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erelierraceala · 3 days ago

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Wait For It - Bucky Barnes

Chapter 3

Bucky Barnes x fem!medic!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 4,689

story content warnings: 18+ MDNI! war, violence, loss of limb, mental illness, medical talk and treatment, language, drinking, tense family situations, eventual smut, pregnancy scare, explosives. there’s fluff too, i swear!

Looking around, you saw the table the Commander had been on, overturned with half of the wood missing, decimated by the explosion. “Commander Walsh!” you shouted as loudly as you could into the burning hellscape that surrounded you.

“Over here!” came a choked up voice on the other side of the table.

As you dragged yourself in an army crawl toward the voice, you tried to look around to see the other men, but could only barely see an outline of their figures on the outskirts of the room, unmoving. Shit. Gritting your teeth, you moved faster, getting to the Commander and quickly looking him over to see if he needed stabilization before moving him. “My leg. Can’t move it. Tourniquet.”

“Come on, then,” you said as you positioned yourself beside him and hauled him onto your back. As you got to moving, you saw the snake-looking thing again behind a bookshelf that began to collapse, but this time there was more than one. You blinked again, and it too was burning away in the fires that were enveloping the house. Using what was left of your strength, you made your way to an opening in the side of the house that wasn’t there before, gasping for fresh air when you made it out.

Barnes woke up on your couch with a start, his light slumber being interrupted by the sound of something crashing to the ground in your bedroom. He quickly jumped up, grabbing the knife he kept on the coffee table when he slept as he started toward your room. His steps were quiet and calculated as he navigated the now familiar living space. Two steps this way, then take one to the left or else the floor board would creak. Three more steps and then he was outside of your bedroom door, silently turning the knob before lunging in, ready to take on any HYDRA member who had the guts to come after you.

Darting his eyes around the room, Barnes checked the space for safety. The window was closed and latched shut, the door connecting to the bathroom was ajar with the lights out inside, and the closet door was closed. No figures stood in any of the corners or behind the bedroom door. Quickly making his way to the bathroom, he opened the door and peered inside, not seeing anything out of the ordinary in the room or shower. The closet was cleared too when he swept through it to ensure no one was crouched down inside, ready to ambush either of you.

Coming back into the room, he saw that the sound that woke him up was the lamp on the ground beside your bed, having taken out a few other things on the way down. Once that was off of his list of concerns, he finally was able to turn his attention toward you. You were sat up with your head in your hands, shoulders moving up and down as your chest heaved with anxious breaths. "You okay?" he asked softly as he approached, crouching down to pick up the lamp and turn it on.

Light illuminated the space and as you took a deep breath while leaning back onto your headboard, Barnes saw a glint on your cheeks. Tears catching the light of the lamp that calmed your panic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you…" you managed to whisper after a few more beats of silence as your racing heart began to slow down.

"It's okay," he replied, his voice soft and soothing to your ears as the cotton feeling started to clear out from them. "What…what happened?" he asked tentatively as he crouched back down to pick up your phone and an empty glass that had fallen with the lamp.

"Nightmare. Of the IED. I…I haven't had one that bad in a while…" you told him, wiping away at the tears on your face with the back of your hand. "It all just…it all felt so real. It was like I was there again. I could practically feel the heat of the fires. Smell the smoke." A deep breath was let out of your lungs as you came back to reality, your head still lulled against the headboard as you whispered, "Thank you for checking on me."

Barnes nodded in reply, a glance at the time on your phone telling him it was around 4:30 in the morning. "Wanna go for a run?" he offered, knowing it was something that helped calm your nerves when you were stressed.

"I think that would help a lot," you said, a soft smile on your lips as you pushed the covers off of your legs. While you adjusted yourself to the side of the bed, he walked over to the closet and grabbed your running leg and handed it to you so you could start getting ready for the run. "Thanks," you told him, ducking your head down to get the prosthetic on while hiding the flustered look on your face.

Ever since that first night he stayed in your apartment, Barnes had become protective over you, and you couldn't help the butterflies it had started to ignite in your stomach. You tried to ignore them, though. He was just being polite, you told yourself.

