#okay this one was actually made like 2 days ago when the sam ba released and i had bas on my mind

[itsyourstarboy]

We should get an Adam BA where he kills us at the end

[silverarmedassassin]

Come Back to Me // Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2084

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident, traumatic brain injury, and memory loss. this is going to be pretty angst heavy throughout.

A/N: Feeling a little meh about this part. It’s too early in this process to be hitting writer’s block, lol. I’ll blame the current state of life and my decreasing motivation to do anything. 

Thanks for reading! Feedback is welcome :)

Come Back to Me Masterlist // Masterlist

Slowly but surely, the wires and tubes start disappearing. By your fifth day awake in the Compound, all but the heart monitor and a few electrodes are carted away from your room. Dr. Banner reassures you daily that you’re making “great progress,” and that, hopefully, your memory will return to normal soon. You’re still not sure what that means.

You sigh as you look towards the holoscreen Dr. Banner had installed in your room to occupy your time. You had access to thousands of T.V. channels from across the world and a seemingly endless supply of movies to watch, but you never took advantage. Instead, you kept a live feed of the Compound grounds on. Tony Stark had had a few of the security cameras’ feeds rerouted so you could have some kind of window to the outside world.

Between your bouts of unconsciousness and mindlessly watching the outside, members of the Avengers would trickle in from time-to-time. You’d met almost everyone on the team, even members you’d never knew existed. But, while you enjoyed getting to meet and know each of them, you’d found comfort in just a few.

Steve, of course, was at the top of your list. The super-solider had made a habit of visiting you daily, usually multiple times a day. He’d bring a meal and a deck of cards and spend hours telling you stories. He talked about everything - life growing up, his experience in the war. He talked about it all, but he would always tread lightly when the Soldier, Bucky you would remind yourself, was brought up.

You hadn’t seen Bucky since that first day, at least not fully. When Steve would stop by, you’d often catch a glimpse of the man just outside your door. You’d sometimes hear him talking with Banner after the doctor came to check on you, but Bucky never made it in the room. And for that, you were grateful.

The others didn’t mention him much, only Sam on occasion. But it was usually in an off-hand, humorous kind of way. That made you like Sam. Unlike Steve, he didn’t talk about Bucky like he placed the sun in the sky. You understood Steve’s fondness, remembered that they were childhood friends despite it all, but it still left a bad taste in your mouth. With Sam, though, it was jokes and conversations about learning to cope with this new, unfamiliar life you’d woken up in.

“Knock knock,” a voice sing songs from the doorway, drawing you from your thoughts. You look over to find Wanda with a large container of take-out in her hands. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face.

Wanda had quickly become another comfort during your time. She was caring, witty, and overall a great person to talk with. Aside from Steve, she spent the most time down with you. When it was announced you were awake and able to see visitors, she promptly brought you down a pair of pajamas and a decent stack of clothing so you wouldn’t have to lie around in the uncomfortable hospital gown.

“I figured you might be hungry, so I brought you a little something,” Wanda says as she moves to sit in the chair next to your bed. “How are you feeling today?”

You smile weakly. “Tired. My head kind of hurts, but I’m okay.” You shrug and take the container from Wanda’s outstretched hands. “You haven’t seen Steve, have you? He usually stops in by now.”

“The team got called out this morning. A few others and I stayed behind to man the Compound and take care of you,” Wanda smiles and winks. She knew how much you hated being doted on.

You and Wanda sit and eat lunch together. She’s in the middle of a story about her brother when there’s a soft knock on the door. When you turn, you find Dr. Banner’s smiling face peeking in through the crack.

“You’re awake,” he exclaims as he shuffles in, holopad in hand. “I’m glad. I have some news for you.”

Bruce brings over the roller chair, the only normal, doctor-like piece of furniture to be found in the high-tech room, and sits. “I’m pleased with the amount of progress you’ve been making. Brain activity is back in the normal range, your ribs are healing nicely, and your vitals have been steady. To the point where I feel comfortable releasing you from the medical wing.”

You perk up then, looking from Bruce to Wanda with a wide smile on your face. “I can go home?”

It’s not that you didn’t enjoy being at the Compound. The food was great, the company was even better, and, despite it all, you felt more relaxed than you had in years. But you were starting to get stir-crazy. You missed the routine of day-to-day life.

“Well, not exactly,” Bruce takes his glasses off and slips them on top of his head. “While I’m comfortable with you not being monitored twenty-four-seven, I would like to keep an eye on you, just until your memories return.”

“If they return,” you grumble.

“But,” Bruce ignores your offhand comment, “I’ve already talked with Tony about you staying, and he set up a room for you. It’s far more comfortable than this sterile place, and you’ll have an actual window to look out instead of a screen.”

“It’s right by mine and Steve’s,” Wanda says reassuringly as a grimace settles on your face.

“That’s nice and all,” you say, “but what about my life? Rent? My classes? I can’t just abandon everything.”

The duo shares a look before Bruce speaks. “You’re...you graduated two years ago. You don’t remember that?”

