I dressed myself in my fighting clothes, and braided my hair, as usual. I walked to the jet platform, the 4 am wind whipping me in the face. I saw Barnes was already waiting for me. I hadn't slept at all, there was no point, I'd just try to sleep on the 6 hour flight there. His silhouette looked terrifying against the orange glow of the city lights below, with his large muscles tensed and his longer hair blowing around. He looked prepared for anything.

I stood on the platform and just looked at him. His back was turned towards me, so he couldn't see me watch him. I gave me chills to see him in this predatory state, ready to attack. I had seen him fight, but it wasn't like this.

I tore my eyes away from his dangerous stature, and boarded the Quinjet. I sat down in the bench and gripped the edge of the seat. "I didn't take you for a stalker, but I guess I was wrong about that, too," his voice rumbled across the floor.

"I'm not a stalker. I don't know what you are talking about."

"I heard your footsteps as soon as you came off the elevator. I heard your footsteps stop and start again when you were done staring at me." I narrowed my eyes. I don't like the thought of someone knowing exactly where I am, just based off the sounds of my footsteps. It was unnerving.

"Can we just go?" I sighed. I didn't have it in me to argue with him. Not today. He said nothing in reply and just walked to the pilots seat. I was never taught how to fly the jets, so I remained seated. I felt the familiar lurch in my stomach as the jet began to move, and I nearly vomited all over the place. I held myself together, and as soon as we were steady I went to the cupboard with the med kit, but when I opened it up, the little bottle of tranquilizers wasn't there.

"We didn't feel like it was in the best interest of the mission if you were high off your head on pills the whole time." I tried to take deep breaths.

"I'm not a fucking addict, I need the tranquilizers for the trip there. I hate flying. Oh god, and they aren't here," I began to tear up. I was terrified. I hated flying. I hated it so much. I began throwing stuff out of the med kit so I could see inside it better. The bottle wasn't there. "Oh god. Okay. Okay what do I do, ah, oh god." My heart raced, and I pressed my fingers to my throat to feel the pulse. I counted every time I felt a beat, until I began to feel it slow down. I saw that trick in a movie. I didn't think it would actually work. My face was burning with effort to keep myself together, and I held my breath as I continued to count my pulse. I heard some muttering from the pilot's seat and snapped my head up.

"What was that Barnes?"

"I called you a crazy bitch, you fucking lunatic. You're flying in a plane, not jumping out of one." I glared at the back of his head but said nothing. I was exhausted. I gave up in search of the tranquilizers and plugged my earbuds in, trying to drown out my panicky thoughts with old music. When it didn't work, I distracted myself with something else.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" I snapped, striding to the co-pilots spot, but remained standing.

"Sit down Y/n." I frowned.

"No, what the fuck is your deal? I have done absolutely nothing to you, and all you do is find reasons to hate me. I opened up to you I-" I paused as I felt my voice crack.

"I told you about my sister and what they did to me. You were the only person who I felt connected to, and then I heard you talking shit about me with my sister. So what the fuck is your problem with me?"

"My problem is that you're a lying murderer with a victim complex. I talked to Wanda, that whole story you told Nat, Steve and I was bullshit, and I told them too. You were the one who practically sold you and your siblings to Hydra, not Wanda. You're the reason your brother is dead, and you know it." I slapped him across the face with everything in me, and his head barely whipped to the side. He calmly set the jet in Auto-pilot and lunged at me.

His arms wrapped around my torso and tackled me to the ground, before throwing his flesh fist towards my face. I turned my head to the right at the last second, leaving his fist to land on the ground. I jumped to my feet before throwing a kick, aiming for his ribs, but before it could hit its target, he grabbed my foot and threw me into the wall, a sharp pain spread from my bullet would out in a ripple, but I ignored it. I watched him rush toward me, and as soon as his right hand came for my face I ducked, and rammed my elbow into his side. I heard a soft grunt at this and was somewhat satisfied that I had caused him just a touch of pain. I took two quick steps to his side where he left a gap, exposing his gut, and threw my knee up. This left my other leg vulnerable, which if course he took, slamming me to my back, followed by my head smacking the ground, sending me unconscious.

-Bucky's POV-

As I stood over her unconscious body, guilt tugged at my heart. She was just scared and wanted something to take the edge off. I didn't have to be a dick about it, but in the other hand, she hit me first. I shouldn't have said those things though. All she had done was asked what my problem was, and honestly, I didn't know. When she was near me I felt tense, like a bomb was going to go off. It coiled in all of my muscles. When my eyes bet her hollow ones the sound of blood rushing filled my ears. I couldn't handle myself around her. Sometimes when she spoke it made me want to sit and listen forever, and other times I just wanted to glue her mouth shut.

She didn't smile very often, not genuinely. She would smirk or snicker, but I had never heard a whole hearted, genuine laugh from her. I don't think she deserved it. She was a bitch to everyone, and according to Wanda, a total liar. I don't know why I pitied her, or why I was drawn to her. It was easier to hate her, so I stuck with that.

I turned back to the pilots seat and took control again of the jet, leaving her unconscious on the floor.

-Y/n's POV, landed at the base-

We stalked through the seemingly abandoned base in a stoney silence, checking every room. I had been here before, this was one of the main bases I was kept at. I recognized some hallways, certain features. When we turned a hallway I vaguely recognized, my eyes met a large door with a keypad and faded sign. I wouldn't look at it, but I couldn't look away. I stopped moving. I stared, practically dead, at the door. This was his favourite room. The Hydra official who ran this base. His favourite room to take me too, with all of his sharp tools, and pliers, and hot pokers.

"I can't go in there," I whispered, not moving.

"We have to. It was clearly directed to check every room," Barnes replied.

"I can't, Barnes," I said, a bit louder. "I can't."

The scars all across my back nearly burned at the sight of the room.

-Flashback, TW: physical abuse-

"Will you ever disobey me again, dear?" He whispered against my bare shoulder. The back of my light tank top hung in shreds, along with the skin beneath it from the sharp-tipped whip he had been using against be for the past hour.

"No," I whispered. I felt heat against my torso. The burning sensation had me screaming as the sound of sizzling skin filled the air, as well as the smell. The hot poker left a nickel-sized hole on the surface of my left shoulder blade. Brute force slammed into my rib following it.

"You speak when you are told to speak, bitch. You are nothing."

-Flashback ended-

I shook my head vigorously. I wouldn't. I wouldn't relive those memories when I had spent a year dreaming them. I wouldn't do this.