Edelweiss || Bucky x Reader

Chapter Sixteen

"What the hell does that mean?" I ask quickly, suddenly alert.

"How should I know?" Bucky responds, pulling at his restraints. Whatever it is, alarms are never good.

Just then the door swings open. The sound of the handle hitting the wall rings throughout the room.

"I don't care!" Shouts one person to another as he runs into the room. No— he runs into the room.

"Edelweiss, we need to go now or you will die." He says quickly, undoing my arm closest to Bucky.

"The hell did you just call her?" Bucky snaps at him. As if he's in any position to do something about it. It doesn't matter much though, I do it for him.

My hand now free, I shoot it up into his nose. A nauseating crunch is heard throughout the room. His hands fly to his face and he glares at me.

"I will die twelve times over before I let you be the reason I live." I say quietly, so that he's the only one who hears me.

"Soldier!" The other man barks at him.

"Then die!" He shouts at me, deciding I'm not worth it. I hear the door open again and their booted feet sprint out of the room.

I hear it open. I do not hear it close. That simple fact restores the little hope I need to get us out of here.

Although I have my hand free, the other restraints are locked in, which means I need something to use as a makeshift key.

"Ok, ok, this is fine I just need a hairpin... I have one, I know it." I say to myself, searching the pockets of Bucky's stolen uniform, despite never having picked a lock before. Deafening explosions can be heard just beyond our room.

"Y/N," Bucky says weakly.

"Hush, I need to focus." I shush him, now pulling at the strap around my neck. "I could maybe just rip these off, but I don't think I have the leverage-"

"Y/N, please." he says.

"Dammit, Buck! We're getting out!" I burst out. Turning to him, I meet his eyes. "You promised." I feel myself tear up as the building falls around us. "You promised."

He stares up at me silently with the most heartbroken look on his face. He says with just his eyes what we both know.

We're not getting out of here.

I let myself drop back down to the table, defeated. At a loss for words, I stretch out my arm and place my hand in his, intertwining our fingers.

After a moment, I speak. "I just...I just hope they find us, you know?" I say with a sniff, choking back tears. "For Steve's sake." Bucky squeezes my hand without a word. He keeps his fear under lock and key, even at the end.

"Just sleep, doll." He says quietly, the same way he did our first day here together. His voice cracks. I know he's afraid. "I'm right here. Just go ahead and sleep."

It's over. No more pain. No more torture.

I feel the sedative taking over, dragging my eyelids down.

God, I'm so tired.

...

Where am I?

My body is sore and I'm nursing a massive headache. Confused and disoriented, my mind is a fuzz.

Am I dead?

I hear a muffled voice speaking near me.

With a considerable amount of effort I open my eyes. I'm staring up at a concrete ceiling. Something has bound me to a hard, uncomfortable surface. And then it all comes flooding back.

Suddenly I can think again. I'm breathing. I'm alive. Panic-induced adrenaline replaces confusion in an instant. My head flies to where Bucky is lying, our hands still linked. I take my hand a push myself up. As my vision comes into focus I see a tall blonde man is standing over him with his back to me.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!" I scream at the stranger, a fierce protectiveness burning in my chest. He freezes. Turning to face me, his face is twisted in confusion and fear. My jaw drops as I realize who I'm looking at, and the air is ripped from my lungs.

"Steve?" I whisper. This man can't be my brother, but he sure as hell can't be anyone else.

He's beside me in an instant, obviously still processing the fact I'm here and not at home. I watch in awe as this man rips off my restraints one-handedly without breaking a sweat. I jump into his arms spewing a bunch of mushy gibberish about how much I missed him and how worried I was and how stupid he'd been, but mostly how much I love him. He laughs and hugs me tight, just like he always has.

"Y/N?" Bucky says, half awake.

"Shit, Right," I say, suddenly remembering our situation. Letting go of Steve, I tear off Bucky's restraints.

Steve stares, equally bewildered as I had been. "Since when can you-"

"SINCE WHEN CAN YOU, STEVE?"

He shuts up after that. We get Buck out of his restraints and carry him out into the hall.

"I've got him, go join the others!"

"Others? I'm not leaving you-" I start to say in protest.

"We don't have time!" He shouts, already going the other direction with Bucky's arm around his shoulders. "They'll need your help, go!"

I shake my head and go sprinting down the hallway, turning corners and trying doors until I finally find the one I came through nearly a month ago. I burst through it, only to be greeted by a full-blown battle between hydra soldiers and some 400 US prisoners.

The good news: it looks like we're winning. The Bad news: I don't have a gun. More good news: these fragile henchmen with their backs to me aren't suspecting a thing.

I go up behind one of them, knock him out, and grab his weapons. I steal a handgun from a holster on his hip and a knife tucked in his boot. Shoot to wound, I think to myself before tucking the gun into my waistband and making a break for it.

As I run into the heat of the battle, one of the Americans aims his rifle at me.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm from Brooklyn!" I shout at him, hands raised, holding up Bucky's dog tags. He looks slightly confused, but seems satisfied enough as he gets back to firing at hydra goons.

"I'm with the 107th in the Army Nurse Corps," I shout to him. "Where are your wounded?" He gestures vaguely in response and returns to shooting. With no time to spare I sigh, put my head down, and run to the first body I see. Some men are already dead, some I can't save, but the ones I can I do. As the battle rages around me, I race death treating gunshot wounds, creating makeshift bandages, and instructing others what to do when I cannot do it myself.

And this. This is what I was meant for. To be a promise of one more day, of just a little longer. A promise of help.

Of hope.

This is what I was meant for.