The next time you opened your eyes, the pain stung and the tears rolled freely to clear the grime and debris away, and you were thankful for that ability. You felt like you were carrying the weight of a building on your back, and it very well could have been true after the explosion that shook the ground beneath your feet and toppled everyone to the ground. You lifted your head as much as you could, searching for anyone or anything familiar, breathing a restricted sigh of relief at the view of Steve, running and appearing unharmed, coming closer to you as he called out something that you couldn't hear.

All you could hear was an incessant, piercing ring from the effects of the blast. You couldn't even hear your own voice as you tried to get his attention, yelling with a single hand raised only a few inches to try to show him where you were. You weren't sure if your voice was mute from the coating of dirt that lined your throat, or if you were deaf to it now. You couldn't take the time to worry about that, however, as the fierce need to stay alive had taken over, and the need to know where Bucky was had pushed you into survival mode.

You pushed with all of your might, pressing your hands into the ground to try to lift the debris from your back so that you could move; the weight of it was crushing the air from your chest and robbing you of your strength, so you had to hurry. Steve was too far away yet, dodging through piles of metal and brick broken around you, the final remnants of any buildings that had survived the first attack. Surely there were no survivors now, and you had to fight to not join their ranks of the lost.

"Come on, (Y/N)," you grunted, pushing and arching your back, "come on. You need to find Bucky. Come...on, (Y/N)."

The debris started to shift, much to your relief, giving you a sudden rush of adrenaline and burst of strength to finish the task. A loud yell escaped your throat as you gave it the final push, feeling the sweet relief of being able to take a deep breath, and the slight rush of dizziness at both the new oxygen and the change in position. You turned to see what you had been buried under and to see for yourself the limits of your strength, only to gasp at the sight that your brain refused to accept.

It was Bucky.

~~~

It took Steve and Tony an eternity to find you amidst the destruction, or at least it had felt that way. You were no longer worried for your own safety; you wanted them to take Bucky away and be sure that he was going to be okay. Your hands found a pulse and he was breathing, that much you knew for sure, but beyond that, you were terrified at the possibilities. He looked so pale, and his skin was frighteningly cool. As Steve pulled Bucky up and into his arms, breaking into a run towards the quinjet and away from the fight, Tony reached down for you, but you swatted his covered hands away.

"I'm good," you snapped, feeling your anger swell now that Bucky was safely taken. Your vision was clearing and the piercing ringing in your ears was muted, though you weren't fully sharp just yet. You shook your head a few times as if to try to clear the noise away, but it did nothing. Rather than waste any further time on that, you instead scoured the ground around you, searching for the weapons that you had been carrying when the blast hit. Dropping to your knees in the exact spot where you had been pinned, you pushed the piles of debris away urgently and desperately until your hand hit a familiar metal; you cleaned the dirt from it with renewed energy, grabbing the rifle and standing to check if it still worked.

"Hey, get your ass on the jet, (Y/N)," Tony argued, "you don't know if you're hurt. Let us finish this, okay?"

"No, Tony. There's no way in hell that I'm getting on that jet. Not until every single one of them are dead. It would be wise to not get in my way." You stood steady for just a moment, your stance held firm and watching him to see if he would argue or try to force you back, but with the click of seconds passing by driving you mad, you took his lack of persistence as the only authority you needed.

"Okay, but you're not doing this alone," he insisted. "Tell me your plan so I can back you up."

"My plan?" you scoffed, unlocking the safety on your weapon. "I don't have a plan. Just follow along and shoot to kill, Stark. If they wanted me to fight like Hydra, then that's what I'll give them."

~~~

Steve had returned to the fight at some point, you had an awareness of that. Tony had never left your side, as he had promised, and the sounds of his repulsors became clearer as the battle continued. Even with your compromised senses, and the pain in your muscles that continued from your own injury, you fought as if none of it were there, your need to make your point driving you forward like you had no other purpose. No matter what the Hydra team brought, you countered it, with Tony at your back and following your orders without question.

You had only one goal; live long enough to see Bucky wake up.

"(Y/N)!" Tony called down to you, stopping you in your tracks. His hand was raised just ahead of where you stood, only a few feet away from where the one man that you really wanted was watching your approach.

