We Get One Shot At This

You Can't Hope to Win

When you woke, the room was black and quiet with only a small lamp lit on the other side of the room. You looked around and tried to get up, but your restraints had been reapplied while you were unconscious. How long had you been out? It felt like you had renewed energy and had slept for days.

Maybe you had.

A quiet hum was off to the side of you, but it was too dark to see the source of the noise. Pulling at the restraints proved to be useless, even with your renewed sense of strength. You rested your head back against the hard table with a huff, frustrated that you were left alone, though you really didn't want to see your captors anytime soon, either. You closed your eyes and resolved to just relish in the quiet, thankful that the torture had stopped for now.

They must have noticed that you were awake; just as you reached a feeling of stillness, you were jolted when the harsh lights came alive and stung your eyes. The momentary blindness in the glare started to fade, and what you saw sent a horrifying chill down your spine.

They were keeping you alive. The tube sticking from your side, providing the nutrition that you had been denying your body, ensured that you had finally lost all control of your own fate. You squeezed your eyes shut at the revelation that they might actually win, and tears began to escape between your lids when the mechanism was again applied to your head.

"Realize this now, my dear. You can't possibly hope to win."

~~~

As you ran through the pouring rain, you laughed when your shoes slipped off of your feet and stuck in the mud, finally choosing to abandon them and just focus on getting home and dry. Bucky was in front, holding your hand and pulling you along, laughing with you at the ridiculousness of the situation as cars passed by with their drivers staring at you both.

"This was your idea, (Y/N)! You knew it was gonna rain!"

He darted around a few buildings before finally reaching your house, but the front door was locked. You patted your hands over the few pockets you had and searched your tiny handbag, coming up with nothing. "Mom's not home," you said as you continued to laugh and continued to be soaked in the downpour, "we're locked out!"

"Shit." He looked around for a place to find shelter, finally deciding it might be worth it to break down the door on the side of the garage 'just a little bit'. With a swift kick the doorframe cracked, allowing for the old wooden door to open just enough for you both to get inside. "There, that's better, right?"

Now that you were out of the rain, you began to realize how cold you had become, shivering as you crossed your arms over your chest and rubbed your hands on your arms to try to create warmth. Bucky noticed right away and began to search the small garage for anything that he could cover you with.

"Hey, you want me to break a window on the house? We could tell your mom it was an accident or something, okay? I'll take the blame, we just need to keep you warm."

"I'll be fine, Buck. She should be home soon." You found a few boxes under one of the work benches and hurried to open them, hoping for anything that might serve to hold in heat. You smiled and held up an old and torn blanket, proud of your find. "Get over here, boy. Get in here with me."

You laid the blanket in the corner of the garage, sitting down and holding your hand out for him to join you. He sat and leaned back against the wall, holding his arm out for you to curl up against him, wrapping the rest of the blanket over you. His skin was wet but warm, and he smelled of fresh rain. You hummed contently as you breathed him in, closing your eyes in an attempt to make the moment last longer.