𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 | barnes¹

xix. torn apart

But the longer that he held onto her, the more real she felt.

And Lucy was coming to the same conclusion.

Without another word, Bucky finally leaned forward and captured her lips with his own, his heart torn between soaring and sinking at the feeling.

Lucy wrapped her arms around Bucky's neck, a tear escaping her eye as they broke apart. "You are real," she murmured with a sad smile.

She had been sheepishly hoping that her and Howard's work would somehow bring them to wherever the 107th Infantry was stationed. Dreams about the look of surprise on Bucky's face as he picked her up and spun her around taunted her each and every day.

Be careful what you wish for had never been more painstakingly true.

Bucky let a pained expression overcome his face. He carded his fingers through her hair, pressing a sincere kiss to her temple before leaning his forehead against her own.

"You shouldn't be here," he told her, his voice thick with emotion. "How are you here?"

The events leading up to that moment hit Lucy like a tidal wave. Last she could remember, she was on the plane with Howard, only to be ambushed by HYDRA. The SSR came to save them but then she got shot—

Lucy sucked in a sharp breath and held it, letting her eyes linger down to her side. There was blood splattering her clothes everywhere and the source of it came from right below her ribs.

Bucky watched her grasp onto the hem of her shirt, wincing as she lifted it. He could have sworn that his lungs had stopped working when he remembered what Zola had said before.

"It took us a while to stabilize her with the bullet wound she sustained."

"You got shot?!" Bucky's voice had raised an octave, causing Lucy to flinch at the sudden yell.

The bullet wound was not healing correctly. It was borderline purple with puss oozing out of the entrance. Bucky hovered his hands over the area, unable to tear his eyes away from the angry infection growing on his girlfriend's stomach.

When she saw his apologetic expression, Lucy shook her head. "It's okay," she whispered, dismissing his silent apology for making her jump. "God, I don't know how I didn't feel it when I first woke up. It feels like it's on fire now."

Bucky frowned, still inspecting the wound. "Okay, yeah, shit, that's gotta be infected, Luce. You probably didn't feel it because of the adrenaline."

She nodded, focused on lightly tracing the cuts and bruises on Bucky's face with her thumb. "What about you? What did they do to you?"

Bucky had completely forgotten about his own injuries the moment that he laid eyes on Lucy. He stopped and internally smiled at her concern, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. "Don't worry about me, darlin'. I'm okay."

She leaned into his hand, allowing him to use his free one to prod around the area of her wound. Bucky apologized each time she winced from the contact. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Lucy nodded at his question, clearing her throat while collecting her thoughts. "Yeah, um, I was on a plane—"

"You were on a plane? Why the hell were you on a plane?"

Lucy stared at him, confused. "I've been traveling for the past few months with Howard Stark and the SSR. I wrote about it in my letters, Buck, remember?"

Bucky just stared at her, mouth agape as all of the pieces began connecting. The conversation he had overheard between Johann Schmidt and Arnim Zola made much more sense after hearing those words.