ｊａｎｕａｒｙ ７ｔｈ， ２０１４
３５°
ℒℯ𝒶
As she watches him go into the stairwell, she thinks - will I see him again?
She knows she can't think these things. All it does it make him leaving hurt more. She also knows how skilled of an assassin he is; he has, quite literally, been bred for this, and will likely be fine.
But she is always worried that he will not come back to her. She has worried this since the day he appeared on her porch, covered in blood, and disappeared the next night. She can't explain it, but it's like she didn't know she'd been struggling to breathe until he'd come and filled her lungs; like the whole world is screaming mad and the only thing that quiets everything is when his eyes are locked with hers. He is just a person, and yet he is so much more. It is like he is her whole world; her only desire, her biggest worry, her sole relief.
She didn't know there was so much emotion out there to feel. How did she live before he was here? How did she keep going despite never feeling this burning flame of hope and bravery that rages within her now?
It hits her; she understands it now, why people are willing to go to the ends of the Earth for others, why some would rather die than live without the only person that ever made them feel something. It is one thing to be alive, it is another to live. Bucky, with every breath he takes, stirs up so much emotion inside of her that it feels like she was asleep before, and now she is awoken to the dawning of a new world. Everything is new, and vivid, and changed. She would give anything to feel this way for the rest of her life.
A gunshot sounds in the stairwell, interrupting her thoughts and bringing her roaring back to the present. Then another. Two more, and her eyes trail to the door. Her heart beats heavy in her chest. There's a scream, and she closes her eyes. It's not his voice, but she worries nonetheless. He will be okay, she tells herself. She knows it because he has to be. Because they just figured out how to break through the cage they'd been in before. Because it can't be over yet.
Now that her thoughts have stopped, she is more alert. Footsteps echo down a hallway somewhere, a faraway scream makes her blood run cold, quiet voices are coming from every direction.
She imagines all the other prisoners who have been here before her, how many took their last breath in this cold building. This is a place where the promise of power has turned men into animals. They claim their radical beliefs of how the world works have enlightened them, helped them grow, but all it has done is made them regress and become savages. Bringing pain on others gives them the false illusion that they have power; killing makes them feel like they are superior.
One man's greed leads to another's death. Or, even worse, it leads to seventy years of life, memories, emotions all being stolen from you while your hands are bloodied against your will.
As if a moment guided by fate, it is when she thinks this that Bucky finally emerges from the stairwell door. He is quiet and still as he stands before her, the only part of his body moving being his chest as he breathes heavily. She scans the suit that she knows so well, looking for tears, rips, or holes where any number of weapons might've carved into his skin. But she finds none.
Looking up at his face, she understands his silence; his eyes are far away, unfocused. A spray of blood coats his left cheek. He has just killed someone, and she must help his find his way back to his humanity, find a way to forgive himself.
She puts her hands on his cheeks, ignoring the blood and cupping his face between her palms. His stubble rubs against her skin, and his eyes lift to hers, weary.
Lea nods. "You're ok, I'm ok." Her voice is barely above a whisper, low but strong. Convincing. "That was necessary. We need to get out of here."
It takes a second of reluctance, but eventually he nods, and she can see the moment he clears his head. The shadow lifts from his features and his eyebrows knot, once again focused on the task ahead of them. He releases a breath, nods, turns, gestures for her to follow.
After that he doesn't question anything again. He cuts down anyone who comes between him and the exit without hesitation. With someone here for him to actively protect, he lets his mind focus so intently on saving her that he doesn't have time to contemplate the gravity of his actions. She watches him hack through bodies with anger in his eyes. She's not sure if he is angry at the men for threatening her, or angry at Hydra for forcing him to have even more blood on his hands – probably both.
As he fights men, she fights to stay upright. Adrenaline has helped her make it this far, but even her natural drive can only aid her so much. She has been starved for quite some time, and has lost some of the very little muscle she had before all of this began. Weeks of torture have added injury and pain to her already weak body. The fresh scars lining her skin randomly rip open again and bleed, stinging with exposure to the air. Being drowned several times has made her lungs desperate to fill with oxygen, but they never seem to get enough; she is wheezing as she walks, yet tries to keep quiet about it so Bucky doesn't worry.
It feels like they will never get out of here. Hydra's cold and unforgiving concrete hallways seem to stretch on for miles. As they walk through a section of the compound that is empty of soldiers, Lea reaches for Bucky's hand. He takes it immediately and squeezes it tightly. Then, as if as an afterthought occurs to him a few seconds later, he scans the hallway again before pulling her into a small alcove between doorways where they can remain hidden for a moment.
She is pulled neatly against his chest and stares up at him with confusion as her heart beats rapidly. They must be hiding from something. "What's wrong?"
Bucky has a look in his eyes that she does not recognize. His hair falls carelessly around his sharp jawline, and he's never looked more beautiful to her than he does in this moment. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing," he murmurs.
Then he stuns her completely by rushing to close the distance between them. His soft pink lips, the ones she has admired so much from afar, are suddenly pressed against her own, and her eyes close against her will as she lets herself feel nothing but him.
His scent, a masculine and earthy, is all she can smell; she knows it well because the blanket and clothes he left behind at her house smelled the same. His stubble bristles against her hand that moves to cup his cheek, her other hand shifting to wrap around his torso. Bucky's arms are slung across her waist and clutch at her like she is his only source of life.
Their lips mold against each other as if they were made for this, and though the kiss is short, it feels like an eternity has passed by the time he reluctantly pulls away. For the first time since she's known him, there is nothing but pure happiness in his eyes, along with a hint of hunger for her. She is wild and breathless, living a different life than she has ever lived before.
Neither of them can find any words to speak in the moment immediately following. They are caught up with falling in love.
Eventually, however, the words come to them. Bucky shakes his head with a smile and curls a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time. I couldn't wait any longer."
She can still taste him on her lips, and shock is still coursing through her system as she struggles to discern what just happened. "I'm glad you did." Her verbal confirmation that what he did was okay, and that she wanted it to happen to, causes him to let out a small breath of relief. Her hand is still on his cheek, and she takes the opportunity to rub it across his skin.
"We need to get out of here, I know, but..." he starts, then trails off. He is looking for words that are foreign to him. Words he doesn't know how to put together. "I..I-I just..."
Lea watches him try and fail to complete his sentence, struggling with his own mind. As he works to say exactly what he means, she hears voices coming from down the hall, a reminder of the situation they are in. They are not free to love each other properly yet.
"Hey," she cuts in. "Let's get out of here first, and then talk. There will be plenty of time to talk later, yeah?"
He is still thinking, but a sudden clamor of noise forces him to focus. A nod. "Ok."
She doesn't want to leave his arms, but with one more stroke of his cheek, she does. The absence of his touch is cold and lonely. She still can't believe what just happened; she can't believe that they are in the middle of escaping from a murderous organization that wants them dead, and he just pulled her aside to kiss her because he couldn't wait any longer.
He takes one more longing look at her before they take off. It's like nothing happened, except her entire world is upside down, and the only thing that is right side up is Bucky.
Long steps, heels then toes, full of purpose. Lots of thinking, about blood and bullets and death and kisses. A few threats are taken out, Lea and Bucky gone before their bodies hit the floor. A blur of mixed emotions about tragedy and love. Somehow, they make it to the door.
They take a deep breath, glance at each other, notice how this action feels different now. Full of a thousand unspoken words. They push the door open.