The Commander didn't look scared at all, as if he doubted your ability and your desire to end him more than any of the others. You were going to make sure it was his last mistake, even if it meant that he took you with him. With slow and measured steps first, you pushed forward despite Tony's urging to follow, raising a hand to him to stay back. "Only if I need you, Tony," you answered him calmly, thankful that he was willing to comply; at least for now.

"It certainly takes a great deal to get your attention," the man said with a false smile. "I normally prefer to not kill so many in one strike, as to keep a low profile, but for you, I make exceptions."

"I won't say that I'm honored."

"No, I'm sure you won't. So, my dear, now that we know that our hold on you has been erased, what do you suggest that we do with you? I could kill you and remove your misery, if you wish. Or, we could take you home, to where you truly belong."

"Or, third option," you smiled coldly, "I could kill you instead. I think I like the sound of that much better."

"I think that...unlikely."

Without another word able to pass through your lips, one of his guards jumped forward from outside of your periphery and before Tony could intercept. His knife speared into your upper arm when you spun at the very last second, just before Tony shot him down, making you drop your weapon on the ground at your feet. "Tony! I've got him, you take the rest," you ordered, pushing forward to the man who still remained your number one target. He was clearly a coward, which was more obvious with each step you took closer as he backed away until he was pushed against a wall with nowhere to run.

"You think you can stop me?" he hissed, choking on his air when you thrust your elbow into his throat to silence him.

"I considered keeping you alive, just so that if Bucky doesn't wake up, I can take my time with killing you. But then I remembered every one of our friends that you took from us today, and every moment that they'll never have, and every breath that they'll never take, and I decided that you don't deserve even one more...Dad." With that, you grabbed the handle of the blade that was still impaled in your arm, pulling it free without so much as a wince, holding his stare until the last second as it impaled into his chest and he dropped to the ground in a heap.

"Holy shit," Tony gasped, watching from above. "(Y/N), that was...terrifying. Badass...but terrifying."

"Thanks," you answered softly, turning to face him as he hovered in front of you, "but I'm really...I'm really tired." Your eyes closed, unintentionally and unstoppable, as the combination of fatigue and injury took over, the new blood loss being the final straw that your body couldn't help but break.

"Woah, I've got you!" he exclaimed, rushing to land in time to catch you before you could touch the ground. Tony set you down gently, pushing from his suit and hurrying to take off his shirt, tearing away one of the sleeves to make a tourniquet to tie above the wound in your arm to make it stop bleeding. Once he felt secure with his work, and it looked to have slowed, he donned his suit once more, taking you into his arms to carry you to the jet, where you would lie at Bucky's side until the team could get the two of you to help.

~~~

"I'm sorry," Steve said softly, almost so much so that you thought you were hearing things until he spoke again. He wasn't aware that you were awake, and if he had, he might have stopped, so you kept your eyes closed to let him continue. "I'm sorry to both of you. (Y/N), I didn't trust you to be able to handle what was going on...to handle the truth. I really misjudged you, and I'm sorry. You proved yourself as a part of this team back there, and you proved that you're in control of who you are, and I'll never doubt you again."

Your eyes opened the smallest width, barely seeing him turn his head away, his body positioned so that you couldn't see if Bucky was awake or not; the stillness of the hand that you could see gave you the answer before your Captain's words could.

"Buck, come on, man, you've gotta wake up," Steve continued. "You've been through worse than this, and (Y/N)..." he stopped, glancing over his shoulder to you for a second, "she needs you. She probably wouldn't say it to your face, but trust me, okay? You know that I need you too. And listen...I'm sorry about what I said. I never thought that you couldn't handle yourself, and that you were still that guy. I know better. I'm an idiot."

"You got that right," you finally spoke, pushing yourself up to sit on your gurney. "But I'm pretty sure he already knows that, Cap."

"Hey, what are you doing?" Steve jumped up. He reached out to grab your arms to hold you steady, but your hand out to stop him worked readily. "At least go slow, would ya?"

"Has he woken up at all?" you evaded. "What did the doc say?"

"What do they always say? We have to wait."