#ismy own post tag idk why

[ajkal2]

Snowstorm (shatt,winter soldier au, 1/1)

The snow whirled, coating the world in white. Rocks were reduced to smudges of gray, trees to barely more than looming shadows. It seemed like the only colour in the world was the red blood trickling down Matt’s side.

He pushed on, chasing the black blur that danced ahead of him. He had to catch up, he couldn’t go through all this again, the empty leads and bases full of corpses, always being two steps behind. He knew deep in his bones that another half-year with nothing but smoke to chase would kill him.

The blur swerved left, veering towards a grey mass that might have once been a forest, and Matt pushed himself after. Dammit, Shiro’d always been faster than him, even before the War and the serums and the ice and-

His breath stuttered, caught up in memories, and he lost the black of Shiro’s coat. He cursed, pumping his legs. The trees enveloped him, and the world went suddenly quieter.

“Shiro!” he called, hoping, praying, “Kashi? It’s me, it’s OK, you don’t have to-”

Shiro came out of nowhere, arm against his throat, pinning him against a tree.

“Why are you following me?!” he barked, eyes wide “What do you want?!”

Matt drank in the sight of him, the new-old scar splitting his nose, the snarl curving his lips, the shock of white hair sprayed across his forehead.

Shiro pressed his arm in harder, cutting off Matt’s airflow for a few seconds, almost growling.  “WHO ARE YOU,” he roared, but Matt recognised that frustrated, choking tone, knew it from nights curled up together- but Shiro needed an answer.

“I’m your friend,.” he gasped, “Kashi-”

“Don’t call me that.” Shiro growled, almost flinching at the name, “I’m the Champion, I fight for the honour and glory of-”

“No you don’t, not anymore.” Matt blurted, hands grabbing at the metal arm still pushing against his neck, “You’ve been destroying their bases, haven’t you?”

Shiro’s breath hitched, his pupils wide. “I-I fight for…”

Matt longed to cup Shiro’s cheek, soothe the turmoil behind his eyes. Instead he went still, keeping his voice soft. “They sent you to kill me, remember? But you didn’t.“

“Couldn’t” Shiro muttered, trembling against him, “Mission failed. The Champion has never been defeated. I don’t- What-”

Matt let one of his hands go from the metal, carding through Shiros hair. Shiro tilted his head into the touch, just like a thousand times before, before all the mess. Matt shushed him gently, drawing him closer with gentle touches until he was in Matt’s arms, head tucked into Matt’s neck.

“Shhhh, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here, I’m so sorry, it’s all gonna be alright, I promise, I’m here,” he mumbled into Shiro’s hair, “We’ll be ok.”

Shiro just shook, like a wire pulled tighter and tighter and not sure how to loosen. “I don’t remember-” he started, voice choked, but Matt just kept on murmuring, stroking his hands down Shiro’s back.

The bark of the tree was rough,cold against his back. The snow kept on whirling around them, whiting out everything but the man in his arms.

That was OK. He didn’t need anything else. Matt tightened his hold, and clung on.