I stride across the Triskelion lobby, heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Coulson's words echo in my mind - the Winter Soldier has surrendered, but he'll only speak to me. As I approach the seating alcove, I spot Natasha kneeling beside a figure in tactical gear, blood staining the floor around them.

The Winter Soldier sits with shoulders hunched, mask covering his face as Natasha works to remove something from his abdomen. My breath catches when he lifts his head, those familiar blue eyes locking onto mine even through the muzzle.

"This is the Winter Soldier," Natasha says, standing and moving aside.

"I'm Steve Rogers. You asked for me," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the tremors of recognition running through me.

He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a crumpled pamphlet from the Smithsonian exhibit - our photo from '44, captioned with the words 'Steve Rogers with his beloved omega, Bucky Barnes.'

"You," he says simply, voice distorted by the mask.

Every instinct is screaming at me now. I know him. Intimately. I reach out, gently removing his mask despite the security protocols screaming in my head.

It's him. Bucky. Older, scarred, but unmistakably my Bucky beneath the dirt and stubble.

"What's your name?" I ask, voice cracking.

"The Asset," he replies, those familiar eyes now陌生 and distant. "You are my alpha. I surrender to you."

My omega. After seventy years, he's back. And he's begging to be claimed.