“Of course I don’t remember!” you shout. “I don’t remember anything. And it turns out I don’t even remember myself.”

You bury your face in your hands before they can see the tears in your eyes. It wasn’t right to shout, but you’re so frustrated and upset about the situation that it just happened. All you wanted was to go back to the city, see your friends, and return to normal life - whatever that looked like for you now.

Graduated? Two years ago? Exactly how much were you missing?

>>>

Dr. Banner was right, the room they set up for you was much nicer than where you were staying prior.

After your mini-meltdown, Bruce and Wanda explained that your expenses would be taken care of back home and that they’ve already been in touch with your boss. Apparently, he’d been very understanding of the situation. Wanda then wheeled you through the seemingly endless halls of the Compound pointing out various offices, rooms, and common areas before getting to your room.

It was definitely better than the medical ward room, twice the size even. Despite the ultra-modern design, it felt homey. Wanda informed you Steve and Sam had gone to your apartment in the city to grab some of your personal belongings so you didn’t feel so out-of-place.

It was nice seeing your favorite blanket draped across the bed and a stack of books on the nightstand. You can’t help but wonder if you’ve already read them or not. Wanda doesn’t leave you much time to think about that, though, as she is intent on showing you around your spacious living space.

The bathroom looked like it belonged in a space station and, if it weren’t for Wanda showing you, you probably would never have figured out the shower. She even showed you the closet, which was stocked, allegedly, with your own items.

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” you ask as you try and make yourself comfortable on the edge of the bed. “You don’t even know me.”

Wanda smiled sadly before coming over to sit next to you. “Oh, Y/N.” She wraps you up in a hug and doesn’t offer a proper explanation. “Why don’t you get some rest and we’ll talk more later?”

As she makes her way from the room, you realize how tired you’re actually feeling. Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

>>>

It’s not until several hours later that you wake up. By how dark it is in your room, you can tell it’s well into the night. Your mouth is bone dry, and you contemplate if it’s worth getting up to get something to drink when your stomach growls. That settles it.

As you carefully slide out of bed, you check the illuminated alarm clock that’s set on the bedside table. 2:15 a.m. When Wanda showed you around earlier, you didn’t see any of the other Avengers, so you assumed it was only Wanda, Bruce, and you at the Compound. Hopefully, you think, neither is still awake.

You decide to forego the wheelchair that Bruce had insisted you use when you came up to the room. The kitchen wasn’t too far, after all. You make your way down the dimly lit hall as quietly as you can. You don’t hear anyone else or see any lights on, so you figure you’re the only one awake.

Your stomach rumbles again as you get to the kitchen. Wanda hadn’t actually shown you where anything was, so you rummage through the cabinets before finding a few cans of soup. You grab a few to get a better look at your options.

“You’re up late,” a deep voice says from behind you.

You jump and drop one of the cans of soup onto the floor, startled from the unexpected guest. You turn to find Bucky standing on the other side of the kitchen island, watching you intently. He only breaks eye contact when he bends to pick up the can of soup that rolled across the kitchen.

“Wa-Wanda said I could help myself,” you say as he makes a face at the soup. “If it’s yours I’ll replace it, I promise.”

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky laughs, setting the can on the island. “But this stuff is awful. Wanda made spaghetti for dinner, have some of that.” Your eyes never leave him as he walks over to the fridge and pulls out a large bowl before also setting it on the counter and sliding it over to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as you peel back the cling wrap and place it in the microwave behind you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You felt uneasy having your back to Bucky, but it felt safer than having a staring match with the assassin. Ex-assassin, you remind yourself.

“Wanda wanted to wake you up for dinner, but I told her not to. Figured you needed the rest,” Bucky says. You turn slightly to look at him and offer a small, forced smile. You just wanted him to go away. When he starts rummaging around for a bowl and cereal, you realize he’s probably not going anywhere anytime soon.

“When did you guys get back?” you ask quietly as you turn back to the microwave.

“What? Oh, no I sat this one out. But the team isn’t back yet, part of the reason I’m up.”

To distract from the looming figure across the room and the knot in your stomach, you start going through the many draws looking for a fork. Bucky must catch on because, a few moments later, a fork is being slid across the sleek counter in the same manner as the bowl of spaghetti had been.

“Top drawer next to the fridge,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

The fact Bucky was being so nice, so generous was confusing to you. When you looked at or thought of him, all you could see was the silver-armed assassin who literally destroyed an entire block of D.C. and nearly killed his best friend. Making sure you were rested and fed was the last thing you’d ever imagined from him.

With the microwave beeping, you quickly grab the fork and bowl without letting it cool. You’d had no intention of eating in your room but staying out in the kitchen with Bucky was too uncomfortable. You thank him again and quickly shuffle back towards the hall your room is in.

“Hey Y/N?” Bucky calls from where he’s seated at the island. You stop and wait for him to continue. “I’m glad you’re okay. Really.”

You don’t turn, only nod and continue down the hall. You try to ignore the churning in your stomach as you do so.

>>>

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