Author's Note: Haven't updated this in a while. But I LOVED writing this one-shot.

89) Talk to Me

Rough hands shoved me unceremoniously through the door. "Watch it!" I snapped as the metal door slammed shut.

"Sit down, agent," a calm voice commented. I whipped around to see an older man with light, graying hair and wrinkles sitting across a metal table from me. There was a metal chair on my side, but he was sitting in an armchair. He had blue eyes and was wearing a crisp suit. Knowing it would be better to comply simply for the sake of my life, I sat in the metal chair.

"Secretary Pierce," I greeted.

"Agent, have you any idea why you're here?" he asked.

I had my suspicions. Probably because I had been sneaking into that room with the shirtless guy with the tin foil arm for weeks and just talking to him. But I wasn't going to say anything.

"No," I sort-of lied.

Alexander Pierce sighed heavily and put the tips of his fingers together thoughtfully. "You're here because now you're the only one the Asset will talk to," he told me. I blinked in lieu of a response. I had no idea who "the Asset" was.

"Who?"

"The man you consistently go to talk to."

Ah. So this was about that.

"Okay?" I edged.

"He won't talk to anyone else. So you're no longer an agent of SHIELD. From now on you're an agent of HYDRA. And you answer to me."

Several warning bells and red flags were wailing and flying in my head. HYDRAHYDRAHYDRA, I thought, mind whirling around on itself too fast to make sense of anything. I cleared my throat. "And if I say no?" I asked carefully. Pierce shrugged, nonchalant and casual—impressive for how flippin' old he was.

"Then you'll be six feet under before you can say SHIELD."

"Hmm. Okay. When should I start?" Self-preservation wasn't one of my strong suits, but I would be more useful to SHIELD alive than dead. Hopefully.

Pierce stood up. "Now would be good." He went over to the wall and opened a door I hadn't noticed before—because it blended perfectly. He motioned for me to follow him. Standing from the uncomfortable chair, I moved so I was standing next to him. He pushed me through the door. I stumbled and landed on my knees, scraping my hands on the concrete. I winced as some blood beaded on my palms and looked up.

The man with the metal arm was staring at me, sitting in a chair with restraints on his arms. He wasn't wearing a shirt. In any other situation I'd be admiring his muscles and ogling. But as it was, he looked stripped. Half-naked. Injured. Agonized. Beaten up. Tragic. There was a blank stare in his eyes that killed me. No one should be treated the way he was.

I eased over to him, staying on my knees so he could see me and recognize that he was superior to me. Entreatingly I placed my hands on either side of his face. His empty blue eyes stared levelly at me.

"Talk to me," I whispered, pleading with him.

His tongue peeked out from between his lips to wet their dryness. "There's nothing to talk about, înger," he murmured quietly. The men in SWAT gear all around us tensed. I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my skull. He'd just called me angel in Romanian. Emotional bleed.

I turned pleadingly to Pierce. "He'll talk if we're alone," I said.

He nodded at the men. "Leave them."

The room emptied. Even Pierce retreated. I turned back to the man with the metal arm.

"What's going on?" I asked.

The man scrunched his eyes. "Wrong words," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Wrong words," he repeated, louder.

I wracked my brain. Pierce had given me no context on what I was supposed to talk to this poor tragedy about. But he'd never responded to my "What's going on?" like that before. So I sighed. "What should I say, then? What are the right words?"

He stared at my glabella for a while, like he was trying to think—or remember. "Mission… mission… mission… report."

I sighed again. "Mission report," I said.

"Failed. Target still alive," he replied robotically. "Third-party interference. Natalia Romanova." My eyes widened. Natasha. What was she meddling in? "Engaged and injured. Second attempt advised." It would have been foolish of me to assume that Pierce couldn't hear the conversation. I closed my eyes. There would be nothing I could do to protect Natasha now that the man with the metal arm—the Asset—had said her name out loud. All I'd be able to do was warn her. "Mission report concluded."

I opened my eyes. The blank, empty look in his eyes was gone—and I saw more emotional bleed. Fear. Pain. Anger. Confusion. All of it passed over his face in a series of micro-expressions that a normal person would have missed. I wished I could lay my head on his chest and hold him comfortingly, offering words of reassurance.

Yeah. That was a sure-fire way to end up dead on the floor.

"Thank you for the mission report," I said. He nodded—a single jerk of his head.

"What's going on?" I repeated.

"Pain. Hurt. My arm—" My gaze instinctively flicked to his metal prosthetic but he shook his head urgently. "Other arm." Talking to him was always just a few words or broken sentences. I looked to his other arm. The shoulder looked wrong.

"Dislocated?" I asked. Something lit up in his eyes and he nodded. "Want me to fix it?" He nodded again. I put my hands in the right spot to relocate his shoulder. "On three. One—" And I popped it back into place. He seethed in pain for a moment before he let out a shaking, shuddery breath and relaxed. I leaned closer to him to whisper in his ear, "Why do you call me înger—angel?" He turned his head towards me, eyes emptying again.

"You save me. We talk. You're kind. No one else is like you," he answered. I blushed.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

Pierce threw the door open, strolling in. "Good work, agent. Expect us to contact you again in a few weeks."

I nodded. "Yes sir." Standing up, I patted Bucky's shoulder and moved to leave.

"Oh, and agent! Don't even think about warning Romanoff."

I shook my head. "Wouldn't have dreamed of it."

End Note: Thank you all for reading! Hope you're enjoying these! There are still plenty more to come!

Shout out to PadawanLilia for reviewing a bunch of one-shots all at once! That made me smile! To "PocketRamblr": I wrote a whole lot for Bucky so I'm trying to get them all up on here (albeit slowly) but if you like the YouTubers Dan and Phil I have a Collection of One-shots for them as well if you want to break up the BuckyBuckyBuckyBuckyBucky. To "callieandjack": Yes, Clint will kill her, but it's TOTALLY worth it! To "RussianAssassin": SQUEEEE!