101 Ways to Kill Bucky Barnes

Mr. Impossible to Kill

    You looked at Clint, his eyes baring into you. Your heart leapt as your vision focused on the cross street behind him. A big black SUV barreled through the red light, you didn't have much time to react. You grabbed Clint by his shirt and pulled him as hard toward you as possible to lessen the impact of the SUV to the door behind him.
The sound of glass exploding around you as the metal crumbled, slamming you into the side of the car as it rocked onto its side. Tires screeched as the metal made a high pitched twisting sound. Smoke curled in the cab of the vehicle you were in, the smell of burning rubber poured over you.
     You didn't wait, you slipped through the sun roof as the car you were in was on its side. Clint would be safe, they weren't after him, and for all they knew he was dead. It was best for his survival to get as far away from him as possible. This was your fuck up, and nobody else deserved to die because you couldn't finish the hit. You sprinted, head ducked, away from the car crash.
     Put as much distance between them and you, that's all you could think about. And a weapon, preferably one that fired objects at a high speed. But right know a sledge hammer would work. Anything would work as being empty handed was certainly not going to help this time. You hit the corner of the next building, hooking your fingers into the mortar between the bricks, pulling yourself into the turn.
   You straighten your body out as you ran down the street, you replayed the lay out of the city in your head and where you had stored weapons in random lockers in the off chance you found yourself over near there with the hit that you didn't hit. Fuck, the pretty boy was going to get you killed rather then the other way around. Should of found a way to push him off the bridge that first day.
    The glass shattered just ahead of your snapped you back to the deadly reality you currently were in.  You stopped dead in your tracks, took a deep breath and the careened into on coming traffic, rushing toward the other side of the road while zig zagging through the heavy car flow. You glanced over your shoulder once, long enough to see the three men branch out, all dress in black, all military looking. Well, isn't that just awesome.
     You saw the opening for the subway just ahead and sped up heading straight toward it. Please let the train be waiting was the only thing you kept repeating in your head as you traveled down the stairs as fast as you could, your hand gliding against the cold metal railing. The smell of must and sweat raising up to greet you as you proceeded further down to where the subway belong. People rushed up on the case next to you, you pushed those ahead of you out of the way, the further down the more people there seemed to be.
     You hit the bottom, people everywhere, so many possible casualties. Your heart beating furiously in your chest, a chunk of cement dislodged for the floor next to your left foot. You sprang forward surged forward by the will of hot metal and the drive to live. You jumped over the toll, and ran forward ignoring the bellows of the men taking money for tickets.
     The silencer must of been old, because you the sound of a muffled bullet just above the noise. It was sound nobody else noticed, pain exploded in your left calf as you raced towards the open door of the train in front of you.
——
    "Clint!" Steve yelled above the sirens, the clusters of people. Thick black smoke curled above the car wreck.
    "Over here!" Clint yelled back as he came limping around the corner away from the two twisted chunks of metal.
     "Where is she?" Bucky asked rushing toward Clint, blood dripped down the archers forehead.
"I'm fine, thanks for asking." He retorted, before hooking his head toward the opening toward where the subway was. "She ran down there, or at least that's where the guys that where shooting bullets at her went."
Bucky nodded before running back up the street toward his motorcycle.
"Certainly can pick them can't he." Clint stated, holding his side watching as Bucky rev the bike to life and shoot off down the street.
"That's if she doesn't get him killed first, come on." Steve replied, rushing up the street toward a car that was pulling up.
"Evening boys, looks like you had some fun with out me Clint." Natasha stated as they climbed in.
——
You had a chance to breath, and to regain your bearings, trying hard to ignore the warm liquid currently dripping down your lower leg and filling your shoe. If you get off at the next stop you should be close enough to secondary storage site, it held a couple of older guns. Ones that had been used by the KBG, ages ago, ones that yet again couldn't be traced you.
It also had the bike there, now you just needed another not so high profile route out of the city. If only you had hit him with ax, he would be dead and you would currently be dripping blood from a bullet wound on the subway train floor, yet here you were. In pain, running for your life, hoping nobody else dies because of your stupidity. Hoping like hell Bucky stayed as far away from this as possible so he wouldn't be caught in the cross fires. Him and his stupid pretty face.
The train rolled to a stop, and the doors slid open. You sprang out, knowing that by running it was causing your blood to pump harder, which meant you were loosing blood at a faster rate. Yet, you didn't slow as you took stairs two at a time heading up them hoping like hell men with guns wouldn't be waiting for you.
Just as you hit street level, someone hooked your arm and slammed you into the side of the metal grating the surround the opening in the street. Blues met yours, his grip tight on your arms, you could feel the gun strapped to thigh. When you thought about men with guns, you hadn't meant this one.
"Bucky?" You asked, bewildered.
"Here." He shoved the helmet into your hands as he pulled you by the crook of your elbow. "We have to get some place safe, and then we'll figure this out."
"I can't." You stated, guilt flooding you suddenly upon seeing him.
"Y/n, if I found you this easily so will they, come on." He stated, pulling you towards the sleak black bike.
"Bucky, you don't understand!" You pleaded.
"What? That you've been trying to kill, and horribly I might add." He retorted, shooting you a sly lopsided grin as he reached the bike. He swung his leg over it, and stared at you. "Now get on the bike and we will figure this all out."
"Well, if you would of died the first time, Mr Impossible To Kill, I wouldn't be in this mess." You snapped back.