Warrior ϟ Marvel [2]

3.2

CHAPTER TWO

Nostalgia

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"You are going to fix her. Now."

Bucky had the barrel of his shiny gun against the head of a Hydra scientist, openly glaring at him with so much hatred and disgust. Ana was slumped against a metal table behind him, turning white and blue from the harsh cold and blood loss. She was breathing, but barely.

Jorah looked at the barrel of the gun, gulping thickly at the sight of it. His hands were frozen on the table, after the Winter Soldier had stormed in and forced him next to Ana, demanding him to stitch her wound up.

"But I'm a scientist, not a doctor!" He argued.

Bucky lowered the safety, making it click dangerously next to his ear. Jorah inhaled sharply and nodded, "Okay, comrade." He quickly answered.

Bucky watched him take out a metal box, lifting the lid up and taking out a few needles and string. He kept on glancing at Ana then Bucky with a unreadable glint in his eye. Bucky held in a groan, pressing his metal hand to his lower hip. The blood that was coming from the cut started to clot and he took a chair, dragging it next to the table Ana was on.

Jorah cringed at the loud scrapping of the metal legs on the hard concrete floor. He pulled his latex gloves on and went to cut open Ana's shirt. A metal hand clamped down on his wrist and squeezed, "Don't do anything stupid." Bucky drawled.

Jorah nodded, not lifting his eyes to the man. He cut the black shirt up the middle and pulled up the the flap with a tattered bullet hole. All he and Bucky saw was red, so much blood had escaped but the good news was that it stopped bleeding.

Then, Jorah wiped the red liquid clear and worked on stitching the wound. Bucky watched him intently, gun at the ready incase he decided to hurt Ana further. He had seen Jorah around the warehouse, and from everything he had heard, Jorah was a mad man.

When Jorah lifted the needle, tugging it upward, it signalled he had finished. Bucky then stood up and dragged him away from Ana, looking him in the eye. He didn't want to leave anything to chance.

"Where are all the provisions you made last week?" Bucky demanded, holding him by his white coat.

Jorah clamped his mouth shut and stayed quiet. Blue eyes flickering between his mouth and eyes, Bucky then forced his mouth open and took out the false molar, ignoring his cries. Jorah tried to push Bucky away, slapping at his chest, but he just snapped off the cyanide tooth and threw it to the side, taking Jorah by the throat.

"Cyanide tooth. You can't get away that easy. Where the hell are they?" He asked once more, pressing the barrel of his gun in-between his eyes.

"The body armour and arsenal were shipped off yesterday. And before you ask, I don't know where. Davos said they were going to another party." Jorah answered, gasping for breath when Bucky squeezed his metal hand tighter around his throat.

Bucky sent a single punch across his head, and Jorah fell backwards to the floor unconscious. He stared down at him until there was a small intake of breath behind him. Ana looked up numbly at the ceiling. She couldn't feel her hands or feet from the cold, but she could feel the throbbing from where she was shot.

There was a shadow that blocked the ceiling lights before Bucky's face came in. He looked at her with a frown, softly brushing the piece of hair in her face away. Her blue lips parted and her voice croaked as she tried to speak.

"So, my plan wasn't flawless." She muttered, cringing when she could taste blood in her mouth.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head at her. "You're an idiot, voin." He replied, earning an eye roll from her, though she pulled a weak smile.