Love & Bullets (bucky barnes x oc)

05: Her Past

TW: Flashbacks of emotional and physical abuse.

"What did you just say?" Barnes stammers through firm, gritted teeth.

"He- He was my husband, until we got divorced last year."

"Why would he want you dead?"

"Because..." You hesitate, "It's nothing-"

Barnes flashes the knife again, his grim voice sending a shiver down your spine, "Tell me."

"H-He abused me. Every day of our marriage, he took advantage of me. All he cared about was his business, his legacy, and I grew tired of it. So I fought back. Then..."

"Then what?"

"I knew I had to go, but I knew he would kill me if he caught me escaping. So, I waited until he left for his annual work trip. That's when I ran away. I had no intention of becoming a spy, but I wound up in Italy, where someone found me and took me to Russia, promising me a new life. There's this place called the 'Red Room'. They took me in and trained me-"

Barnes holds his hand up, "The 'Red Room'?"

You nod.

"Fuck."

〄

"Slow down, Barnes. What did she say?" Natasha tries to calm him down to no avail.

"She was trained in the Red Room. Where you were trained."

"WHAT?! " She bursts, pushing him out of the way and storming towards you.

She holds a knife to your neck, "Tell me everything. Now."

You whimper as she holds the knife closer to your skin, "O-Okay."

Barnes stands next to her as you explain everything to her for the second time.

"Barnes, get Rogers. We're in deep shit."

〄

"What do you mean 'She was trained in the Red Room?'" Rogers exclaims, looking down at you.

"Look, whatever you do, we can't have the Don knowing anything. He could have us killed for so many things at this point."

"Alright, Barnes. We won't tell him. What the fuck do we do now?"

You raise your eyebrow, "I have a suggestion: treat my leg."

Barnes rolls his eyes, "Oh, shut up. You should be grateful I didn't go for your head."

"At least I would be dead and not dying of blood loss, asshole." You spit out in anger.

He shakes his head, "I gotta go. You guys can handle her."

"Uh-uh. You're treating her wound, Barnes."

"Excuse me? Hell no, Rogers. I have places to be."

"And you think we don't? Get it done." Rogers and the rest of them exit the apartment, and you're left alone with Barnes, the man who shot you.

"God, I hate you so much right now." He rolls his eyes, crouching down to untie your legs from the chair.

"The feeling is mutual." You retort.

He pauses from untying your legs and looks up at you, "You're not going to kick me, are you?"

"If I did, you would deserve it. But, no, I'm not going to kick you."

He goes back to unraveling the knots. Slowly, you begin to feel the blood flow to your ankles now that the rope isn't tightened around them.

He drops the rope, letting it bounce on the floor, rising from your legs. He looks you up and down in your dress and messy hair. His eyes linger over your dress for a moment before breaking his gaze and reaching for the alcohol and cotton balls.