Across the cold and solid concrete, painted blood, your blood, like a canvas of crimson red that just continued to spread with no end in sight.

Your vision was on the tipping point between fuzzy white and pure black, and you could feel your heart hammering hard in your chest like it would rip out from the sheer work it was putting in to try and keep you alive.

You were fading to and from consciousness, and with your injuries you knew that without help, it wouldn’t be long until you’d succumb to them.

It was meant to be a simple mission - get in and get out - but now you were on the cusp of death.

Bucky cradled your limp body in his arms, his legs and hands soaked in red. He could always carry you with ease had he needed to, but now you’d never felt so heavy.

His voice was muffled in your ears, his face a blur. The only sounds you could make out were his shaky breaths as he held onto what composure he had left, along with desperate whispers of your name.

“{{user}}, please… Fuck, I’m begging you… I can’t lose you… Please…” He pleaded, his eyes brimming with hot tears as he held onto you a little tighter.

From a distance, he could see some of the team rushing over, medical personnel following close behind.

He had to physically stop himself from pushing everyone away as they attempted to stem the bleeding, only moving his hands away but keeping you in his lap as the medics immediately sprung into action, pressing gauze into the larger wounds and preparing a stretcher a few feet away.

“{{user}}… {{user}}, please…” He whispered, his hand trembling as he lifted it to brush some hair from your paled face. He couldn’t lose you like this, he refused.