He was starting to remember more of his past before enlisting into the war, and he had really started leaning into the charming mannerisms that were routine back then. Holding doors, moving chairs in and out from tables, carrying groceries into the building, and keeping a protective hand near the small of your back in crowded spaces had become routine during these weeks of living together.

He hadn't told you what the HYDRA officer had said to him that morning he went back to the bank to deal with them, he just couldn't bring himself to. You had a stressful enough job on top of tirelessly reading through HYDRA files and taking all sorts of notes that would help him clear his name. With all of that on your plate already, he didn't want to worry you even more with the threat of the organization that was no doubt rebuilding under everyone's nose.

So he protected you, even if you didn't truly realize it.

Every night while you were getting ready for bed, he did a sweep of the apartment to ensure that nothing was out of place and that every entry point was locked. When the two of you went out on runs, he opted for the early hours so there were less people - less threats. He insisted on going to the grocery store with you, even if it was after he had been working long hours on the latest no questions asked construction site. A suspicious glare was sent in the direction of every person who looked at you the wrong way - for all he knew, they were HYDRA.

Today's run followed this routine to a T. Early morning on a secluded running trail on the outskirts of the city, just the two of you. Even though he could run laps around the trail before you got one in, Barnes stayed loyally at your side, the occasional conversation breaking up the silence of the quiet morning. By the time the two of you had made it back to your car, the smile on your face from the endorphins was contagious, and he couldn't help but crack his own as you rambled on about how nice the park was that morning.

As you drove back to the apartment so the two of you could have a hearty breakfast after that run, you said off-handedly, "I think I'm gonna go to a meeting today at the VA. It's been too long since I've been to one, and I think the nightmare this morning was a wake up call. Literally."

Barnes nodded before telling you, "I'll be at the construction site until supper time. Foreman said he needed extra man power today."

"And by extra man power he definitely meant just you," you joked.

A quiet chuckle rumbled out of his chest at the joke before he said, "I do the work of ten men and he doesn't ask questions. That was the deal when I signed on."

"I'm glad you found something to take up your time. I'm sorry it's taking so long to figure all of this out," you told him. "I've got a bunch of evidence gathered, but finding the right lawyer that isn't gonna cost an arm and a leg is gonna be the hard part."

"Well, seeing as we could both get a new arm and leg to replace the cost…" he said, the smirk audible in his voice.

You couldn't help the laugh that poured out of you, the fit lasting the greater part of a minute before you finally were able to say, "I think that's the first joke you've told me. Didn't know you had a sense of humor, Barnes."

"Don't get used to it," he said, although the smirk remained on his lips as he stared ahead at the road leading to your apartment.

"Now just where the hell have you been?" Sam asked as you wandered into the room where his VA meeting was being held. "Was thinking about making a welfare check if you didn't show up within the next week!"

"Sorry, I've just been busy," you told him as you made your way to the stacks of chairs to start setting up.

"Busy enough to not come to a meeting for over a month? Man, they were really getting their money's worth for those last contract days," Sam said as he joined you in setting up the chairs. "Did you end up re-signing for another thirteen weeks?"

Shaking your head, you replied, "No, I'm taking some personal time right now before I decide on what to do. Sign back with the same company, sign on with Walsh, go somewhere else completely… Lots to think about that I didn't have time to before."

"Well, wherever you decide to go will be lucky to have you." Sam turned his head toward the sound of a knock on the door frame and the smile was evident in his voice as he called your name before saying, "Case in point, a man you saved!"

"So this is the paramedic you told me about," the voice said as he entered the room and came face to face with you. "Steve Rogers," he said, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Captain," you said as you shook his hand.

"Likewise," he said, an award-winning smile being flashed your way before he helped with setting up chairs.

The three of you fell into silence as the room was set up. As you were coming back from filling a container of coffee, you could hear the two men having a conversation in hushed whispers. It stopped abruptly when they heard your footsteps approaching the room, and the super soldier gladly took the load off of you, lifting the heavy container like it was nothing. "Thanks!" you told him before heading back to the small storage area to grab the chips and cookies that had been bought for the meeting.

