My tears started to pool up beneath my chin and drop onto my thighs. The sadness in me started to boil into anger, and my face started to tense up.
"Don't you dare leave me Bucky. I won't let you die because of me. I need you. If you go, I'll drown, Bucky. Without you, I don't want to come back up for air. I'm not at home, my parents are who knows where, I can't even trust myself. You are all I have right now, you are my life raft, Bucky. Now I need you to stay with me and pull me out of this ice cold water because I'm sinking fast," I cried, pounding my fist on the floor.
"Don't go...please," my anger burned down and my hands hung at my side. I sighed heavily and didn't bother to stop the tears from streaming down the sides of my face. My heart was thumping along with his, steadily beating again and again and-
Footsteps. Large ones. Heavy, but light on the toes. Fast.
Steve.
I batted my eyes a few times to clear the fog of my tears and slouched over Bucky's still body. I could not only sense, but hear the weak pounding in his chest. I listened to it like a lullaby, calming me until Steve bursted in.
"Darby, what- Darby! What happened?" he ran through the corridor and gestured towards the various unconscious bodies in the room, stalling at Bucky's.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. It was all my fault Steve. I didn't mean to, I just-" I tried to explain, lifting my head up to Steve.
"We don't need to waste time on explaining now. Are they...alive?" he questioned, almost gagging on the very words.
"Yes, yes. Sam and Natasha are but Bucky-"
Steve bent down and examined the tee shirt wrapped around Bucky's head. He traced his hand over Bucky's arm and pursed his lips.
"Steve. He's dying, because of me. He, he came at me, and...and I did this to him-" I stuttered.
"Stop it Darby. You did it out of defense, it was not entirely your fault," he reassured, standing back up from his crouching position.
"We have to go Steve. Bucky needs help now, professional help. I can't heal him any more, and the quinjet doesn't exactly fly-"
"What?! What happened to the quinjet?" he ran to the front control panel with a Sam-shaped dent in the middle.
"It's my fault and now it doesn't work anymore."
"But, what..how did-"
"It's difficult to explain. But we need to get out of here. It won't be easy unless Sam and Natasha wake up," I sniffled.
I glanced back at Bucky and started to cry again. Steve rushed to my side and wrapped himself around me without hesitation.
"He will be fine, Darby," his calm voice reassured.
"We don't know that Steve. I couldn't live with myself if he-"
"He will be fine. I promise," he sternly looked me in the eyes. He was lying, I knew that. But at least the hope was genuine.
I nodded my head and leaned back. Steve rushed to Natasha and Sam and examined them for a while. Steve pushed on Natasha's shoulder and she jolted awake. Steve flinched and jumped back. Natasha sat up and rubbed her head, wincing. She blinked a couple times and cleared her vision, then focused her attention on Steve.
"Rogers!" she exclaimed, unbuckling herself from the belts that held her up before. She jumped onto her feet and pulled Steve back towards her. She hesitated a little and glanced back at me. Her eyes looked at me with regret, and then fear as soon as she noticed Bucky on the floor.
"What did you-" she started.
Steve held a hand out, stopping her from proceeding towards me. "Nat, we need to get out of here. Hydra will be here any second and the jet is down. I'll contact Tony to get us, but until then, we will have to retreat and hide. I have to carry Bucky, so is there any chance you think Sam will be awake soon?"
"No idea. He clocked out as soon as I did," she replied, crossing her arms. She glared at me slightly, but I kept my head down.
"Darby, you can't wake him up somehow?" Steve questioned, unbuckling Sam from his harnesses.
I shook my head.
"I haven't dealt with unconscious before," I shrugged, crawling towards Sam's legs and squatting by his feet.
Steve sighed deeply and stared at Natasha. "Well, in that case, I'll move Bucky, and come back for Sam. Nat, will you be alright to keep watch until I get back?"
Natasha nodded and Steve turned away. He swiftly lifted the massive, limp body by the corridor of the jet. The dried pool of blood under him was being coated by fresh blood on top. I turned away and gagged a little. It reminded me of when I woke up in the alley, and when the crust on my knuckles was the only thing I could smell besides old, rusty bricks.
Steve hurried out, footsteps pounding against the metal floors as he rushed into the wooded area outside. The frigid aid had now filled the room and I shivered, goosebumps growing on my arms and legs. I skipped in the firmly printed footsteps in the dirt, following closely behind Steve. Bucky's hair hung over Steve's arm, his-
"Stop," I whispered.
We were being followed. One. Two. Three men. Average sized men. They were whispering. Four. Five.
Steve continued, not hearing me peep out my previous demand.
"Steve. Stop." I groaned again.
He stopped in his tracks and moved his head around slowly, scanning the area.
Crack.
Steve and I shot around to find five men dressed in black lined up in a barricade behind us. The lifted their guns a pointed them in our direction.
"Get her, and kill him," one of them demanded.
"Which man? There's two of them" another peeped.
"The tall one you idiot! The other is one of ours. Save him if you can, but she is the main priority," the assumed leader of the group responded.
The farthest man to the right approached Steve and quickly attacked. Steve dropped Bucky, skillfully keeping his hand under his head until he hit the ground. Steve swung out his shield and covered himself. He rammed forward and knocked down one of the men, than another.
"Get out, Darby!" Steve commanded, smashing the next man's face into a tree.
Two men came up to me and grabbed me around the arms.
"Let me go!" I squealed, thrashing my legs around, kicking one of them in the shins. They flinched and kicked me back, a lot harder than I did to them.
"Easy, she's a dangerous one," a voice to my right argued.
"Really? She doesn't seem dangerous," he chuckled, kicking me again.
Steve yelled and punched the chuckling man, and raised his hand to thrash the other.
"Stop now," a voice boomed, along with the sound of a gun.
Steve froze next to me and scanned for the voice.
The leader held a gun up at Steve and leveled it to his face.
"Now, Captain," the man voiced. "Your time is up," he grinned, twitching his finger.
It all seemed to go in slow motion. The leader pressed against the trigger as Steve shut his eyes. The air slowed and the wind felt like it stopped. My head ached as I tried to force some power out of me to stop him from shooting Steve.
I had just enough energy to push his hand lower, shooting Steve in the foot. Steve shrieked out in pain, falling to the floor.
The man seemed to like this idea of torture. He chuckled and shook his head at Steve, and then eyes at me.
"Nice move, Miss Whitmore. This will be even more satisfying knowing you are here to witness it," he smirked, raising his gun again.
His fingers traced the trigger and Steve's eyes widened. The man tensed his hand and the gun went off.