8

She should not have trusted him.

He had lead her straight towards them, their backs faces them as they approached only to creep away and silently as they could before they heard the guards shouts. The best idea they could come up with was to sneak right out the back door, so that's exactly what they did.

Running out into the alleyway behind the museum and running for their lives before scaling a building a block over to rest on the rooftops. Torrance looked around, staring at the road from her spot perched on the ledge of the roof, hearing police sirens in the distance. 

"We need to move," she whispered, eyes still on the road as she watched the police cars finally rush past. "I think it's safe, we need to get back to Steve--"

"It's not safe," he said back and she turned around, her eyes following in the direction in which he was looking. She stopped, getting to her feet and narrowing her eyes at the dark figure standing and watching them on the neighboring rooftop. "We need to leave, now."

She stopped him, grabbing his arm and feeling the hardness of the metal underneath. "No, we let him come to us. I have a feeling it's just them."

Torrance's eyes didn't leave the figure, standing alone and grim against the dark backdrop of the sky behind them. She noticed something dark in their hands and she could only assume it was either a knife or a gun, but that didn't stop her from pulling hers from tucked in her waistband. 

"Show yourself!" she barked, glowering as the figured stepped forward and into the harsh light from the street lamps below, showing them his face. The man was bloody, disfigured and limping, a knife in his hands that glinted in the light. "Who are you? What do you want!?"

"I come bringing a message," he smiled gruesomely, showing them bloodied teeth as drool dropped from his mouth. His side was hideous, blood covering that hand that gripped himself, holding whatever was left underneath together. Muscle and flesh torn, a monster within a wound. "We will get our revenge, we will kill the Avengers. We will put an end to their reign and we will rise once again. Like a phoenix to the ash, we will rise and kill you all. But you, Anastasia Moroz, will die by the weeks end. And if what we know is true and you have come back to kill us all, then the next corpse to be reaped is yours. Be cautious, we lurk in the shadows. Hail Hydra."

Torrance raised her gun and Bucky did too, both of them acting as one as the bloodied man laughed. They fired together, watching blood erupt from the back of his head in a shower of red as he fell. Someone would find his body tomorrow or even tonight, but they would not link it back to them. 

They were never traced, they were never known. 

~

Torrance took him back to the motel, both of them moving slowly like in a trance. Torrance was afraid, afraid of what the man had said to her on the rooftop. She feared the worst, as always, her mind racing over the facts about whether or not she could truly die. Who would kill her? A friend? A foe?

She didn't know and a part of her never wanted too, but that twisted part that had returned with her memories, she laughed and knew who it would be even if she didn't. The shell of the woman she had been was laughing, pointing the finger, and Torrance was still just as blind as she always has been.

When they arrived back at the motel, she froze, blood running cold as she saw the door hanging off on its hinges. She held out her arm, stopping him from walking as she thought of the worst. She pulled her gun free of her waistband and stalked forward silently, pressing her back to the wall outside the motel room and taking a breath before spinning into the room, gun raised.

Blood was sprayed across the wall like someone had thrown a bucket of paint against it and a part of her feared it belonged to Steve; crimson, vibrant, America'a blood.

Please god, don't let it be his. 

She found her suit on the ground, unfazed by the ruin that was the room of the overturned couch and the torn to shreds mattress. She noticed bullet holes in the wall and wondered who had been standing here as the shot was fired. She lowered her gun and tucked it back into her waistband as she stood from a crouch.

"What the hell happened here?" Bucky asked from behind her as she ran a nervous hand through her hair. "I thought you said this was somewhere safe."

"Obviously not anymore," she snapped back, rubbing her temple. She was exhausted, her body begging for a nice place to sleep, to maybe even take a shower. She had killed more people in the past week than she had in the past twenty years. 

Would it get easier? she asked herself.

Always. Never.

She picked her suit off the ground and falling out of one of the pockets on the leg was a note. She bent over, unfolding the note and reading it to herself with a smile on her face.

Safe. With Tony. Meet in Jersey.

Underneath were coordinates and she grinned, folding the note and slipping it into the pocket of her jacket. "Steve is safe, we need to find him--"

"We can't go now," he said with a frown. "You don't know how many Hydra agents could be crawling around this place. They probably all saw us come in here--"

"Listen to me. We're two trained killers, what can they do that we can't?" she snapped back. They were falling back into their old behaviors, bickering with one another like an old couple they had fantasized about being one day. "The second they step foot in here, they're dead. It's as simple as that. So, we should stay the night, someone keeping watch every three hours and we leave at dawn."