The topic of the meeting was greatest fears after coming home from deployment. There was the standard gunfire and explosives, of which you were averse to as well, but when it came to your turn you had two things to offer up.

You told the group your name and branch of service before telling them, "One of my biggest fears after coming home from Afghanistan is snakes." This got a bit of a chuckle out of some people, so you elaborated, "I was a medic, and when I went in to patch up a Commander's leg after a firefight, an IED went off. Lost part of my leg in the blast. I don't remember everything from that night, and I don't know if I ever will, but I do remembering seeing snakes. If they were real or not, I couldn't tell you. All I know is that they scare the hell outta me now."

While thinking about your fears, a memory flashed through your mind as you took a moment to gather your thoughts.

Your body was still wracked with pain from yet another failed surgery to try and salvage what they could of your leg. It ended with a below the knee amputation, and you were not only dealing with physical pain, but phantom pain as your nerve endings tried to adjust to your new reality.

The door to your room bursting open distracted you for a moment as your mother flooded into the small space, coming to a halt beside your bed as the door slammed shut behind her. There were no balloons or flowers or stuffed animals or get well soon cards in her arms. Instead, she stood with her arms crossed and a scowl on her lips before she began pacing.

"Mom!" you said, relief evident in your voice to see her after so long.

"I hope the next words out of your mouth are 'you told me so,' young lady!" your mother snapped. Your brain didn't even have time to process what she was saying before she barreled forward, nearly shouting, "What did I always tell you? Become a doctor! A PA! Even a nurse! But what did you go and do instead? You joined the Army and got yourself blown up!" There was a look in her eyes that you couldn't place, and didn't even get the chance to as she said, "All I wanted for you was to have a respectable career and to make a life for yourself! I had your name on lists to get into the best medical schools in the country! I threw around my name and risked my career to get your opportunities that you wasted!"

Your already erratic emotions clutched at your chest and your felt your throat tighten with emotion as you tried again, "Mom, I-"

"'I'm sorry' better be next!" she spat. "I don't even know who I'm looking at anymore! You're a shell of the person you were! What happened to my happy little girl who was full of life? I don't even know you anymore…"

That was the last time you had heard more than ten words at a time from your mother. And it was at a time when you needed her support the most.

You shook the memory from your head as you came back to reality, not sure how long you spaced out while the memory hit you. Tears pricked the backs of your eyes as you told the meeting attendees, "My greatest fear, though, is abandonment. I…I've made it my personal mission to never abandon anyone in their time of need." That same tightness began to squeeze at your chest, and you knew that there wasn't much more time before your emotions got the better of you. So, you cleared your throat once more and managed to choke out a quiet, "Thanks for listening," and hurried back to your seat.

For the rest of the meeting, you did your best to pay attention, but your anxiety was putting in the work to keep your mind occupied. The only thing that was able to yank you out of your tumultuous thoughts was when you heard Captain Rogers say, "My best friend. Bucky Barnes. He was the reason I wanted in so badly. He saved me more times than I could count, and I just wanted to have the chance to do the same for him. And I did. Until I couldn't. I guess my greatest fear is not being able to save the people I love. Thanks."

After the meeting had concluded, you got all the way to your car before realizing that in your anxious spiral, you had forgotten your water bottle in the room. It kept your drink cold or hot for hours on end, so you didn't want to lose it.

The building was practically empty for the evening, with Sam's having been the last meeting of the day, and you made sure to keep your footfalls soft as you walked back to the meeting room. You were trying to be as small as you felt, and your quiet steps reflected that.

When you got close to the room, though, you heard the now more open conversation happening between Sam and Captain Rogers. "I just think we need to be cautious about this, man," Sam said warily.

"I know, but I think we have a sure shot at getting to him with what we know now," Steve told him. What he said next made you freeze in your tracks. "Bucky's spent years evading capture. If we don't act while he's still in the city, I may lose him again."

"How much do you trust the intel Nat gave you?"

"With my life," he said seriously.

