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Part Two

Bucky woke in a cold sweat.

He reached blindly for her before he'd remembered. He fucked it all up. Again. How could he be so careless with his words? How could he hurt the woman that he claimed to love more than life itself?

He rolled out of the bed and reached for his sweatpants, putting them on almost absentmindedly. His train of thoughts was derailed. Panic swelled in his chest. Russia. Fucking Hydra. Why has she done it?

****

He scrubbed his face, trying to wake up. His eyes flickered over to the photo on the nightstand. She looked like a goddess. The golden gown hugged every curve of her perfect body. It was the night he proposed.

She came down the stairs, her red lips curled in a Cheshire Cat-like smile. Her hand trailed down the banister as their eyes locked together. His breath hitched, his heart hammered.

He played with the ring box in his pocket. The most perfect shade of robin's egg blue. He knew she'd be over the moon, she'd always stopped to admire whatever was on display in the window when they passed by.

He stepped forward and wrapped the metal arm around her waist, tugging her close and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth as to not disturb the perfect makeup. He took her in with a shameless glance, the way the gown caressed every inch.

He certainly had plans for later on.

They danced until they were dizzy, so he offered fresh air, leading her out on the balcony. The New York skyline loomed from across the water, the moonlight hitting her features just right, she looked almost celestial. He was smitten.

"You're some kinda dame," he chuckled, pulling her into his side, kissing down the column of her neck. The sweet perfume hit his nose and he sighed against her soft skin. He wanted forever with this woman.

She beamed when he dropped to one knee, promising a lifetime of happiness if only she'd be his bride, be his one and only. His absolute forever. She cried and uttered a soft 'yes.'

He held her close that night, making her come over and over. Making her cry out his name. She made the most beautiful sounds for him. She was addictive in the best kind of way. He'd never get enough.

****

He flicked open his phone and sighed in disappointment. Of course she hadn't texted back. Was it because she was working? Or because she simply didn't want anything to do with him anymore? The idea made him want to throw up.

He padded to the shower, adjusting the temperature before shedding his pants and boxers. Stepping in, he took a heavy breath. His heart ached for her, for his Sparrow. His love. His forever. His wife.

Bucky put his hand on the wall to brace himself. He could feel it coming, the inevitable breakdown. The one that had been building up since the afternoon she left, the argument still echoing in his head. What was wrong with him?

He let the water wash over him, trying so hard to just wash it all away. All of it. Every fucking last bit. Then maybe he'd just wake up and it had all been just a really bad dream. That she'd be there and they'd be fine.

God, he loved her. Physically ached for her. Heart, mind, soul and body. Every last part of him belonged to her. His Frankie. His beautiful little Sparrow. His tiny bird.

****

He pulled his wet hair into a bun and dropped back down on the mattress. The bed felt too big, too damn cold without her in it. He closed his eyes. He could hear her laugh in his head. So infectious, ringing like a bell. She was a queen.

He just wanted to sleep again. To dream about his girl. To hold her close, tell her how much he adored her. How much he needed her. How he ached for her even when she was beside him. But he ruined it. Or did he?

The tears ran heavy and hot. Just like they always did. He missed her so badly that he felt like he might actually die from it. You could die from a broken heart, couldn't you? If you could, Bucky certainly would.

"Frankie," he whispered in the dark like a silent prayer. All he needed. All he wanted. All that mattered. His everything. His light in the darkness. His world. His bride.

****

She fought them.

She gave it a good run. But ten on one left her outmatched by a mile.

"Bucky," she breathed as they strapped her to the chair. Not again. Oh god, not this again. Fear in her voice, in her emerald eyes. Tears streamed down. She prayed someone would come for her. But no one was coming.

Not this time.

"Good to see you, Agent Barnes," he cooed in an oily tone. It made her stomach turn, her blood boil with rage.

"Я собираюсь порвать ты отдельно." 'I'm gonna rip you apart.'

He chuckled darkly.

"Still remember your Russian. Good girl, good little птица." 'Bird'

She sneered, her hands clenched. Ready to pull the place piece by piece. He tsked, walking around to face her. The words rolled off of his tongue with ease and she cried, begging him to please, please fucking atop. She didn't want this. Not again.

"Готовы подчиниться, солдат?" 'Ready to comply, Soldier?'

Her eyes were blank, devoid of all emotion as she looked up at him and nodded curtly.

"Моя миссия?" 'My mission?'

"Мстители." 'The Avengers."