"Were you always this bossy?" he asked with a smile. 

"Oh, I was always this bossy," she said with a wink. "You just never got to see it. Sucks that you're getting stuck with twenty-first century me." A smile flashed to her lips and their eyes met. "I'm more of a handful now."

~

The shower was warm against her skin as she scrubbed the blood up from underneath her fingernails. She had peeled the tape from her face, the wound already healing itself more than she thought. She had been afraid it wouldn't heal for days, her body was growing tired. It was old, she was old.

Water ran down her back and she brushed her hair from her face, exhaling as the steam built up around her like a cage. She thought back to Steve earlier in the bathroom, her hand going up to her lips and she wondered what life would've been if he had chosen her and she him. She ran her thumb over her bottom lip, trying to imagine how it had felt as her cheeks got red and she shook her head with a frown.

She couldn't. She wouldn't.

Steve took her hand. They were sitting close, knees touching as he put his head in one hand. "I hate this," he whispered, desperate. "I thought doing all of this would let me help people but I'm just some monkey in a costume--"

"It won't be like this for long," she whispered back, rubbing his back with her free hand. "You just need to show them what you're capable of."

"I thought I already had," he sighed. He was looking at her with pleading eyes, praying she would do something to help him but she didn't have a clue where to begin. "After Dr. Erskine was killed, I thought that was enough to show them that I can help. Instead, I'm prancing around singing on stage for children. You saw what the men in our regiment did when I came on stage. They threw tomatoes at me, Tor. Tomatoes."

She leaned into his touch as he brought his hand to her knee. She wrapped her arm around him, her hand brushing at the hair on the nape of his neck. He was warm, he was always so warm."They'll see how great you are, how much of an asset they've been missing soon, okay? I promise."

He looked at her and she him, his eyes wavering as they met her eyes and then dropped to her lips. Her heart was in her throat when she leaned closer, hesitating like she was, their noses bumping as she felt his breath hot against her cheeks. 

She brought her hand up to his face, not knowing whether or not to touch him as he got closer. When their lips did finally touch, it was like a sudden wave of relief fell over them. His shoulders dropped all tension and she sighed into his mouth as she cradled his face in her hands.

They kissed slowly, like they were unsure of themselves. His hand moved from her knee to her waist, deepening the kiss more as she placed a hand on his chest to slide up to his neck. He was the first to pull away, breathless and flushed as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. 

"We shouldn't," he whispered, looking back up at her and wiping his mouth. "We can't, not like this."

She nodded, fingers going to her lips. "We shouldn't."

Torrance turned the water off, ringing out her hair before grabbing a towel. She dried off and slipped back into her underwear and shirt, leaving the bathroom after hanging up her towel and freezing in the doorway.

He stood without his shirt on, back facing to her. The metal consumed his entire arm up into his shoulder and she wondered when he had lost it. Was it the fall? Or did Hydra take it from him themselves?

They tortured him, just like they did you. Monsters, monsters, we're all monsters--

She moved forward on shaky legs, reaching out and touching him with cold fingers. He froze as she ran her hand up his back and to his metal arm. His skin was warm and she expected the metal to be as well but it was cold, chilling her fingers. She traced the red star on the arm, feeling it ripple like it was alive, like it had a mind of its own, too.

"What happened to you?" she whispered. Not what did they do to you, not how did they rip you apart over and over? Just a simple, what happened to you, Bucky, what happened.

"The fall from the train took out my arm," he said in a gruff voice that belonged to him but at the same time didn't. "So, they gave me a new one."

"They tore you apart," she hissed in a soft voice, his back warm against her as she rested her forehead against his shoulder blades. "They hurt you--"

He moved, turning to face her, grabbing her wrists with his hands. "Why haven't you said my name? You look at me like you know me, but you touch me like you don't."

She shook her head, looking away. Steve kissed me, things are complicated, I didn't even know who I really was yesterday-- "All those years changed you, changed me. We aren't the same people we once were."