Your body went into autopilot as you turned around and just as silently exited the building. That familiar roaring that accompanied your anxiety filled your ears, and you barely heard the honk of a car horn as you dashed out the door and into the parking lot. With that jolt back into reality, you gave the driver a sheepish wave before continuing on to your car. The drive back to the apartment was rushed, and you were so lost in your anxious thoughts that you weren't sure if you had run any red lights or not.

Rushing into the apartment as fast as you could, you pulled out your phone and dialed the burner phone Barnes had been using since he started staying with you. "Come on, come on, pick up!" you grumbled as you listened to the ringing of the line. When he didn't pick up, you dialed again, desperate to get a hold of him. If someone else knew his whereabouts, surely it wouldn't be hard for the government to track him down and take him in for the crimes he had no choice in committing.

It was a long ten minutes of pacing the living room of your apartment, feeling like your brain was a spinning tire without traction. Anxious thoughts sent you spiraling and unable to piece two coherent thoughts together to even start to come up with a plan on what to do if Sam and Captain Rogers were coming to get Barnes. You were blank, running into wall after wall as executive dysfunction wrapped around you like a vice.

The opening of the apartment door and Barnes' heavy backpack hitting the floor made you jump as you were abruptly thrown out of the anxiety spiral by the noise. "We need to get you outta here," you blurted once you turned to face him.

"What's going on?" he asked, sensing the anxiety rolling off of you in waves.

"Someone has intel on you. Overheard at the VA meeting. If they can find out where you are, then-"

"HYDRA can too…" he muttered, running a hand over the beard on his chin. "Shit…" he whispered as he started moving around the living space, grabbing odds and ends to throw into his backpack.

With the visual queue prompting you to start gathering things too, you went to your room and closed your curtains before starting to grab some basics you needed if you had to flee. As you did, though, the thought crossed your mind that what if Barnes had no intentions of you going with him? What if his frantic gathering of his sparse belongings was just to get himself out of there and away from the hands of anyone trying to track him down? What if-

As Barnes was partway through shoving a box of granola bars into his bag, he heard it. The faint sound of voices outside. He focused his hearing further and could barely distinguish the sound of tools scraping on metal. Right outside of your bedroom window. Without a second thought, he yanked his backpack on one shoulder and dashed to your room, lifting you off of your feet and slinging you onto his shoulder before bolting toward the front door of the apartment.

You were so shocked at the sudden upheaval and fast sprint outside that you didn't even realize that as Barnes had you over one shoulder, he had also picked up the motorcycle he had been using to get around in the other, taking you and it a few blocks away before jumping on and starting the engine. Everything felt robotic and automatic as you threw your leg over the back of the bike and grabbed a hold of Barnes' bag so you wouldn't fly off the back when he tore off down the road at breakneck speed!

"Did you hear that? The motorcycle starting?" Steve asked Sam as he worked on getting into the window of the apartment Natasha reported she had seen Bucky go into.

"Dude, that was blocks away. Focus!" Sam said, tossing a look over his shoulder for any onlookers. "We just barely got off the hook for what happened with SHIELD, I'm not looking for a breaking and entering charge if we get caught."

"That'll be the least of our worries if he's hostile once we get in here," Steve said as he heard a satisfying click before he gently pushed the window up so they could climb through.

Steve held a finger up to his lips to silence Sam before gently grabbing the curtains blocking the window so he could peer inside. His heart rate climbed into his throat as he slowly opened the curtain up, the reason being anticipation to see his friend again or adrenaline to prepare for a fight, he wasn't sure. He was met with a bedroom with no one inside as far as he could tell, so he gave Sam the signal that he was heading in and for him to follow.

The room was neat, with a properly made bed and shoes lined up by the closet. A glance into the bathroom revealed neatly racked products and brushes, with everything having a place on the counter or shelves. Everything seemed to be in order besides a few shirts tossed onto the ground, which seemed odd for such an orderly looking room. It was clearly a woman's apartment, but he trusted that Natasha had told them the right place to look.

