The long lost Barnes

The Betrayal

Day Forty-Seven: The Calm Before the Storm

It was a cool, still night at the Avengers compound, and the usual buzz of activity had quieted. The team had just wrapped up a difficult mission in the field, and the compound was now silent—too silent for Bucky Barnes' liking. His mind was sharp, his senses always attuned to even the smallest shift in the air, but tonight there was something deeper gnawing at him.

He stood in the hallway, his metal arm resting by his side, waiting just outside Leia's door. The last few weeks had brought so much change: they were closer than they'd been since the war, since the time before Hydra had stolen her from him. She was slowly recovering, peeling away the layers of pain and fear she'd carried for years. She laughed again. She touched him without hesitation.

But there was always something behind her eyes—something guarded, something that never quite let her fully be free. Bucky had noticed it more and more recently, and the nagging feeling in his gut told him that something was about to break, something he couldn't stop.

A faint sound drew his attention—footsteps, soft and measured, coming from the end of the hallway. He didn't need to look to know who it was. Steve Rogers appeared at his side, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Still here?" Steve asked, a small, tired smile crossing his face. "You know she's fine, right? She's asleep."

Bucky didn't respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on Leia's door. His chest tightened, the feeling inside of him intensifying.

"I know," he muttered, almost to himself. "But... I can't shake it. Something feels off, Steve."

Steve was quiet for a moment, glancing over at Bucky. The two men had been through countless battles together, and Steve knew better than anyone that Bucky's instincts were never wrong.

"You think she's in trouble?" Steve asked.

"I don't know," Bucky replied. "I just... I feel like I'm about to lose her again."

--------------------------------------------------

Bucky's unease didn't subside as the hours passed. He stood by her door, keeping watch like he had for so many nights before, waiting for the moment when he would hear her voice again, or when the tension in his chest would finally release. He had learned over time that some instincts were just a warning—a premonition.

But that warning didn't come alone.

It came with the softest whisper—just enough to send a chill down his spine.

"Bucky?"

He turned around to see Leia standing at the threshold of her door, her figure bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light. She looked... different. There was a depth to her eyes, something that wasn't quite right, but Bucky couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Leia, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice gentle but tense.

She didn't respond immediately, her gaze flickering to the floor as she took a step forward. Her lips were pressed into a tight line, and the way she held herself... it wasn't the way she usually moved. It was deliberate, distant.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke. "I need to tell you something, Bucky. Something important."

Bucky's heart skipped. "What is it?" He stepped toward her, concern overtaking his instincts.

She looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his, and for a split second, there was something almost apologetic in her gaze. But it was quickly replaced with something harder, colder.

"I—" She paused, her voice trembling, but her resolve hardened. "I'm sorry."

Before Bucky could ask her what she meant, it happened. The lights in the hallway flickered, and a low hum filled the air. It was the sound of something wrong—a warning, like a predator circling its prey. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Then came the voices.

"It's time, Leia."

Bucky turned just in time to see a team of Hydra agents step out from the shadows, their guns trained on him and Leia. His heart pounded as he instinctively moved toward her, his body already going into defensive mode.

"No!" he shouted, but Leia's hand shot out, stopping him.

"Don't," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Bucky's gaze snapped back to her, confusion crashing over him. "Leia, what are you—"

But before he could finish, she stepped back, her hands trembling as they rose, slowly, to her head, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I had to," she whispered, barely audible. "I had to tell them. I couldn't let you die."

The words hit Bucky like a punch to the gut. He froze, unable to understand.

"What... what are you talking about?" he asked, his voice cracking with disbelief. "Why would you—"

"I told them where we were," she interrupted, her voice thick with regret. "I told Hydra where the compound was. I told them you were here."

A deep, paralyzing silence filled the air. Bucky's world spun out of control as the words landed on him like a weight. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think.

"No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking. "Leia, please."

But she wouldn't meet his eyes anymore. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the ground, her lips quivering, her entire body trembling with the weight of her decision.

"I did it to protect you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't let them hurt you again. I couldn't let Hydra hurt you. If they took you, I—I didn't know what I'd do. I didn't want to see you like that again."

Bucky's chest felt tight with the suffocating pressure of the words. His heart broke for her, for the woman who had fought so long and hard to survive, who had just made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of protecting him. But she didn't see it that way.

"You didn't have to do this, Leia," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I would've protected you. I will protect you."

Her eyes shot up at him, tears streaming down her face. "You can't," she said, her voice cracking. "You don't understand. I... I can't let you die because of me."

Before Bucky could speak, the Hydra agents moved in, weapons drawn.

"Time to go," one of them said, his voice cold, devoid of emotion.

Bucky's hand shot out, his metal arm grabbing the nearest agent and slamming him into the wall. He felt the familiar surge of adrenaline as he fought back, knocking down another agent before spinning toward Leia.

"No!" he shouted, his voice desperate. "I'm not leaving you!"

But she was already being pulled away from him. One of the agents yanked on her arm, forcing her to stumble toward the exit. Bucky's mind raced. His body moved before he even thought, his instincts screaming at him to follow, to protect her, but he was being overwhelmed.

"Bucky, stop!" Leia cried out. "Please!"

But it wasn't her voice anymore—not the voice of the woman he loved, but the cold, calculated voice of someone who had made a deal with the enemy.

Bucky's heart shattered as he fought to free himself from the agents who were closing in on him, but the more he struggled, the more he realized that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get to her.

Hydra agents swarmed the hallways of the compound, forcing Bucky back with overwhelming numbers. As they dragged Leia away, Bucky's heart tore, and his mind screamed in agony. The air was thick with tension, with the overwhelming sense that this was it—Leia was gone, and it was his fault for not seeing the signs. He couldn't save her in time.

He fought like a man possessed, taking down Hydra agents one after another, but his thoughts were clouded with doubt, with the sharp pain of betrayal.

By the time the fight finally came to a halt, the only sound left was the pounding of Bucky's heartbeat and the hollow emptiness in his chest.