"We were going to get married," he whispered back, dropping his grip on her. He remembered, just like her, all the empty and unfulfilled promises. "After the war, we promised each other we would get married."

"I know," she said, voice cracking as she bit her lip. She sighed, running both hands over her face. This was her Bucky, the one she had loved, the one she was forced to forget. "But I thought you were dead, we all did. Steve and I grieved, we mourned for you. Now, you come back and I don't--" She sighed again. "--and I don't even recognize you. I-I need to relearn everything, we aren't the same people we once were. We aren't as young, we don't know each other like we used to."

"You trust me, don't you?" he whispered, taking her against him. There was a look in his eyes, one he only got when they were together and alone. This was him, her Bucky, standing and breathing and living.

She nodded. "Always have, always will."

He dipped his head, taking her face into his hands and kissing her. It was slow and calming, something they both had needed before she parted her lips and she was gone. It was easy to fall back into him, to suddenly forget all the trauma and pain, all the torture.

Pulling at her hair with his hand, she let out a breathy moan into his mouth as he moved her to the bed. She fell back onto the sheets he had put back on the bed while she had been in the shower, the mattress rough and uneven underneath her, but she was thankful there was one.

He was on top of her, sucking on her bottom lip, on her neck, below her collarbone, her hands running over his back. She wrapped a leg around him, keeping him close and warm against her, feeling every inch of him, as he breathed into her ear, "Say my name."

"Bucky," she whispered back, breathless.

"All of it."

"James--" She groaned when his hand lowered to her waist and then the even further. He was magic, he was gold, he was hers. "--Buchanan Barnes."

He kissed her again, taking her by the chin with his metal arm. She could've fallen in love with this new extension of him, how she knew he was being careful, gentle. Kissing her slow, she fell into a memory that radiated off him like an August heat.

"Marry me," he whispered to her. 

Her body was tucked under his arm, the sheets tangled around their torsos and she thought she had heard him wrong. Propping up on her elbow, she looked down at him and said, "What?"

He repeated himself with a grin, "Marry. Me."

"Bucky--" She laughed, hand on his chest. He grabbed it, holding her hand and running his fingers over her ring finger. It was bare and waiting, for him.

"After the war," he said to her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He had a boyish grin across his face still, a faraway twinkle in his eyes, "marry me, I can't stand the thought of loosing you. I need all of you."

"And here I thought you were just a player," she chirped, running fingers over his chin with a smirk. Hadn't Steve told her all about their days before the war? Dates to the fair, to little diners?

He grinned even bigger, taking her by the waist and flipping her so she laid out across the bed on her back. He kissed her gently on the lips, on her cheeks, and then her nose, hands moving up her waist to take hold of both of her hands, pressing them against the mattress. She smiled warmly and he mirrored her as she whispered, "Yes."

He furrowed his brows, only for a moment.

"I'll marry you," she whispered, reaching out and taking his face into her hands and wanting to stay in bed and trace the outlines of all the new beginnings on his body. His eyes were bright, his smile even wider as he kissed her like she had just promised him a life of complete luxury and fame, like she had gifted him something he thought he could never have. 

Torrance was breathless.

Her hands gripping her chest a she let out a little laugh, eyes on the ceiling before rolling over and looking at Bucky, his cheeks flushed. His chest was broad, arms bigger, body bigger than she had remembered. She knew Hydra manipulated him, turned him into something he's not, and it showed. He wasn't the young man she had known during the war, he was different...but so was she. Torrance couldn't help the little thought that ran through her, promising to explore every new inch of muscle and strength buried within him.

She rested on her side, the sheets tangled around her legs as she ran a hand over his chest. He was warm to the touch and he closed his eyes when she touched him, gently. Her hand moved up to his face, cupping his cheek in her hand and turning him to look at her, his eyes opening slowly. He blinked, as if she had never truly been there and he was shocked to see her. It was so easy to fall into him, to go back to the war and to when things were surprisingly more simple. She had been thinking of another man in the shower and she swallowed the guilt, the way it ate her up inside like a hungry little beast looking for more and more.

Those thoughts didn't stop her as she brought her head down, kissing his swollen lips softly before resting her face against his chest, his arms going around her automatically. The metal was cool against her skin, almost as cold as grabbing ice with bare hands, but she loved it. She loved the feeling of it against her, touching her, pulling her hair, wrapped around her pretty, little neck. She was completely hypnotized by the thing.

