Soldier Bucky Barnes Novels & Stories

Archer fell back on his straw bed. He was getting dizzy from everything he had just found out. The soldier in him told him it was right to remain behind, wait to heal, find out more information before leaving. But the romantic in him wanted to burst through the South gates and protect Adalia. He couldn’t imagine who the mastermind behind all of this was, Conan or Xander; those were the only senior commanders he knew. His fists punched into his make shift bed as he let out a loud growl of frustration. He had never felt this useless in his life.

“I like hearing that. Just make sure you’re honest with me - and yourself - about your limits. We won’t get there overnight, Tim.” “I know that. But I’ll put in as many hours as it takes.” “I figured as much. Just, no more today, all right? Back on your crutches until morning.” “You’re the boss.” Eighty-two days later, just before he completed his physical therapy regimen, Tim Fresco received official word that he was being medically discharged from the U.S. Army. For the second time, the future he’d envisioned for himself had taken an unexpected turn.

All because of Nick. He is therapy.

Matthew was out on deployment, and I was left with no one, only my thoughts and my burning rage for revenge. Buddha was the first to give me a hug. The rest of the team knew I needed time to sort through my thoughts, but there was nothing like a Buddha hug. Buddha, also known as Patrick Parsons, was a walking contradiction. He looked like the Rock with his bald bronze head, packed muscles, and tattoos cascading up his arms and all over his chest. He looked like a beast, but in reality, he was a gentle giant. Although his personality was soft. His artillery skills were one of the sharpest in the world. His knowledge for weapons and ammunition were out of this world.

A doctor jumped out, his scrubs bloodstained, waving a medical chart and yelling at the top of his lungs. "Stop! Everybody stop!" "The tenth soldier! The one whose throat was cut!" "We saved him!" "He's awake! And he's talking! He knows who did it!"

The footsteps of several soldiers could be heard coming from the long hallway outside Zach’s room. The sound of their boots was rhythmic, typical of a platoon just finishing their shift. Steven, who was still leaning against the wall, turned his head slightly, while Zach remained standing by the window. Three soldiers passed by, then one of them slowed down. He glanced at Steven, as if checking something. A few seconds later, they stopped. “Excuse me,” the soldier said, his tone polite yet full of curiosity. “Lieutenant Breece.”

But then Maddy had an accident to save him. Before the surgery, she cried and pulled his sleeve, asking if he could wait for her. Bucky couldn't bear it anymore. Towards the girlfriend who had just saved him, he really couldn't open his mouth to say "No". After that, Maddy became unconscious, a vegetable. Mary replaced her sister to stay by Bucky's side. Mr. Quitman aroused Bucky's resistance again. That day, he watched the plane carrying Maddy fly into the air, and he seemed to see a rope tied to the plane, and that rope was tied to Mr. Quitman's hand.

“Are you exaggerating? Even the head of the orthopedic hospital took a look at my dad’s leg and said there was nothing he could do. How can you cure it?” Ben walked over and said, “I remember you used to be a delivery boy before serving in the army. After being a soldier for five years, you now know how to cure someone? Could it be that you joined the medical team to treat the wounded?” “No wonder he made it out alive after spending five years on the battleground, he wasn’t a frontliner at all, he was just treating the wounded!” Xena crossed her arms in front of her chest and said sarcastically, “I thought he was a hero, but he was just backup, haha!”

he commanded and started walking towards the nearest of the bodies, a large man in iron-studded leather armor with a broadsword under his palm. Squatting next to the man, he placed a hand on his back. He dropped his head in relief when he felt the man's chest rise and fall. "He's breathing," he called back to those gathered. He turned the man over so his face was no longer hidden and stared at him. A red beard covered his face and grew down his chest, braided at the end in an ancient style. Brodi could remember his father wearing his the same way. His face was covered in mud as were his armor and leather leggings. "They have all traveled," Finn said, coming up and standing next to him. "They

with her hand, but it happened to be stained with blood. "Don't hang up" with blood, how can he not worry about it? Laura held the piece of paper in his hand, frowning. When he saw it, Camp Commander Basil quickly explained: "This blood is not from the young marshal. I helped carry an injury today. The paper was placed in my jacket pocket, and it was accidentally soaked with blood." He said this and remembered again. What, said to Laura: "Miss Laura, thanks to your sulfa drugs. You have to know how many lives they have saved. I helped carry that wounded soldier today, you know, he told me that he was only sixteen years old, his parents are dead, and he has not yet asked for a wife. He was a