SURVIVORS - A Bucky Barnes FanFiction

Chapter 1: Punk

"Dr. Y/L/N, could you take these files to the archives?" a nurse politely asks while handing me some paperwork. "I would ask the other nurses, but they are busy with preparing the booths for more men to be checked." I nod understandably and walk towards the archives. My thoughts wander off to Bucky. After that day I was hoping he would visit another time. However, after a week, I was reassigned to another facility. I left my number to one of the station nurses in case a man came knocking to ask for it, but I never received a call. In desperation I even tried to find his file again, hoping I could find his phone number to give him a call, but I had no luck. The file was long gone with all the other applications and Bucky was off to train for the war. As I turn the corner of the recruitment facility of the Stark Expo, I hear a familiar voice and my head snaps in its direction.

"You're really going to do this again?" My eyes meet Bucky standing with a shorter blonde man. "Well, it's a fair. I'm going to try my luck," the blonde answers. I stand still, watching them from the sidelines, feeling I shouldn't interrupt them. "As who, Steve from Ohio?" Bucky raises his voice. "They'll catch you. Or worse, they'll actually take you." The blonde, Steve, is silent for a moment. "Look, I know you don't think I can do this-" Bucky interrupts him, "This isn't a back ally Steve!" "I know, it's a war" Steve answers calmly. "Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs." Bucky angrily asks, although my guess is he already knows the answer to that question. "What do you want me to do?" Steve argues, "Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?" "Yes! Why not?" Bucky angrily answers. "I don't wanna sit in a factory Bucky." "But-" "Bucky, Bucky come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That's what you don't understand. This isn't about me." I tilt my head as it clicks. Steve is his punk. "Right." Bucky's voice hardens. " 'Cause you got nothing to prove." Steve doesn't respond.

"Hey, Sarge! Are we going dancing?" A female voice shouts in the distance. I follow the voice and my eyes land on two pretty girls waving at Bucky. Guess I'm not the only doll he's met. Although, I can't blame him. The man is gorgeous, and he knows it. Why wait on one redhead when he can have every girl he wants? He turns to them and opens his arms as two big smiles meet his eyes. "Yes, we are!" he shouts happily. He turns back to Steve and sighs. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back," he says while walking away backwards. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you," Steve responds. I smile as Bucky walks back to Steve and embraces him. "You're a punk," he mumbles. "Jerk," Steve responds. "Be careful" Steve says as they let go of each other. Bucky nods and walks away, missing my eyes following him back to the girls. "Come on girls, they're playing our song," is the last thing I hear as my face falls. "So much for that dance," I whisper to myself, feeling some kind of betrayal.

"I told you, my gut is right," Dr. Erskine whispers behind me. I'm startled and quickly turn around. The doctor nods towards Steve. "Examine him would you, I believe we found our last candidate." I nod, my face still showing disappointment. The doctor gives me a confused look before his eyes look at the spot where Bucky was last seen. "Friend of yours?" he curiously asks. "No," I say, as I try to brighten up my mood. "We've only met once." He nods and doesn't asks any further questions. It's what I love about him. He always reads the room and knows how to respond. I turn back to where Steve was standing, only to find out he already went inside. I quickly say goodbye to the doctor, running into the facility, just in time to see a glimpse of blond hair going into booth 4. I run-walk towards the booth and before another doctor can open the curtains, I stop him. "I'll check this young man, special orders," I say with a polite smile. He stares at me for a moment, but eventually nods and walks away.

I open the curtains to the booth, Steve sitting on a closed toilet, rushing to put his shoes on like he wants to get away from this place in a hurry. He looks up as fast as he hears me enter and I ignore the panicked look on his face. "So, you want to go overseas. Kill some Nazis." I say as I open his file. "Excuse me?" he says. "Dr. Y/L/N," I tell him as he stands up and shakes my hand. "I am the assistent of Dr. Abraham Erskine, representing the Strategic Scientific Reserve." "Steve Rogers," he introduces himself. His eyes follow me as I walk towards a small table to lie his file on. I feel his need to ask me a question, probably about a woman being a doctor, but he holds back, letting a awkward pause wash over us. "Where are you from, Mr. Rogers? Hmm? Is it New Haven?" I ask as I flip the pages of his file. "Or Paramus?" Another flip. "Five exams in five different cities-" "That might not be the right file" he interrupts me. "Don't worry, it's not the exams I'm interested in." I say as I give him a smile. "It's the five tries. But you didn't answer my question." I pause and stand before him. "Do you want to kill Nazi's?" He thinks for a moment, before replying. "Is this a test?" he asks. I nod my head. "Yes." He then shakes his head carefully. "I don't want to kill anyone, miss. I don't like bullies. I don't care where they're from."

I look at him for a moment, processing what he just said. Then a small smile forms my lips. "Well, there are already so big man fighting this war." His face falls, as if he's preparing himself for disappointment. "Maybe what we need now is a little guy, don't you agree?" His eyes light up, hope sparkling in them. "I can offer you a chance." I continue while opening the curtain of the booth. "Only a chance." He instantly answers. "I'll take it." "Good" I say, turning around to ask my next question. "So where is the little guy from? Actually?" He smiles when answering. "Brooklyn." I stamp his paper. Force A1, he will probably serve in the same camp as Bucky. "Congratulations, soldier." I say as I give him his file. He takes it and can't keep his eyes from looking the approved stamp. "We will see each other more often Mr. Rogers. I can't wait to see what you have to offer." I say but I doubt he hears me, as I see him glunder with pride and happiness, still staring at his file.