Doll: A Bucky Barnes FanFiction

Soldier

"Come, nurse, here is your first patient," the man led her down the hall, and she came to a room, where she heard the sounds of a dying man. She could not let him die, or she would be punished for disobeying a direct order to keep the man alive. She tried everything she could to plug the bullet hole that was allowing blood to seep into his lungs, but it had deeply damaged his body, and he was too weak to continue.

She had been desperate, she knew what came after the failure, so without thinking, and despite the protests of the doctors, she had ripped off her gloves and shoved her had into the man's chest cavity and plugged the hole with her own bare finger. She analyzed him from within, visualizing every atom that made up the tissues in his chest, and she thought about how to repair them when suddenly, she had felt the wound beginning to close up, exactly as she had thought.

Within seconds, the man was stable, and the bullet hole had been fixed. As she removed her hand, the doctors had looked at her in awe.

After that success, she had been poked and prodded to see how she had accomplished her task, but there was no rational answer, so they had frozen her. She didn't know how long she had been there for, but they had eventually honed her power, and she became the best doctor. They trained her in all things involving medicine and how to use her powers not just to heal but also to destroy, which turned her into the undercover perfect weapon.

"He's coming to you now," Russian came from over the com. The doctor was startled from her thoughts and looked down at her watch as she stood idly in a hospital, pretending to review a few documents.

Over the past few months, she had been posing a visiting doctor at the Parkland Memorial Hospital as the best trama and neuroscientist in the country. Hydra had planned for the assassination of the person of interest for months, and her partner had just shot him. It was the doctor's duty to ensure death.

"Is he dead?" The doctor asked, speaking quietly into her com and flashing a smile at one of the doctors who was passing her by.

"Almost," the voice responded. But before she could respond, a nurse came running towards her.

"Doctor Peters, the President has been shot," the nurse said breathlessly, using the doctor's alias. Most nurses looked up from their stations, and the hospital got dead quiet.

The doctor feigned surprise, before composing herself, jumping into action immediately, setting down the book in her hand.

"What happened? Where is he going?"

"Doctor, you're the one who's been summoned to operate on the President," the nurse said quietly. "They're transporting him here now. Dr. Perry will be in on the operation also. You have to hurry, he'll be here in three minutes."

The doctor nodded and began to race down the hallway to the trauma center, where the President was on his way. She began shouting orders down the hallway, instructing nurses to clear an Operating Room (OR) for an operation.

She quickly washed her hands, putting on a sterile uniform, and prepared to meet the vehicle outside. She was met by two nurses, and another trauma surgeon, who she could feel trembling beside her, but she shoved it to the back of her mind. She only had one job: to ensure the death of JFK, the President of the United States.

She watched as the police cars sped up to the entrance of the hospital, and from then on, it was chaos. She was so focused on the President that everything around her seemed to be shut out.

She noted the extent of his injuries as they made their way to the OR, and she knew that she would have to use a sleight of hand to make the damage worse, or else he might survive the operation.