Steve had begun quietly making his way toward the bedroom door as Sam finally made it through the window, and peeked out into the living space before he began to sweep the area for evidence of his friend. He didn't give Sam time to look around the space before moving into the rest of the apartment, quickly clearing the living room and kitchen, as well as the linen closet. His heart sank at the fact that Bucky wasn't there, but there had certainly been a quick getaway from the place. There was a dropped and abandoned box of granola bars, a pocket knife, and ball cap on the ground around the living room. Again, a sharp contrast to how neat the rest of the space was.

A quick glance at the wall revealed why the space was so organized. "Whoever's housing him is military. Purple Heart," Steve announced to Sam as his friend finally made his way out of the bedroom.

"Yeah, and I know who it is…" Sam deadpanned as he showed Steve a picture that had been on the nightstand in the bedroom. It was of you and your medic partner, Manny, standing outside of Walter Reed after you had recovered from your amputation. He ran a hand over his head as he muttered, "Man, what's she gotten herself into?"

He placed the picture down on the coffee table before asking with a bit of sharpness in his tone, "Why didn't we know about who was housing him? If Nat knew about which apartment he was staying in, then surely-"

"If she knew, she would have told us," Steve interrupted.

"Seems like a big thing to not know!" Sam snapped. "Now she's out there with one of the most dangerous assassins in history, with HYDRA breathing down her neck, along with the entire US government and the FBI!"

"Sam, he isn't-"

"We don't know that! What we know is that there's a book of trigger words out there to activate him into a killer, and guess who's right there with him!"

"I have Natasha working on tracking down the book as we speak, Sam! As long as she finds it before they do, then we'll have the upper hand when it comes to deprogramming him!"

"And what if she doesn't find it? Huh? What if one of those HYDRA agents we have no idea the identity of gets their hands on it first? What if someone who knows the words finds him before we can?"

Sam's eye caught a glimpse of another picture you had on the wall, one of you with your EMTs at your last birthday party. Seeing your smiling face reminded him to take a moment, so he paused, a deep breath following to calm himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. She's like a sister to me and she's been through enough already. I don't want her getting hurt."

"If she's with Bucky, she isn't getting hurt," Steve said quietly. He gestured to the clearly slept on couch and the extra pair of boots sitting by the door as he said, "He's been living here. I can assume since we took down HYDRA. If there's one thing I know about Buck, it's that he'll protect the people he cares about until the end."

"Steve…" Sam said warily.

"I know you don't trust him because of what he did as HYDRA's puppet, but that isn't him. The man I knew back in the '40s wouldn't do those things. And I could see it in his eyes that day. He was starting to remember. If he's had that much time and has been living here with her since…"

"Then maybe he has control again… Man, I hate when you're right…" Sam muttered. "So, what do we do now? Since we know who he's with, track her down and find him? As much as I hate to say that…"

Steve shook his head, saying, "No. I think we wait 'til Nat has what we need…"

During this conversation, he had spotted a manila folder on a bookshelf and pulled it out, opening it to reveal file after file of HYDRA documents with sticky notes all over. The notes were on how Bucky wasn't to blame for what he did as the Winter Soldier. He showed Sam the folder and said, "She's gotten a lot of research done to prove his innocence, but a lot of it's classified. If we work with Nat, I think we can get everything we need to clear his name. If we wait until then, maybe we'll have a better chance of him not bolting."

"What's stopping HYDRA from finding them?" Sam asked.

"Call me when your girlfriend works in the intelligence community," Steve said with a quiet chuckle as he picked up the files. "One false tip on his location that looks like it's from a reliable source and HYDRA is across the globe on a manhunt for a ghost. Nat knows what she's doing."

"Fine, but I think we're gonna need more than just the three of us to pull this off," Sam pointed out.

"Well, good thing I got a call from Maria about joining her at Stark Industries. They're wanting to start up the Avengers to deal with HYDRA, and I think they could use all the hands they can get," Steve told him. "We have a common goal here, even if they might not see it at first."

