So guys, i know i haven't updated, and truthfully, i've been very busy with life and all, so i'm sorry! but i would like to share the prologue to another marvel fanfic that i thought of, and i would like to know what you think. I'm not going to tell you ANYTHING about it, just give you the piece. Let me know what you think, and if you'd be interested in reading it. A oneshot update is coming soon, i promise! 

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Bucky blinked. Once. Twice.

Everything hurt, even his robotic arm, in a way. His head was spinning, his ears were ringing. His muscles tensed at the mere thought of the last time he had seen his friends. After that, everything fell to darkness - something that Buck hated the thought of.

He felt trapped, like he needed to get out of wherever he was being held. But there was nowhere to go, no one he could run to. He was alone, and that brought on a sinking feeling in his chest, one too noticable to ignore or push out of his reeling brain.

Too many things were going on, too many emotions were dancing across his aching head. He couldn't process the feeling of grass beneath him, or the sound of birds chirping in overhead trees.

A cool breeze clung to the air, ruffling his tangled hair and sending shivers that seemed to awaken his nerves down his spine. He clenched his fist, the sweet sensation of solid ground beneath him soothing his sore body.

Confused, he was finally able to open his eyes, snapped from his mysterious haze that had overtaken him for God knew how long.

Streaks of blue and white clouded his fuzzy vision as he struggled to recognize where he was. He strained his hearing, his body still practically limp, and as the ringing faded into the sound of a quiet background, he started to hear the one thing that he didn't know he had longed for until now -

Silence. The only sound being the soft chirping of the birds and the occasional gust of a cool breeze.

It wasn't an eerie quiet, though, like it had been for what seemed like an eternity. No, this was a calming quiet.

Wherever he was, it was calming. Everything was at peace here, and peace wasn't something he could call common in his past few weeks.

Then he heard her.

The sound of shuffling behind him, the slam of a door, and the shriek of a panicked woman.

"OH MY GOD!" the voice shouted in a panic. He thought he could hear her footfalls across the lawn, and his theory was soon proven as the blob of a short brunette charged into eyeshot. "Oh my god are you okay?!" Her voice sounded like the sweetest choir, like a million tiny voices harmonized into one. He knew he must have looked like hell itself, so he couldn't blame her for her reaction.

He squinted, trying to get a better view of her, but to no avail - he was too tired to focus on much of anything. He struggled - and failed - to find his voice as she reached for his good arm and tried to pull him to his feet.

But he was dead weight against her, as none of his limbs were functioning properly. However, she managed to sling his arm over her slim shoulder, seemingly ignoring his prosthetic, which for once he was thankful for.

His vision faded in and out as the she dragged Bucky across her lawn and miraculously up the two stairs of her porch. He tried desperately to provide her with some kind of physical help, but he was in no condition to do so. It was hard enough for him to keep his heart beating, let alone walk himself inside.

There was a dry lump in his throat, which he knew was from all the emotion he had been feeling - his feelings poured over him without any control, which he wasn't used to. Everything had changed at the mere snap of a finger - literally - and somehow he was here in an unknown place, with a stranger dragging him along into her home.

He had no idea in hell how he had ended up on the poor woman's front lawn, but then again, he wasn't sure he could differentiate fact from fiction at this point, which was an annoying feeling to cope with.

"Why were you on my front lawn?! How in the world did you get there?! My god, should I call the police? O-or an ambulance?"

He groaned, the first sound he had produced in a while. His head fell forwards as he was seated in a comfortable cushioned chair, his legs feeling numb and his blood feeling like it was on fire. Yet he felt weightless, like he could float away as if he were nothing but a feather on the wind. It was a horrible, disgraceful feeling that he wish he could get rid of.

"You . . ." she started, in what sounded like shock. "You look like Sebastian Stan in his Bucky Barnes costume."

Sebastian Stan? Who was that? Were kids dressing up as him for halloween now? Was it her nephew? Or son? No, she looked too young to be a mother.

He wanted to ask, but his voice caught in his throat once again, and all that came up was a hoarse hiccup.

"Oh my god . . . OH my GOD. Why are you here? Sebastian Stan, was on my lawn . . . SEBASTIAN STAN is in my house . . . what even is life?"

Okay, so maybe this Sebastian person wasn't a relative. But who was he? And why was she so hyped up about this? Why wasn't she asking about something more serious, like Thanos, or the snap, or how half the population just evaporated into thin air? She didn't seem the slightest bit concerned!

"Are you sure you're okay? Let me get you an ice pack . . . would you like some water? Or some tea for your throat? Umm, I really think I should call someone . . ."

He furiously shook his head, despite the screaming in his neck, as she reached for what looked like a phone. His vision was still fuzzy, so it was hard to tell.

"No? Okay, but please know I'm no doctor . . . I'm sorry I'm just a huge fan of your work in marvel and stuff . . . oh, sorry . . . let me get that ice pack."

Her blobby figure scurried into another room, as Barnes lay limp in her living room. Every part of him wanted to get back to Steve, or Nat, or Bruce, or anyone, really. He'd even take Stark, if he were being totally honest. But he had no idea where he was, and he most likely wouldn't know until he gained his voice back. So, it was a waiting game.

He hated the feeling of being so helpless and weak - he was used to fending for himself, and taking care of OTHERS, not others taking care of HIM. All he wanted was for the insane pain to go away, so he could get up and find his friends and make things right again.

But right now, being what he was - frail, weak, dying, injured - there was nothing he could do.