"he looked at her
the way she needed to be looked at
like the whole world could crumble
and he wouldn't blink."
-atticus
In which a mercenary and a super soldier meet through extraordinary circumstances.
Marvel | Bucky Barnes
Cover by @blis...
A/N: trigger warning- mentions of torture, drugs, murder. It's not incredibly gory, but I wanted to place a warning just in case.
Also really sorry that I didn't update so soon??? I kinda forgot about this story again ngl LMAOOO
Like this chapter was pretty much finished and I just.... paid no attention to it.
BUT HERE I AM
ALIVE
AND READY TO DELIVER
Enjoy!!
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"The bravest thing she ever did was to stay alive each day."
NADINE
The first thing that Nadine noticed when she woke up was that her headache was intense.
The second thing she realized? It was the only pain she felt at the moment.
Her vision didn't seem to settle no matter how much she rubbed her eyes. It was only when the lighting increased did she notice her white, fingerless sleeves. No, it couldn't be.
She looked around, and she was in a hallway, alone. Lights were blinking incessantly, almost ominously. She half expected a monster to pop up at the end of the hall. Her eyes shifted, her periphery affected with whatever she had in her system, and there was a mirror right next to her. Standing up slowly, she walked up to it, and there she was, covered in white and light grey. Her old suit, the first and last one she wore when she was under Jameson's control. Every detail, everything, was intact, down to the hole in the middle of her chest that slightly exposed her breasts. Sometimes she thought he left that part open just so he could have a decent bullseye when he decided to kill her. She was surprised it still fit, really.
Though, if she were being honest, Jameson would be sick enough to create a replica and force her to wear it.
Nadine was about to pull down the mask covering the lower half of her face -which resembled a muzzle, she realized- when she heard a door unlock a feet away from her.
Dante stepped into the hallway, dressed in an outfit similar to the one he wore when he became a mercenary. Cargo pants, a long sleeved shirt rolled to his elbows, a kevlar vest, and a scarf that had thin, orange detailing on it. His brown hair was cropped short and he shaved, which made him look younger, in her opinion. Despite the familiarity, however, his hazel eyes bore none of the kindness that she was used to.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyes flickering to the knife in his gloved hand. She noticed he also had a thigh holster with a handgun attached to it.
