Chapter 20

"Steve!" a desperate feminine cry came from behind him as he directed a pistol at the man he had be fighting.

The Winter Soldier turned to the new potential threat only to catch his breath. It was the woman. The woman that had housed herself in his blurred memory, haunting yet warming him.

He was certain she was the angel that had engraved herself in his memory. She stood frozen, the large gun she had pointed at him fell limply from her slender hands. Her golden hair was tousled and chaotic but to him appeared wildly untameable. What captured him was her crystal blue eyes. They did not brim with tears but held an unfathomable agony and hope. The Winter Soldier was sure that no person could feel to that extent and not to him.

Her trembling lips spoke one soft word, "Bucky."

It was a name he thought. A stupid one. A name that was directed at him. But he didn't have a name. He was the Winter Soldier, nothing more.

On instinct he raised the gun, with orders to kill the man and anyone who opposed him. He steeled his thrumming heart as he pulled the trigger of the small gun. But instead of aiming for a vital organ such as the heart or brain, he fired at her hip. A wound that if left untreated would kill her but not devastating if not tended to.

He had never done that before without the intent to interrogate and torture for information. He felt a strange pain in his chest as she looked to his eyes and smiled. She smiled. The Winter Soldier scrambled to discovery why. The soft, bitter sweet expression on her face as her legs could no longer hold her weight. He found himself drawn towards her as she crumbled to the ground.

He could hear the faint scream of the blonde man as the woman fell to the ground. As if he had been the one to be shot. The reinforcements of HYDRA agents circled around, tugging at the thrashing man. Six men restraining him as he desperately resisted attempting to reach the fallen woman.

After that he could no longer hear the man or the agents, the only sound was his breathing as he knelt beside the laying woman he had shot.

Blood was pooling from her stomach, it was not yet a fatal amount but it soon would be. The Winter Soldier had seen the dying faces of his targets before and they hadn't had this much of an effect on him. He would turn away and return to the HYDRA base. But he could not turn away this time. Golden waves sprawled around her head, framing a face that was not griped with fear but was serene.

She watched him as he did her, her eyes were glazed as blood loss began to take its toll on her consciousness. She lifted up a weak hand to his face. He flinched away from it. It persisted and he gave in, humouring the dying woman.

Her smile grew in warmth and size as her soft hand rested on his rough cheek.

"That least I got to see you again Bucky," she whispered contently as her eye lids fluttered closed.

In that moment the Winter Soldier found himself doing something he had never dreamed of doing. His reasons he didn't know. He gently scooped the weakening woman up in his arms, abandoning the pistol. He adjusted her arms to put pressure on the wound as he carefully carried her away while the rest of the HYDRA agents were still occupied with the frantic blonde man. Cradling her warm body in his arms.

The Winter Soldier had no intention of returning to HYDRA, and every intention of saving this woman's life. So he did what the Winter Soldier always did. He disappeared.

Six HYDRA agents had managed to shove Steve into a truck that was already occupied by Sam, two guards and a bleeding Natasha. She must have not survived her fight with the Winter Soldier unscathed.

Steve thrashed against the agents shouting, "Annie, we have to go back!"

Natasha looked down and solemnly advised, "Steve sit down, she's gone. HYDRA isn't going to call an ambulance for her."

Steve froze, realising that no matter how much he struggled and pleaded, no one was coming to help his dying sister. He imagined her bleeding form lying as her eyes shut never to open again.

Thick, steel cuffs restrained Steve. He just stared at them, unmoving. He had just found his dead best friend and lost him and his sister in a minute. Steve had never lost so much and now he was left with nothing.

The piercing pain had transitioned to numbness. When their mother had died Annie was there experiencing it with him. When he had lost Bucky Annie had been there experiencing it with him. When he got frozen in the ice, Annie had been there. And when he had to brave a world he didn't recognise, Annie was there. Annie had been his reason for continuing instead of sinking into isolation, what motivated him on missions. Aside from his desire to protect people, he wanted to keep his little sister safe. But he couldn't do it. He failed.

