The Hunters & The Soldier || Bucky Barnes

Dead People Can't Walk

"This isn't really what I thought I'd be doing on a Friday night." You sighed, wiping sweat from your forehead as you leaned on the shovel handle, peering up at Bucky. Five feet underground, you were digging towards the casket where Cassandra's mysterious patient was buried. Yet, all Bucky did was shine his torch down at you, offering minimal assistance. All because he didn't want to get dirty.

Fury had instructed Sam and Dean not to do anything illegal they typically did on a hunt which involved this kind of trip to the cemetery and in the end, Sam managed to convince his brother to lay low. But Fury never said anything of that sort to you and Bucky, so there you were.

"Talk less and dig more." Bucky remarked, pointing the torch directly in your eyes.

"Piece of shit." You muttered, squinting your eyes. "You could give me a hand. Aren't you supposed to be the Super Soldier here?"

Bucky smirked. "Who's the cannibal with super strength?"

"I'm not a cannibal and you're stronger than me." You grumbled, pushing back your frustration and resuming your digging.

"I thought Wendigos had plenty of stamina." Bucky remarked, rolling his eyes. "You look like you're struggling."

"I'm half human, dickhead." You shot back, purposely throwing some dirt onto his boots. "I'm starting to think you got the location wrong and you're up there to bury me or something."

"Dramatic, are we?" Bucky retorted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You rolled your eyes at him. "Just kept the torch steady and shut the fuck up." You sighed, hoping that the coffin you were looking for wasn't buried too deep.

"I'm not the one who complained the whole night."

You shot him a glare. "I can understand why Natasha dumped you." You muttered under your breath, but he heard you loud and clear. "My girl made a smart choice."

"She didn't dump me, it was a mutual dumping." He clarified, huffing.

"You sound as delusional as Thor." You looked up at him. "You know, you're unusually not grumpy today, what the fuck has gotten into you? It's freaking me out." You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Has anyone ever told you that you swear too much?" He rolled his eyes. "And I've been trying to be more open to confrontation these days, in case you haven't noticed. It's called personal growth, you should try it."

"The only thing I got in these last few days were glares."You scoffed. "Also... personal growth? You? Seems more like a mid-life crisis." You chuckled to yourself. "What are you? One hundred and sixty?"

"One hundred and seven, actually." He corrected, his gaze fixed on you as you kept digging.

"Mentally you're still what? Two, if we want to be generous?" You jabbed, glancing up at him briefly to catch the annoyed frown on his face.

"I'm actually considering what you said earlier about burying you." He replied with mock seriousness, though you knew he was kidding. At least, you hoped he was. "And listen who's talking; you're what? Eighteen?"

"Almost twenty-six, for your information." You retorted. "But really, why haven't you given me the whole 'I don't trust you, you're still with Hydra' shit today? I kind of miss it."

"I'm saving it for a special occasion." Bucky shrugged, but a smile was playing on his lips. This guy was getting weird.

You let the conversation die down, still unable to shake off the lingering resentment from how Bucky had treated you during the last year. It wasn't that you blamed him; you understood the trauma he endured because of Hydra and you knew he acted that way with you because you had served them 'willingly'. Probably, in his place, you'd be the same.