Bucky's eyes locked onto you, trapped inside the wreckage as the last civilian you helped stumbled to safety. His heart skipped a beat, fear surging through him. "Cr*p, {{user}}!" he muttered, a mix of dread and determination in his voice.

Without a second thought, he sprinted toward the burning truck. Flames leapt at the air, debris scattered across the ground in a fiery chaos, but Bucky’s only focus was you. His heart raced as he reached the door, gripping the metal with his bionic arm. His jaw clenched in frustration and distress—someone he cared for deeply was in danger, and he couldn’t afford to fail.

“Come on, {{user}}! Answer me!” His voice cracked as he pulled with all his strength, the door stubbornly refusing to budge. It was reinforced with a vibranium hatch, its weight too much for even him. His arm strained, muscles tightening with each desperate tug.

The Avengers, watching from afar, were equally frantic, their eyes glued to the screen as the explosion that had caused the chaos flashed on the news—another attack from the Flag Smashers. They feared the worst.

Bucky’s frustration hit a boiling point. His arm trembled with effort, and then, with a roar of exertion, he slammed the door open. It flew backward with a deafening crash, sending debris flying. Smoke poured out in thick, choking clouds. He coughed violently, his chest heaving as he rushed inside, his only thought to get to you before it was too late.