The Winter Soldier rushed through deserted backstreets. The increasing amount of blood straining his nerves. He had made the promise to save her and he wasn't going to fail. He couldn't. He didn't understand why this was so important, he just needed to keep her safe and that meant finding somewhere to hide and tending to her wound.

At the moment he didn't have ability to be choosey and climbed through an aging apartment block which appeared to be half abandoned. He filtered through the floors until found a suitable apartment that was unoccupied, though majority of them weren't.

He moved as quickly as he could without jostling her too much and laid her on the one bed. He turned around to lock the door, hoping that no one actually lived here or he would have to hide the body.

On the way he had stolen some first aid supplies from a shop in case where he found didn't have any and he didn't waste time looking. With the entrance secured he returned to the unconscious woman. He was glad for her state of ignorance because he would not want her to be awake as he removed the bullet with his knife.

He found the nestled bullet easily enough but his frown deepened as this caused more blood to spill from the wound. He afterwards cleaned the wound with cold water from the tap. He quickly began wrapping a bandage around the injury. Fortunately the wound had not been fatal, she should be able to recover well enough.

After discarding of the used supplies he pulled the covers of the bed up and pulled a wooden chair beside the bed to sit on. He had to watch her to ensure that she was fine.

The Winter Soldier found his gaze resting on the peaceful face of the woman. He huffily how ridiculous it was that someone could look so angelic after being shot in the side with dirt marring their face. But her expression was rosy and peaceful. The pink tinge of her cheeks relieving him somewhat as it signalled that she was not on the verge of death.

Her tranquil face showing no sight of pain from the bullet wound. She won't stay that way the Winter Soldier thought pessimistically.

Long wisps of golden hair curled about her face in a tangled chaos that somehow seemed cohesive. Before the Winter Soldier knew he own actions he was gently brushing it away from her face. He quickly pulled back worried to wake her but she fortunately remained asleep. He contemplated if she was a heavy sleeper normally.

He observed the small scratches and dirt that marked her appearance. The Winter Soldier stood and left the room to return with a damp cloth. He looked down at the hand-sized cloth with the intention to clean her stained face. The cloth was white; his heart beat suddenly accelerating as his vision no longer showed the room. A blue piece of fabric filled his vision. He held it in his hands, both of them. His hands were identical, both made out of flesh and bone. He gripped the pale blue material realising it was a handkerchief with writing on it. He could not read the two letters, his sight hazed.

Now he saw snow painted with the red of his bleeding arm, what was left of it. His left arm bloody and in shreds from the upper arm down. He was being dragged away. Away from the small piece of blue fabric which lay lightly on the cold white. He didn't have the strength to retrieve it so he departed with the blue.

His breathing was irregular and frantic as the room returned to him, the rag once again becoming an off white. He shook he head as if the action would clear his mind. He stepped silently to his seat and dabbed the dampness across her cleared forehead.

The Winter Soldier was experienced in most forms of combat and possessed more strength than most men but what he didn't have was skill in gentle tasks. He strained to keep the cloth light over the woman's pale skin as he rubbed away the dried blood and smeared dirt. Endeavouring not to wake her up or to further hurt the scratches and bruises present.

She made a soft noise in her sleep causing the Winter Soldier to pause concerned that he had woken her. He relaxed as he realised that she was still unconscious. But he was startled as a small hand darted from the blankets to gently grasp his hand. His body tensing to defend, a natural response for the assassin.

Her grip loosened and fell on its own accord, freeing him. Though the grip had not been tight to begin with and did not at all prevent him from breaking free. A light warmth trickled the surface she had touched. The Winter Soldier brought his hand up to examine it, puzzled by the reaction. He wasn't used to physical contact, not at HYDRA, but it felt nice. The Winter Soldier furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and intrigue at the sensation.

That night the Winter Soldier did not sleep or eat. He simply looked after this woman he had shot and then saved. One who may have known him. One who for reasons he cannot fathom had dropped her own gun and stood completely vulnerable to him. And then smiled as if seeing him was enough to die for. The Winter Soldier stayed awake that night and the next because he felt this woman was important but he rattled his brain for why.

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