"What did Hydra do to you?" he whispered to her, breaking the silence. "What did they do to you after the war? What made the world completely forget you?"

"They wiped me," she said back, eyes focused on the old window curtains across the room. She kept her head down against his chest, finding comfort in the thought of hearing his heart beating. "They planted false memories into my brain, made me believe things that weren't true. Every memory about the war and about you and Steve was gone. I got them all back earlier tonight. I'm remembering things. Things I didn't have any recollection of before, like when you told me you loved me for the first time or-or when you asked me to marry you. I fall into these memories like I'm falling asleep."

"That's why you aren't in the exhibit."

She nodded against him. 

"So, you weren't with Steve all of this time?" he asked her, his hand drawling lazy circles on her side. "You were just...missing?"

"Sort of like that," she said in a tone that didn't sound quite like hers. "I was just missing."

"You could've died, Buck!" she shouted, pulling him astray from the pack as they made their way back to base camp. Steve had taken her right into Hydra territory, risking his life for his people, and she ran right after him. Bucky had been presumed dead, they all were, but here he was, standing before her. "You were missing."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" he murmured back. "It's not like I could've stopped myself from being imprisoned."

"Yes," she hissed under her breath, hitting his chest. "Yes, you could have stopped it!" She was being unreasonable but she couldn't help it. She had been plagued with thoughts of finding his body, of finding his lifeless eyes looking back up at her.

He huffed, looking away from her and back at the crowd of men following after Captain America, the man who finally found his footing in becoming a superhero. No more was he the puppet, a little dancing monkey. He was a man, a protector, a hero.

"We thought you had been killed," she breathed, not looking at him. Keeping her eyes trained on the trees, she fought back the emotion rising up in her throat. "We--" She sighed, shaking her head. "--we mourned for you."

He repeated himself in a gentler tone, taking her hand, "I'm here now, aren't I?"

~

Torrance woke up to Bucky nudging her gently. It was still dark out and she blinked hazily, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She must've fallen asleep soon after speaking to him about Hydra, not remembering much of what happened after she closed her eyes for those few short minutes that turned into hours. 

"Your turn to take watch," he mumbled, turning over onto his side and leaving her sitting up in the bed still disoriented from waking.

She slipped out of the bed, finding her clothes scattered across the floor, her shirt flung up against the television. She dressed silently before sitting down on one of the chairs facing the doorway. She watched it as if someone would walk in right now and find her there, innocent and with nothing to defend herself with. She rubbed her mouth, her mind flashing to Santiago and how his body was sprawled out across the floor by her feet. His blood still splattered across the toes of her boots. His blood forever etched into her skin and bones. 

"Heard you need a place to stay," the man behind the bar said to her after refilling her glass. "You're here more often than not, thought I'd ask if you want the upstairs apartment? Rent is two-fifty a month, thought I'd cut you down a hundred because of how much you spend here anyways. If you want the place, it's yours. Santi can give you a tour." He pointed to a man at the end of the bar holding a cosmopolitan in his hands. 

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, gripping her glass tightly in her hands. "It's not like we've ever spoken before now."

"You seem like someone who needs a break," he said with a shrug. "You look like the type of person who carries the entire world on your shoulders...and I saw you sleeping in your car last night."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You'd think with the job I have I could get a fancy place to stay, but once you spend it all on booze, it's hard to keep up with a nice place."

"Prove to me you can keep the place upstairs nice for a solid year, you can have six months free of rent," he told her, smiling. "Just go look, I promise you'll love it."

She stood, taking the last shot of her drink into her mouth and swallowing forcefully to try and avoid the burn and aftertaste, it never worked but it got rid of the drink faster. "I don't even know your name."

"Donnie," he smiled, sticking out his hand that she took and shook graciously. "You?"

"Torrance." His hand was warm in hers and she tried to ignore the pull and tug of her natural instincts telling her to read him like an open book and she almost got away with it, but not before getting a quick glimpse into his mind.

Help her, Donnie. She looks like a good girl, someone who needs my help. She has one of those badges, like the ones on television. S.H.I.E.L.D.

Help her because one day, maybe, she'll have to save you.

