouch, barely registering the burning that started in her leg again and with a yell, ran at him, this time setting her sights on his obviously injured arm.

She tried to jump at him, but the moment she was in reach, he grabbed hold of her waist, hauling her up and tossing her hard enough she was airborne until she slammed into one of the shafts that stretched up from the platform. Her side took the majority of the impact and the air was knocked from her lungs, but she still lifted herself to her knees, knowing she had to continue.

Looking to her right, she became certain that it was a test. The Soldat stood there, though he was dressed in unfamiliar clothes, and his hair was longer, and his hand was black.

It didn't make sense. Something... something happened. Something must have gone wrong when she tested the suit—that was the only explanation. Wrong enough that he needed repairs and she'd been knocked unconscious. Or something.

Regardless, the Russian was testing her, and she wasn't going to let him down.

She decided that the Soldat was her opponent, like he had been so many times, along with the green man and the slowly approaching black man who held a colorful shield. He barked a 'stay back' behind him, and when her eyes moved in that direction, she noticed an elderly man.

She didn't know what to make of him. She'd never fought someone that old before.

Was she supposed to fight him?

Or was supposed to protect him?

It didn't matter, because a moment later she was slipping out of the way of a poorly thrown shield.

Turning in a slow circle, she regarded her opponents, looking for weaknesses. The one who threw the shield seems like the most normal out of all of them, so she feigned right, watching the Soldat follow her movements before bolting left, directly for the normal one.

He didn't back away, but dropped into a defensive stance before ducking as her arm flew towards his face.

Before he could follow her movements though, she spun around his back, jabbing him in the spine before letting him turn and sending a hard kick into his gut. He rolled backwards, popping back up and running at her before letting off his own barrage of punches.

They went back and forth a few seconds before a figure darted behind her, grabbing hold of her arms, and yanking her against his chest.

A metal arm wrapped around her throat, and she grabbed it, kicking her legs into the air before pulling them down swiftly, bringing them rolling to the ground. In the flurry, she slipped from the hold, spinning and rolling to climb onto his back, where she wrapped her arm around his neck.

A Birdie Lost in Time | Bucky BarnesWhere stories live. Discover now