"Like I said, I hate when you're right…" Sam muttered as they started to make their way out of the apartment.

a/n: ahh! it's been so long since i updated this, whoops! but! guess who has a whole house and a mortgage now?? me! so exciting! we drove three and a half hours yesterday for lots of free house things and i have zero regrets about it! now for a registry and then housewarming party once the floors and walls get done! then graduation in 47 days and i'll have so much more free time!

anyways! i love going back and reading the early parts of this story! i'm currently plotting for and writing book 2 chapter 5 and it's gonna be an exciting one! i didn't have much time to write the last few weeks and now that i do (at least a little bit) i feel very happy!

as always, likes and comments are greatly appreciated!

until next time! xo!

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erelierraceala · 3 days ago

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Bucky Barnes x Reader Chapter 5 sneak peak

Context: After being rescued as a HYDRA experiment, you've been staying in your room and quiet all week, making Bucky feel a need to break the silence

"Unspoken"

A few days had passed since you had been brought to the tower, leaving unspoken scars behind. Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what to say or do about any of it. Ever since you had been released from the med wing, you had settled into the quarters Tony had prepared for you, conveniently placed a few doors down from his own. A precaution in case you tried to attack again, or a small mercy granted to keep you within reach if needed. Either way, it made him a bit more at ease knowing you were close by if anything went wrong. He hadn’t seen you leave your room only a few times to grab some snacks or look around the lounge area for the team. You hadn’t left the tower to go outside even once, so cooped up that even Tony had expressed a few concerns to the others despite his distrust towards you. A heavy silence hung in the air, as you barely spoke unless anyone asked you a direct question. Quiet, too quiet for Bucky’s liking. Usually, he preferred the silence. The less noise, the better for him, unless it was some of the music he listened to while on rides. Now he craved even a whisper more than anything, if it meant you were okay.

Healing took time; old wounds close slowly. Bucky knew that, so he wasn’t expecting a sudden recovery or anything. Only when he looked at you did he see a shell of a person sitting on the same spot on the bed you always occupied.

Afternoon Sunlight shimmered off the sea of buildings outside the window, reflecting off the windows holding so many souls inside. Vast and endless, it all seemed, as if the city would never end. At night, lights would flicker to life, making the city look like stars twinkling on the

ground. Each light would eventually turn off as people went to sleep, returning to normal dreams with normal lives waiting for them in the morning.

Sometimes, you were jealous of how people walked around blissfully unaware of how lucky they were to have such lives. Other times, you wondered if the lives HYDRA forced you to take had families, friends, or jobs waiting for them back at home.

Over the past few days, you had fallen into a dismal routine. Eat, shower, stay quietly in your room for hours, and repeat. Sleep didn’t come easily these days, unless it was from pure exhaustion of your injuries. Nightmares had wrecked your mind every night. At least the room was nice, much nicer than anything you had ever had before. Piles of shopping bags lay in the corner, left untouched. Pepper Potts, or Miss Potts as Stark’s AI Jarvis always called her, had insisted on helping you out once she heard about your whole ordeal. She was motherly in a way that made you uncomfortable. People like you, people who had killed other people, didn’t deserve the kind words or tea she had brought you while telling you trivial details of running the company. Most of the names on the tags were designer as far as you could tell, only making you feel more out of place. Not that you weren’t appreciative, just another reminder of the reality you were now literally surrounded by billionaires, soldiers, and some of the best fighters on Earth—a reality you didn’t deserve.

Bucky found you sitting by the window on your bed, staring wistfully outside as if you were lost in another time or place, like always. Usually, he would leave you alone, but right now, he needed to make sure you were okay.

How did you even start a conversation like this? If Steve had been here, he would have known what to say. Moments like these were when he wished he could bring back the old Bucky, the Brooklyn man who could charm anyone in a few words, flirty even. That man was dead and had been for a long time. Maybe he could muster a little bit of what was left of him, buried deep beneath the layers of pain and bloodshed.

The clicking of his tactical gear being removed snapped you out of your focus on the window, as you turned to see Bucky standing there, leaning against the doorframe. Gunpowder and a hint of dust filled the air.

“How was the mission?” you asked, scanning him for any other details. Bucky had noticed how your eyes always looked around, analyzing, always on guard as if needing to be constantly aware of your surroundings. Old habits died hard, especially with HYDRA.

“How did you know?”