She met the man sitting at the other end of the bar, his drink gone and all that was left was the little lime in the bottom of the cup. He smiled wildly at her, wearing a pair of gloves. He stuck out an excited hand and she took it with a worried grin as he said proudly, "You must be the almost new owner of the beautiful apartment upstairs! I'm Santiago."

"Did Donnie tell you to act all giddy when I walked over here?" she asked with a sheepish grin.

Santiago let out a sigh of relief, letting his shoulder sag as he breathed out, "Yes. Thank God you're not one of those kinds of people who never stop talking up here and are always happy, happy, happy!" His voice rose an octave slightly and she laughed, shaking her head as she said, "Not at all. Usually I've kept to myself, but thought I'd reach out and actually, I don't know, speak to people for once."

"Do you really want to go upstairs and look at the apartment or can we stop here and have a couple more drinks and say you'll move in tomorrow?" he asked her, sitting back down in his seat.

"Get me a one of those drinks you were drinking earlier," she grinned. She wasn't one for the fruity drinks but there was always time to change that. She peered into her wallet, pulling out all the cash that was inside. As Santiago called over Donnie, she looked up and said to the two of them, "I have seventy-three bucks, can I pay you the rest tomorrow when I move in?"

She slid the cash over to Donnie and he took it with a grin, "Sounds perfect to me. Welcome to the bar, Torrance."

"Looks like we're going to be neighbors!" Santiago grinned, holding up a gloved hand as Donnie slid over their drinks. She wondered why his hands were gloved, it wasn't winter and it definitely wasn't cold in the bar. Could he be hiding something? Is he not who he says he is? Who is he really-- "Drink up! Rounds on me tonight! I just got myself a new neighbor, so you can go to fucking hell, Mitchell! Your rent means nothing compared to who we got now!"

Torrance got lost in her drink and the multiple shots that followed, that at the end of the night, she was sleeping on Santiago's couch like they had known each other their entire lives.

Torrance sighed, wondering if Santiago had known who she was before meeting her. 

Why be wearing gloves? When it wasn't cold out at all? Surely he couldn't have known about her abilities before they met, Donnie didn't, so she didn't expect anyone else in the bar too as well.

She needed to understand, how was he finding his information? Had it truly been people from the streets, people he corner and coerced into giving him the right information? Or was it because he was working for Hydra?

He wasn't working for Hydra, you idiot. Hydra killed him.

She could find his body, but there wasn't anything to tell from a body with no mind. No consciousness. She needed to ask Fury, she needed to do something. She could leave, go to the coroners office and try to see if the body gave her anything, but she couldn't leave Bucky here. Not when she didn't know who could be outside waiting for her. She couldn't risk it.

Could it have been a possibility that her trusted friend was working for some greater purpose? Had he been killed for the information he knew or because of his link to her?

Torrance rubbed her mouth, shaking her head. No, she thought. He wasn't killed because of her. She didn't get him killed. She didn't.

Even as she tried to convince herself of this, the little question kept raging back into focus.

Did she?

~

Morning came creeping in through the blinds as Torrance slid into her boots, locking and tying them tight into place. She grabbed her suit and stuffed it inside one of the pillow cases, using it to carry that and her extra gun. 

She nudged Bucky on the bed, touching his arm gently as he stirred. He looked so cute when he slept that it was almost a crime waking him up. Blinking away the sleep in his eyes, he smiled, his hand touching her waist. "Already that time?"

She nodded, motioning with her head for him to get up. "We have to meet Steve in Jersey."

"Jersey?"

She smiled. "The rest of the group went there after Hydra ambushed us at the new Avengers Facility. So, get dressed, we don't know how long it will take us to get there." She turned her back on him as he got out of the bed. She could hear him getting dressed and she wanted to turn around and say they could stay longer, forget the mission but she knew better. She always knew better, sometimes just not with him. Not all the time.

"You ready?" he asked, hand on her elbow as he approached her from behind. 

Nodding, she gave him a brilliant fake smile. "Let's go pick out our choice of ride."

They exited the motel room slowly, Torrance poking her head out first and looking for anyone with a gun pointed at her. All she saw was the empty strip mall across the street and the nearly vacant parking lot around them. 

"Think I already see our ride," Bucky said with a smile as they left the room and approached the car. 

On a normal day, she would never have chosen a car like this. They didn't need more eyes on them, even more people looking their way. But she couldn't help herself when temptation presented herself so beautifully before her.

