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“Kill her.” The agent growled into Bucky’s ear. “The girl needs to learn her lesson.”
They were always so careful, so vigilant, but the first afternoon they’d let their guard down for even the slightest second would turn out to be the last. There was no way to hide anything, because there was no way his life was allowed to be his.
Bucky's arm was shaking, the small pistol aimed straight at her head.
No one else would think of looking into the alleyway. They’d hear the shot, but that would be it. He couldn’t save her.
“You never actually loved her.” The agent smirked. "You were lonely, and you were desperate, and you were pretending.”
She knew that wasn’t true, and she knew Bucky didn’t want to do this. All of the times they’d lay in bed and talked- when she’d try to help him reclaim some of his memories, after he’d escaped- he’d told her he hated the person they’d made him become.
“You’re going to plant a bullet right between her pretty little eyes, and then you’re going to clean it up. Every last blood stain."
“No.” He whispered. “No. I’m not your puppet.”
The agent hesitated, before picking up his own gun, aiming it at Bucky. “I’m giving you five seconds before the both of you are dead.”
She could…
Her mind was swimming; she could barely focus on anything else.
“Five.”
But she could…
He’d told her how to hide the little gun; he’d shown her how to use it. He’d said not to unless it was an emergency, and this was one.
“Four."
But would her aim be good enough?
“Three."
She reached for it quickly.
It happened before she could blink.
Two gunshots rang out, one after the other, and two bodies fell to the ground, blood spilling out onto the pavement below them.