Marvel: One shots

Bionic- B.B

You joined the army when you were eighteen. You had left school and had no idea what you wanted to do, so you did what your dad did.

You were great at shooting; you were an excellent marksman. Your dad taught you at a young age, since, after he retired from the army, he ran a shooting range. He taught you and your brother how to shoot.

By age twenty, you were running your own squad of men and women into the war. You were in charge of helping villages and small towns, killing the bad guys. It was never easy; the number of times you woke up crying was uncountable. You mostly cried about the men, women and children you could have saved if you got to the bad guys sooner.

By age 25, you got a medal of honour for your act of bravery. This came at a cost. You lost your left leg and your left arm. You blocked a bomb using a scrap piece of metal so it wouldn't badly injure your squad. You now could no longer be in the army.

Age 28 you could now walk and run, and they tried to get you a hand, but you couldn't afford to buy both. You sometimes struggled, not being able to use the left side of your body as much as you used to. You didn't like the scars that splattered over your left side where pieces of shrapnel pierced your skin.

One day you saw a leaflet for a group of ex-army people, veterans, to just talk. You decided you'd go along. You forced your brother to let you go by yourself; he'd been overprotective ever since the accident.

You walked in and saw that, at the session, they were all male. You got deterred, but you sucked it up and walked in. A man stood up and walked over to you with a kind smile. "My name is Sam Wilson; I run this group" he smiled, holding out his hand.

"I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," you say, shaking his hand.

He led you to a seat, and the session began. Sam introduced you and asked if you'd like to share anything. You told them what part of the army you were in, and you told them how you lost your arm and leg. There was a man there who was in a similar situation.

You listened to the other men, they talked about regular things, sometimes remembering stories from their time in active duty. It was nice not being forced to talk and to listen.

Soon time was up, and you felt a little sad, you wanted it to carry on. You waited until everyone left before standing up, you helped pack the chairs away. "Are you alright?" Sam questioned kindly.

"I'm not sure," you say truthfully. "I want my arm back, it's silly, but I feel like I'm not whole. And that seems selfish as many others are like me, but I want it back" you fell to your knees crying.

Sam knelt and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I think I know someone who might be able to get you an arm," Sam said, you looked up, shaking your head and then wiping your eyes.

"I can't afford to get an arm. I'm living with my brother, and I haven't got a job, no one will hire a half missing person."

"Don't think of yourself like that, Y/N. You're all still there, you know, I want you to meet one of my friends. He has lost an arm, and he's not deterred from it."

"Sam, thanks but honestly I'm fine. Just, forget that I ever said anything" you got to your feet, slightly wobbly.

"Listen, if you need anything, I'll help you. It's what I- we do" he said, "look, the person who I know who can get you an arm, we could go there now and talk to him."

"Sam, I told you. I can't afford it."

"Don't worry about that, just, will you go see him?"

"I've got nothing else to do," you say.