"Who in their right mind would spend the night at a greasy motel when they have this type of car?" Torrance gaped, running her fingers along the sleekness of the hood. "It's a fucking Bugatti."

She looked around with a grin, not seeing a person in sight before she drove her fist into the back window, the alarms already sounding as she unlocked the drivers seat and got to work. She ignored the new cuts she acquired across her knuckles, split and bleeding. Popping the hood was easy and pulling the cord on the alarm was even easier as Bucky got into the passenger seat as she hot wired the car.

It was only when she got inside as the car roared angrily to life did she see an angry woman come out of one of the rooms on the second floor, waving her hands and yelling indistinctly. Torrance smiled, pressing the gas as she skidded out of the parking lot and onto the road, the car accelerating to seventy in seconds and then to ninety. 

She passed the note she kept from Steve to Bucky, "Put the coordinates into the cars GPS, will ya?"

He nodded, hand hovering over the control panel in front of him as she veered into the right lane to merge onto the highway. She was familiar with the roots to New Jersey, but she didn't have a clue where the exact location Steve wanted her to be. She sighed, pressing the small GPS button, "Just type the number in, okay?"

He did as he was told, with little difficulty this time. The car spoke back to her, the GPs telling her to merge left and continue for a hundred thirty miles until she had to merge again and again and again.

The car glided across the road as she pressed the gas harder, smiling wickedly. She touched the controls and turned the music on, flipping to a better station as music blared loudly and she could only smile wider, loving the thrill of speeding and stealing. She had alway been a thief, but doing it in broad daylight was even better.

She got out of the car, long black dress hiked up around her thighs as she exited carefully. She let the dress fall back down her legs, her hand across her eyes to keep the lights from blinding her as people shouted for pictures. Her brunette wig was itchy and she prayed no one recognized her, thinking she was just another girl on the arm of a tech billionaire. Just another pretty face. 

She kept her face covered, bringing up the little bag she carried to shield herself entirely as they entered the building, hoping people only thought she was shy or didn't want her face plastered in some newspaper the next morning.

"You are to stay by my side, yes?" Louis Champaine said to her with a wink. "My event, I must have a beautiful woman on my arm."

She gave him a subtle smile, bringing her purse away from her face. "Of course."

"Maybe later you can show me how you Russians enjoy a nice cocktail, oui?" he said to her, grinning sickly too himself as she pressed harder with her smile. He was, obviously, trying to get her into bed and had started his advances two days prior when she accidentally stopped him in a little restaurant.

He lead her to the other guests as a soft music played in the background and she wondered when she would finally have her time alone with him. She couldn't wait to break him in like the others, to leave the next day as if she was never there in the first place. She always did like the mystery to it all, the wonder, the curiosity it brought on.

She was handed a glass and she sipped at it lightly, feeling the alcohol run warm down her throat and right into her stomach. Louis had turned his back to her, smiling at another woman across the room as she popped open her ring, pouring the contents into his glass before he turned around. When he did turn, he smiled to her and took a long sip from his drink, his hand sliding to her back and holding her tightly against him. His fingers splayed against the lower back, inching lower and lower like worms.

Walking across the room to greet another man who would give Louis the rights to a major project for the French, she watched him freeze, eyes wide and blinking. "Je ne sais pas, j'ai la tête qui tourne-pardon-"

"Mr. Champaine, are you alright?" she cooed, taking his arm. 

"Oui-yes. Come, let's freshen up a bit--" He guided her towards the restrooms and she helped him walk as he stumbled. He fell into the door of the men's restroom and she followed, turning to lock the door as he gripped the sink. "Something is wrong."

"I think you're just stressed, Mr. Champaine," she said with a tight smile, pulling her dress up slightly. "Maybe I can find a way to...relieve you."

He breathed heavily, turning to look at her as he leaned against the sink. "What do you have in mind?"

She slid her hand up her thigh, her hands circling around the knife she had strapped to her thigh before arriving with him. She gripped it and pulled it out, spinning it comfortably in her hands as she stared down him. "Tell me where I can find the blueprints for the new project, tell me what you plan on doing?"

He laughed, sweating beading down his forehead and the sides of his face. "What-what the hell-do you think you're doing?" He was out of breath, he would pass out sooner or later.

