Hellfire▹w.s.|✔[Wattys2016]

ELEVEN

[a/n: hold me]

VICTORIA SET her eyes on the scenery ahead, rural and inexplicably beautiful.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?" Bucky asked.

After a moment, Steve shook his head, sighed. "Whatever it is, I'll deal with it." Victoria clenched her jaw, tempted to slap Steve upside his blonde head. She would've, but she just didn't feel like being frozen for another 70 years or so. He was holding the world on his shoulders, forgetting he was just a god in a mortal's body. He had a heart of gold, but not (really) the muscles to match it.

Bucky's blue eyes shifted away, uncertain. "I don't know if I'm worth all this to you," the man responded after a moment. Victoria rested a hand on his shoulder, dark orbs cast on the blonde maneuvering the jet. Of course Bucky was "worth all this."

"What you did all those years," came the reply, "it wasn't you. Either of you," Steve added, his head turned as much as possible. Victoria didn't respond, only looking at the ground. The tears in her dark pants revealed her scarring skin, dirtied with dried blood and debris. "You didn't have a choice," Steve murmured.

"I know. But I did it," Bucky said softly, voice devoid of emotion. Victoria exhaled through her nose, having no idea what to say. The two of them, they shared worlds of guilt on their shoulders, a weight that would never truly be taken away. It was a conceited, selfish thought, but she knew she didn't deserve this. No, no, the girl she'd been before hadn't deserved this. She'd been heroic, brave-trustworthy, everything she wasn't all these years later.

Silence fell between the trio, before Victoria got utterly sick of it and cracked her knuckles.

"It wasn't you, Bucky. It was your body, yes, but it wasn't your mind. You were a prisoner within yourself, and you know I'm talking from personal experience," she hissed, wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders. The cool metal tingled her skin, but she didn't move away an inch.

--

The skies were white, the ground coated in snow with dark grey rock peeking through. The cold even managed to chill her, but you couldn't tell by her blank face. There had, miraculously, been a small sink in the back of the plane. Her face had been scrubbed raw, leaving her ivory shaded skin pale but beautiful. Her short, wavy locks were slicked back with water and held in a neater, sustainable ponytail.

Clouds of snow blew around the jet, as far as she could see. James wordlessly stood up, approaching the hidden, miniature armory. She caught a glimpse of the last name on the back, with a small, unseen smile. They each picked something up, Steve, when asked, only glancing at them with his signature "Really?" look.

Victoria, Bucky, and Steve stood by each other as the hatch slowly opened, revealing the shining, cloud white ground.

"Remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" Steve asked, turning his head to look at the two. "Was that the time, we spent our train money on hotdogs?" Bucky reminisced with a smile. A grin spread across Victoria's face. "You blew 3 bucks tryin' to win that stuffed bear for that redhead," Steve informed him with a smile. "I was the only one who hit the damn target," Victoria laughed, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh stuff it, Scott. What was her name again?"

"Dolores, you called her Dot," Steve answered. "And I called her 'the girl with a temper matching her hair,'" Victoria quipped, smile only growing at Bucky's exasperated/fond look.

"She's gotta be, what, 100 years old by now," Bucky pondered, blue eyes somewhere far away. "So are we, pal," Steve responded, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Wow, ice sure does wonders for the skin," she said thoughtfully. Bucky let out a wheezy laugh, blue eyes twinkling as they flickered over to her.