“The gear was enough of a tip,” you continued, “I can also smell the residue of the powder, and there’s a fresh cut on your upper right eyebrow.”

“Observant,” he looked around the room, “How are you doing?”

“How do you think?!” you snapped.

Great, this conversation is already off to a good start. So much for first impressions, Buck.

“Fair enough,” Bucky scratched the back of his neck nervously, “I should have guessed as much.”

Looking away, you mumbled some sort of apology for snapping.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said before trying to change the conversation, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” you admitted, bringing your knees closer to your chest. A defensive gesture, he recognized, signaling you were scared. At least you were talking, which was a small step. “The room is nice. Mr. Stark was kind enough to take me in.”

“One way of putt’n it,” Bucky scoffed, “Tony does most things as a way of bragging about himself one way or another. Once this goes public, he’ll be seen as a philanthropist. He’ll use any chance to show off his money.”

Disappointment almost crossed your face, even if you had already considered there could be ulterior motives for keeping you here outside of the pureness of his heart, “I guessed as much. Keeping an assassin from HYDRA could raise suspicion.”

Bucky sighed, “You’re not going back there, okay? Nobody will make you. Even if Stark has his personal reasons for concern, he won’t send you back.”

“I can see the way they look at me,” you said, staring ahead at nothing in particular. All of them are scared of me. They try to hide it, but I can still see it.”

He slowly took a few steps closer before stopping when you flinched. Trust didn’t come easily after surviving HYDRA. He would have to do this slowly.

“Easy,” he held his hands up, “I’m not here to hurt you. I only wanted to talk.”

“About what? Is this a test?”

“No, not tests,” he clenched his hands at his side, holding his breath as he remembered his own.”There are no tests here, no experiments, no orders. I promised.”

Sheets bunched in your fist as you took deep breaths; you’re safe, you’re safe.

“Take deep breaths,” a shadow passed over you as he finally stood before you, “That’s it.”

Bucky was sure his presence wasn’t the most comforting thing. An imposing former assassin with a metal arm stood there as still as a statue.

“I was there for years,” the words hardly a whisper, unsure why they tumbled out, “I had to go through all these tests, and I-”

“You don't have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he assured you, taking a small step closer. Getting a closer look, he could see the remaining scars in a ring around the neck of the collar he’d torn off days before. Dark shadows grew under your eyes; nightmares, like his own. Those wouldn’t go away anytime soon. Every night, he still had them even after all this time. A small, twisted patch of skin snaked with lines left from a burn peeked out from your hoodie’s sleeve. Whether the burn was from HYDRA or another part of your life, he wasn’t sure. The only thing he knew was that the strange hint of white tucked in your hair was too unnatural not to be from those monsters.

“No, you don’t understand,” you choked out, “I killed people, they forced me.”

Ironic, here you were confessing to murder in front of one of HYDRA’s most infamous killers. Anger rose within him, threatening to spill out right now. For you, for his past, for HYDRA’s very existence. Bucky had seen the monsters, been at their hands, and nearly became one himself. Yet, looking at the near-broken person in front of him, it was as if he could truly see what monsters were for the very first time.

“I did too, we both did,” Bucky saw the way your eyes turned to disbelief, “For years, decades. It’s a long story.”

“You did?” The puzzle pieces fell into place. The strange, unspoken connection you shared now had meaning. “I don’t understand, you’re so… nice.”

Bucky nearly gave an inappropriate laugh for the serious moment, “Nice? I think that’s the first time anyone’s called me that. Murderer, scary, terrorist. Never nice.”

“But you got me out of there, and when I nearly tried to,” you hesitated, “Kill you, you didn’t take your opening.”

What had they done to you to make you think not taking an open shot the moment he had it was nice? He had forgotten how much damage HYDRA could do to your sense of basic humanity.

“None of that was your fault,” he lowered himself to your eye level, making sure to keep distance as he repeated, “None of it was your fault.”

Finally able to look him in the eyes, his gaze was evidence enough he was telling the truth- the story written in the ache in the tormented stare.

“I should have remembered you, I should have,” you let out a shuddering breath. “You weren’t the enemy. HYDRA told me.”