"Tell me what I want to know and I'll let you leave here tonight alive."

He laughed again, throwing his head back and letting out multiple wild cackles before she swung. The knife caught his cheek and she watched his head fly to the side, blood running down his cheek. She had hoped he would be smarter than this, that she wouldn't have to cut him open but nothing was ever simple. He had certainly stopped laughing now though, holding his face in shock. "It's in my brief case, at home! And-and-they plan on using the hospital for a base camp for the war and after we plan on using it to conduct-trials--"

"Trials for what?"

"The Super Solider Serum," he whispered, blinking rapidly. "There have been reports, been circling around the world, helping les gens-the people-turning them into soldiers. We need soldiers for la guerre. Nous avons besoin-we need soldiers to win! Hydra-they come--"

She grabbed him by the shirt collar, slamming his head back and into the mirror, the glass shattering as he collapsed to the ground. He held himself up on one elbow, looking up at her through bloodied lashes as his forehead bled down his puffy face. 

"Why are you doing this?" he asked her, pleading for his life. 

She always liked when they begged.

She stood above him, pushing him onto his back. She placed a heeled foot on his chest as he gasped for air as the drug began to take into its true affects. "I must protect the world from what it will create. The pain is too great, the serum ends with me. It ends with Hydra."

He tried to touch her leg, gripping her ankle, but she pressed harder into his chest with a grin as he asked, "Who are you?"

She smiled brighter, twirling her knife. "Anastasia Moroz, hail Hydra." She plunged the knife into his chest as he gasped. She brought it down two more times upon him, watching the blood spread out across his shirt, his eyes staring vacantly up at the ceiling.

She stood, cleaning her knife off with one of the hand towels in the restroom before sliding it back into place on her thigh. She pulled the wig from her head, fixing her blonde hair in the mirror and running her finger under her lips to fix the smears of lipstick across her cheek.

Smiling once and puffing up her hair, she left the restroom like she had never even been there. Letting the only sound be her heels clicking across the hall as the body in the bathroom would be found thirty minutes later, when she was already long gone. No one would suspect her, she was a ghost.

A nobody.

~

Torrance gripped the steering wheel tighter in her hands as she weaved in and out of passing cars, finding her way down the busy highway. They were already thirty minutes out from their meeting spot and she was getting antsy being the in the car for so long.

She drummed her fingers against the wheel, glancing over at Bucky who didn't seem all that thrilled to be in the car with her. "Hey, you alright--" She didn't get to finish her sentence before a phone began to ring inside the car, the sound coming straight from the control panel. 

Torrance was going to hit decline but Bucky beat her to it, pressing answer. He spoke first, giving her a smile like they were going to have some fun, but the voice sent them with a look of panic as the voice spoke in Russian, words they both knew too well in English, "Longing."

"What the hell?" Torrance whispered, trying to hit end call, but the car was glitching. The screen malfunctioning, flashing colorful lines.

"Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak."

Bucky had his hands over his ears, screaming. "Shut up! Shut it off!" His face was scrunched up, his breathing sharp and short.

Torrance kept one hand on the wheel and the other trying to kill the volume, but the car was fighting back against her. Stupid, stupid! She cursed herself for choosing the better car, this would never have happened if she had just chosen some random old model--

The voice had a deep Russian accent and Torrance could only assume it was Hydra. "Seventeen."

"I can't turn it off!" she screamed, slamming her fist into the panel, the screen cracking but the voice still very clear as it rang out with the sixth trigger word, "Benign."

Bucky let go of his ears, slamming his head against the window as he opened his mouth and let out a blood curdling scream. She was shaking, not knowing what to do to help besides slam her fist over and over into the glass, but the car was no longer theirs. 

"Nine. Homecoming. One."

Bucky's eyes were already becoming glassy, his screaming more desperate as the last word was said with a sickening tone of happiness on the tongue. 

"Home." The voice followed up with a deep laugh, "Good morning, soldier."

She looked at Bucky, afraid of what would happen if the voice kept speaking. 

"Ready to comply," he responded in Russian and Torrance's blood went cold.

"Bucky," she whispered, trying to keep her eyes on the road as she weaved in between cars to get to the front of the pack up ahead. "Please."

"Crash the car," the voice said. "And kill her."

