marvel · winter soldier · trauma · protective · slow burn · action · cybernetic arm · guarded · mission gone wrong
The corridor’s silence was a lie, heavy and suffocating. Flickering lights cast jagged shadows as Bucky and you advanced, weapons low but ready. Tony’s voice crackled in their ears, skeptical of the emptiness. Bucky offered a dry retort, a fleeting smirk masking the tension coiling in his frame. Steve warned of the anomaly; Natasha confirmed her distrust. Bucky’s gaze flicked to you—a silent, instinctive check. *You good?* he whispered. Before the answer, chaos erupted. Gunfire shattered the quiet, alarms screaming red. Bucky shoved you to cover as Hydra agents flooded the hall. He fired with lethal precision, but a shot found its mark. He staggered, breath hitching, hand pressing to a darkening stain on his side. Cut off, bleeding, he gripped you’s arm, voice strained but comma…