“Lies,” he interrupted, “Everything they tell you is lies. Whatever they said to you, forget it. Now.”

Weak. Useless. Stupid. So it was all lies?

Bucky went on, “We both survived stuff nobody should. Lived through torture, manipulation…it’s all manipulation. Some twisted game of theirs. None of it was our fault.”

Maybe he was reminding himself of that, too.

“How long do the nightmares keep you up?” he asked.

“How did you know?”

“Observant,” his mouth quirked up to a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’m an assassin, remember?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “Only for a few hours, I’ll survive.”

Bucky got up and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he stole a glance at a slice of pizza far past being cold, sitting on a plate at your bedside table.

“Are you eating enough?” he raised an eyebrow, as if challenging you to argue on this. Good thing one of your best skills was winning an argument.

“I’m suited to go days without food,” you replied, “Eating it would be a waste of supplies.”

Wow, he really had forgotten how bad the conditioning was.

“It won’t be a waste, and you’re not some machine anymore,” he said, “You have to eat.”

“No, I don’t. I still have at least 42 hours before I need to eat again,” you insisted.

Nope, Bucky couldn’t sit back and watch you suffer any longer. The shallowness of your cheeks was enough to indicate the lab had been starving you for a while. Probably some test of endurance.

He picked up the plate and shoved it into your hands. “Eat. Now.”

“Orders? I thought I didn’t take any orders here?”

“I’m not ordering you,” he ran a hand through his brown hair in frustration, “Nobody will order you here, but I can’t sit back and watch you starve.”

A small, perfectly timed growl came from your stomach. Great, thanks for betraying me.

Typically, in the lab, Handler would have slapped you across the face by now for a show of weakness. Anything human seemed to be a weakness there. Instead, Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to sink a bit with his weight, keeping a distance between the two of you.

“I’m not ordering you, and I’m not asking either,” Bucky assured, “I’m just concerned, doll.” The nickname rolled off his tongue before he could even think. An old-timey one, Sam had warned him a few times in the past, may not be as well received in the 21st century. Back in the day, he probably would have used it with a girl he had gone on a few good dates with, so why would he use it now? At least you didn’t seem to mind as far as he could tell, or you hadn’t noticed it.

Concern wasn’t something you had received in a long time, considering such a thing didn’t exist in HYDRA’s vocabulary. After living so long without kindness, would you know how to take it?

“Do you not like pizza?” Bucky asked tentatively. “I don’t know,” you admitted. He had forgotten those days, days full of not knowing your name, how to pick your clothes, or something as basic as picking what food you liked.

‘Maybe you can find out,” he suggested, looking over at you. Taking one step away from the programming, away from orders to make your own choice for once, felt exciting. Nights alone in your cell had been filled with dreams of such things. Visions of freedom, running far away from the lab where nobody could tell you what to do, and nothing could stop you from touching the stars if you wanted. Those nights had kept you alive while pain from unknown injections had filled your veins with fire, as you tossed and turned, trying to keep the orders out of your head, scratching at the fresh cuts from "training" all day. A small light in a world made of darkness. Now, you weren’t sure if you could make a choice.

“I guess so.” Unsure, you took a small nibble of the slice, testing the waters. Then another, and another, and another. How hungry had you been? “Good,” Bucky wanted to give you a small pat on the back before thinking better of it, unless he wanted a quick elbow to the rib.

“Do they still put pineapple on pizza?” you asked suddenly. A lot may have changed while you were at HYDRA.

“Yes,” Bucky nearly grimaced, “Worst invention I’ve seen yet in this century.”

“Seriously? Pineapple isn’t that bad on pizza,” you protested, “It’s creative.”

“It’s an abomination,” Bucky smirked, unable to drop the subject suddenly, glad to have a normal conversation with you for a change.

“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, already reaching for another slice from the box Happy had left at your door hours before. The action warmed his heart a bit, even if it were small, it was a sign of improvement. How could a random stranger like you have managed to make him feel so many things he hadn’t in years in only a few days?

Feel things he thought froze in the ice along with him. Now, the cold was melting away, bit by bit.

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