One Shots & Imagines | Sebastian Stan, Bucky Barnes- Plus More!

It's Still Cool [Bucky Barnes]

Clara had been tasked with a mission. Get into the building unseen, plant the device. Get out... alive.

*A deafening explosion sounds*

Clara's ears were ringing, her vision distorted. On her hands and knees she tries to navigate her surroundings but the air was thick and heavy.

Hot seering flames surround her, licking at the walls like a fiery demon.
There was no way out, the building was quickly collapsing around her.

The device had detonated too early.

"Oh shit! The buildings coming down. I can't get out, I'm trapped. You need to leave, go now!" She shouts into her communication device.

"Clara can you hear me?" Someone replies, their voice soft yet full of concern.

The fumes and smoke were burning her throat and lungs. Her eyes were stinging from the ash and smoke in the air. Coughing and spluttering, Clara tried to get low to the ground to find fresher air but it was no use, as the ash settled she inhaled it. She was most definitely trapped.

Clara was on the edge of passing out, the oxygen around her being eaten by the flames.
A crackling sounds in her ear piece, someone was trying to communicate but she couldn't make out what they were saying.
She loses consciousness. Her head hits the floor with a harsh thud.

Coming round a few seconds later, coughing and sucking in a deep breath as she feels a breeze of fresher air pass her face. She can just make out the glint of metal in her peripheral vision.

Bucky. He's there to save her.

His eyes scan the room eventually finding hers, he makes his way towards her, taking long purposeful strides.

"Clara?" He says, concerned, leaning over her.
He lightly shakes her body, willing her to respond. She doesn't reply, she can't think straight, her brain starved of oxygen. Clara's reddened eyes stare straight ahead as if she's in a daydream.

"Clara? Come on, let's get you out of here."

Bucky gently picks up his weak friend, holding her in his arms. He's determined to get her to safety.
He carries her through a door, one he had blasted aside to get to her. He's careful as he goes, the floor creaking beneath his feet.

"It's still cool." She says groggily; her voice hoarse, feeling his metal arm through her clothes.

He looks down at her, concern etched on his face. A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes in her delicate features, all of which are covered in black smudges.

One of Clara's hands find it's way to the front of Bucky's t-shirt where she balls it up into her fist. His dog tags sat underneath, these also make their way into her hands. Clara can feel the engraved metal beneath her fingers and fiddles with them, seeking comfort. Bucky sighs.
Her grip slackens suddenly and Bucky becomes increasingly worried.
They're almost out of the building.

"Clara don't fall asleep. I need you to talk to me." He looks down at her, he could've sworn her skin looked pale blue in colour.

"Hey. Do you remember that time we first met. There was snow on the ground that day. Do you remember? Clara?" Bucky asks, his voice urgent.
The building crumbles and collapses behind him, dust clouds fill the air as he sprints away from the debris.

He looks down at her again, he can see she's hit her head, the blood congealed in her hair.

"I'm sorry." She manages to whisper. Her red rimmed but still green eyes, flicker to look up into his briefly before slowly closing.

Rushing onto the jet Bucky fiercely calls out Sam's name.

"Lay her down there. She looks pretty beat up, she's probably inhaled alot of smoke." Sam directs Bucky to a bed.

"She shouldn't have gone in there alone." Bucky mutters to himself.

"She knew what she was doing buddy." Sam says, placing a hand briefly on Bucky's shoulder before getting to work.

Clara's slackened hand slides away from Bucky's shirt and tags as he places her down, her head lolling to the side.
Sam hooks her up quickly, pulling an oxygen mask carefully over her face.

Taking off his tags, Bucky places them back into Clara's fist, his hands rest over the top of hers. The thumb from his metal appendage rubbed cool circles against her skin.

He watches on worried for Clara as they attempt to heal her.