"he looked at her
the way she needed to be looked at
like the whole world could crumble
and he wouldn't blink."
-atticus
In which a mercenary and a super soldier meet through extraordinary circumstances.
Marvel | Bucky Barnes
Cover by @blis...
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"My soul bleeds... and the blood steadily, silently, disturbingly slowly, swallows me whole." -Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Complete Letters
NADINE
Nadine didn't remember when she woke up.
She stood in the living room in Maricota. She didn't remember arriving, nor did she remember taking the tea cup currently in her hands. Looking around, everything was eerily empty, despite used plates and glasses being on the dining table.
"James?" Nadine called. No answer. Her shoulders tensed. Lapses in memory, thinking people were there but they weren't... was she losing her mind?
Placing the tea cup on the counter, she walked up the stairs as quick as she could, pausing at each of the rooms to look for signs of her friends. All rooms were vacant, but had the same, dreadful feeling of the dining table: lived-in beds, scattered shoes on the floor, recent dirt marks, among other things. Nadine made her way to her room, stopping cautiously as she noticed the door was slightly open. She raised her hands, using her foot to slowly push the door open so she could peak inside. A head of black hair stood out against the white of her duvet. Bucky.
"James?" she said as walked in, noticing him lying on his side. "James."
He was asleep, his face peaceful. Gone were the furrowed brows and deep frown that had plagued him as of late. Sighing in relief, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead, before walking back to the door, which she hadn't noticed had closed. When she opened it, it was like the air was punched out of her gut. Bodies were on the floor, blood staining the carpet. Emilia's eyes stared at her, lifeless and dull, throat slit. Kaia, beautiful Kaia's bruised body was propped against the wall, her white shirt stained crimson. Fong's corpse laid over Emilia's, and though she couldn't see his face, Nadine was sure he'd been shot in the head. Other bodies littered the hallway, faceless and unidentified, but gruesome nonetheless.
She clutched the wall to stop herself from keeling over and throwing up. She'd always said she wasn't spiritual, but this definitely resembled hell. It was the only thing that remotely made sense.
"You did this to them, Samira."
Jameson.
Her head shot up and she stared at him, standing in the middle of the bodies. His crooked smile was ominous on his new face, and he motioned to them, his foot nudging Emilia's body. "You killed them."
"No." Nadine shook her head, and quickly the motion became incessant, insistent, almost as if it could erase everything that happened. "No."
"You killed them," he repeated, but Nadine was panicking.
"No!" She turned back into the room and closed her eyes tight, her hands clutching her head as she tried to get rid of the memory that was seared into her mind. She didn't kill them. It was impossible. She didn't kill them.
