Old Soul (Captain America/Steve Rogers)

25

<Avalie's Pov>

War Machine took off to rescue Natasha, letting me make my way back to the helicarrier. Before taking off towards the jet, I slipped Steve's shield onto my back, wanting to return it to him.

I ran through the floors, avoiding trouble when I could. I had to alert the others about our next move.

I had no doubt that plan B wouldn't work. It was just the way we approached the situation and used our backup weapon. We couldn't just send a giant green monster on a rampage through Brooklyn.

Clint warned me over the ear piece that the bottom floors was a bloodbath as I neared them. Thankful for the alert, I find a fallen Hydra fighter, grabbing the gun off of his dead body with a slight smirk. I've taken a dead guy's gun. How badass am I?

Once I reached the third floor, I could see what Clint meant. Hundreds of Hydra members lay dead, the tile floors slick with their blood. I walk through the level in disgust, remembering that I wasn't wearing any shoes.

On the second floor I found a few left overs, firing their machine guns as soon as I walked into sight. My eyes widen in fear, instinctively ducking into a roll to take cover behind a wall.

I look down at my gun worriedly, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. I give my self a small pep-talk, saying that I was bound to kill a man at one time or another.

And with that, I turn around the corner, aiming my pistol like I had been taught. My finger hesitates on the trigger, and I have to close my eyes as I prepare to fire.

But before I even pull the trigger, I hear a gunshot, making my eyes snap open. The six men firing at me had all dropped to the ground, behind them standing a man with shaggy dark hair and wild eyes. I immediately notice that he has a metal arm.

He lowers his gun, seeing me taking cover. He hurries over to me, and I bite my lip, holding my aim still. I didn't know what side he was on.

As he comes closer to me, he puts his hands up in surrender just for me to see that he was harmless. Trusting him, I lower my gun, keeping a keen stare on him.

"Who are you?" I ask, keeping my hands wrapped tightly around the gun handle.

The man opens his mouth to answer with confidence, but then he distractedly looks away, his gaze shifting downwards in confusion. He closes his mouth, as if he didn't know how to respond.

I raise my eyebrows. "What's your name?"

His stare stays focused on the ground, his lips quivering as he tries to form a thought. He looks as if he's really struggling hard, like pushing against a restriction disabling him to remember his name.

But then his conflicted eyes light back up, his head lifting back up to look at me. "My name is Bucky Barnes. Are you Avalie?"

I numbly nod, confused. My grip tightens as I become more unsure of this guy.

"Don't be alarmed. I came with S.H.I.E.L.D.," he says, stuttering slightly. His eyes also twitched, which scared me. He seemed distraught, maybe a little deranged.

He takes one step towards me, and I take one step back, still cautious of him. He holds a hurt, desperate look in his eyes, reminding me of an abused puppy. My heart breaks at the sight of him, but he still looks and acts crazed.

I reach up to click on my ear piece. "Status on Bucky Barnes?"

I look at him with wide, alert eyes, him staring back with expectant ones. I hear someone, maybe Clint, reply, "He's with us."