The Winter Wraith (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 23 - Lightning Song

Your journey from the file room to the Winter Soldier's door was a haze of sterile hallways and shadows looming around every corner. You weren't sure what was racing faster, your heart or your legs, as you fled to the Winter Soldier's room, the hounds of the last hour biting at your heels. Yet when the walls stopped blurring by and the ground ceased hurtling beneath your feet, your fist still hesitated at his door. Would he turn you away, call you crazy? He certainly wouldn't be the only soldier to think that about you. But no, not him. He would hear you out, at the very least, point out why the files you read couldn't be true. Or explain why they were.

Drawing in a deep breath, fighting the panic fizzing in your bloodstream, your fist connects with the steel. One, two, three knocks on his door. No more, no less, all evenly spaced apart.

No response. The metal door continues to stand stoic against your request. You're about to knock again when the thought occurs to you: He's probably locked in.

Cursing yourself for your stupidity, for risking spending even one more second out in the facility's halls, you lower your hand back to your side. Spinning on your heel, you manage all of two steps before a quiet whooshing sound draws you to a halt. Standing in the now open doorway, features carved into the impassive stare of a Hydra asset, is the Winter Soldier. Your Winter Soldier. His ocean eyes widen slightly as they come to rest on your retreating form, his icy expression melting into a delighted smile edged with confusion.

You were renowned for your ability to wield the power of words as skilfully as you would a dagger, and your next words were that of a master swordsman. "Hi."

"Hi?" He made the simple word sound like a question.

"So... I see that you can open your door." You bite your lip, trying to stop any more brilliant comments from escaping. Which might have worked, had the Winter Soldier's predatory gaze not tracked the movement, causing you to flush and the Winter Soldier to smirk.

But a creature of thought had been unleashed within you and was squirming in your stomach, chewing through your organs until it could burst from your mouth and into someone else's mind. It had its eyes on the Winter Soldier. Still, you were reluctant to douse his warm expression with an acidic bucket of truth. And so, you were content to yet again stall the inevitable in any way possible. It was starting to become a habit.

After what felt like an eternity—nowhere near long enough, in your opinion—the Winter Soldier set upon the task of continuing your stilted conversation with a response to your earlier observation. "Yeah, I just turn the handle and the door opens. Don't all doors work that way?"

"Not mine." Your heart was throwing itself against your ribcage, trying to put as much distance between it and the beast trudging around your chest. It pushed against your lungs, forcing the air out of them and leaving you struggling for breath. It was growing more urgent by the minute, yowling for release. Like all the truths, it would eventually find a way. It seemed even more enraged by the news unintentionally uncovered by the Winter Soldier: Hydra trusted him, and they didn't trust you. At least, not enough to leave your door unlocked.

"What do you-"

"Can I come in?" You cut him off. Clamping your mouth shut again, you beg the beast to wait just a few more seconds before it came flooding out.

The soldier's head tilts slightly at your question, angling towards the hallway. He then tips his head back towards his room, making clear his concern: cameras and microphones. But you had already made that mistake in the file room and had been reducing the electric current—lowering the quality—of any devices you had come across in the hallways. The same could be said for the cameras in the soldier's room—a significant amount less than yours, you noted —and any microphones close enough to pick up on even the softest of whispers. Locking eyes with the Winter Soldier, you shake your head slightly, erasing his concerns and confirming his suspicions: you weren't here on official business. Despite the work of your abilities, Hydra had taught you better than to voluntarily throw caution to the wind, so you position yourself just inside his doorway, avoiding the primary focus of the red blinking eyes lining his ceiling.