She tried to swing at him, get the upper hand before things escalated. She hit his chest, hearing the thunk as she tried to keep him back in his seat. He was eerily calm sitting next to her before he wasn't. Like a sleeping monster waiting for the perfect moment to strike, to kill.

He grabbed the steering wheel, turning it rapidly towards him as the car skidded sideways across the road. Torrance couldn't keep her screams in as she wailed, trying to fight his pull to keep the car straight and most importantly upright on the road. She didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to stop it so she tried to reach behind her, to grab her gun that was tucked against her back and her jeans but his pull was stronger than she anticipated. 

He always was stronger than her.

Her fingers circled around the grip of the gun and she pulled it out just as he got the upper hand, pulling the wheel harder and faster, the car turning on the highway at high speeds. She slammed her foot against the breaks as the car hit the side bumper of the highway and that was all it took, the caring upturning in the air, Torrance's body slamming into the window as the car flipped, her gun going off towards him.

She was slammed against every hard surface of the car as the air bags went off, ramming harder into her like getting punched in the face with a bettering ram. She kept her gun tight in her hands, smelling gunpowder and gasoline as Bucky held onto his seatbelt and his seat, almost staying completely still as she opened her mouth to scream something as her head slammed backwards and then forward against, her eye sight going blurry.

When she woke up, she was lying inside the car, the vehicle lying comfortable on its back. Her head was pressed against the roof of the car and she was bleeding. She didn't know from where yet, but it was all over her, splattered and seeping and soaking through her. The gun was next to her on the ceiling above the passenger seat and Bucky was nowhere in sight, his door hanging off on its hinges.

Broken glass was all around her and she pulled at her seatbelt, struggling to get out, her head still spinning. She found the clasp of her seatbelt and clicked it, being released harder into the ceiling than she expected, her body bent a weird way as she tried to straighten up. Her leg was burning underneath the steering wheel and she feared that it was broken as she prodded the car to try and get out easier. Her hands found the broken glass easily and she winced, cutting her hand. 

The windows were shattered, so she had a way to get out, it just wouldn't be clean. She grabbed her gun, sliding it out of the car and grabbing her pillowcase filled with her belongings and throwing it out of the car too. She groped her seat, finding the adjusters and sliding it back, her seat reclining against her. She was lying nearly flat against the roof of the car as she crawled out from the car and through the broken crushed window.

Once her body was out, she realized her leg was indeed broken. She sat up in the road, cars lined up behind her and people pulled over to try and help as she gripped the broken and already bruising leg, snapping it back into place with a painful yell that left her sitting on the road holding her face in her hands to stop from crying. Black dots threatened her vision but she had more things to worry about that passing out and a broken leg. She grabbed her pillowcase and her gun, looking up and noticing a body laying on the ground a few feet from her, holding its head and groaning.

She gripped her gun tighter in her hand as she got to her feet, shocked she could even stand. You're a machine, you're a machine--

 She limped, dragging her leg that would heal sooner rather than later behind her as she walked. It was easy to ignore the pain, she'd been built to ignore the sting, the burn, the ache. She held her side with her hand gripping the pillowcase, her clothes covered in blood and shards of glass as she stood above him.

"Get up," she hissed, aiming her gun at him.

He looked up at her, blinking and still holding his head. "It's me--"

She shot him. 

Blame it on her rage and anger issues, but she saw him looking up at her and she couldn't help it. He would heal just fine but it gave her a small throb of satisfaction to see him in pain. She, yes again, blamed this on her major anger issues.

He was seething, clutching at his shoulder. "What the hell?!" She stood in a trance, dazed and exhausted as she stared at him. He had blood showing through his shirt where she had aimed, a little hole bleeding as he gritted his teeth in pain. 

Pain, pain, pain, not enough of it to go around it seems.

"Get up," she snapped, knowing he was out of the trance but still very much pissed. "You're driving the rest of the way. Up. Now."

He got up slowly, walking fine compared to her as she fished out her badge from the pillow case to show some poor suburban mother that they needed to steal her car to get to Jersey. She kept her gun in her hand as she approached one of the cars that had pulled over to help and she flashed the badge, "Sorry ma'am, but we need your car."

__________

eeee u get a little sexy cute scene and then anger....seems about right for them haha

comment/vote or bucky will flip ur car too