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Your back slammed heavy against the floor of the ring. It was the third time in as many minutes that you’d been thrown off your feet. You huffed the hair from your eyes, pursing your lips in a frown as you stared up at the man responsible for the current ache pulsing through your shoulders. Bucky shook his head, chuckling as dark hair swayed over his eyes.
“You’re getting soft, doll.”
“It’s an off day,” you grumbled. “You try sparring with a super solider the day after getting back from a month-long mission in Guatemala.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
Bucky turned his back to you as he reached for the water bottle sitting on the edge of the ring. His first mistake. You flipped onto your stomach, crawling along the mat until he stood close enough for you to swing your leg hard against the back of his knees, sending him tumbling to the floor. He let out a grunt at the impact. Hands grappled at his wrists, pushing them out to his sides and against the mat as your left leg swung over his waist to straddle him down.
He pushed up against you, but you dug your right knee into his hip bone and forced his arms back down. Bucky groaned, letting his head fall against the mat as he rolled his eyes.
“Wanna call me soft again, sweetheart?”
A bead of sweat dripped off the end of the baby hairs framing your face and fell against the floor next to Bucky’s head. He didn’t flinch, not even to tug at his wrists you kept bound against the mat. He could have escaped you easier than you’d admit with the strength of the serum running through his veins, but he stayed down. You raised an eyebrow at him, suspicious that he hadn’t tossed you off yet. A grin pulled at his lips, his eyes narrowing as they trailed over your face and down to where you sat against his waist.
“Not sure yet,” he said through a heavy breath. “Kinda like where it got me.”
You laughed, shaking your head as you pushed yourself off of him until you laid comfortably along matt next to him. Bucky adjusted his arms to rest his hands behind his head. The tips of his hair were wet with sweat, patches of his shirt damp from the last hour you’d spent pushing each other in the ring. It was a kind of routine you’d find yourself in at three in the morning. It was the only place Bucky had found peace when he first joined the avengers; told you as much a few months after you first met.
He was always one to keep to himself, that much didn’t surprise you, not with what he had been through. You had been working with the avengers for a few years before Steve brought Bucky onto the team. Most of your time was spent alongside Nat and Clint, being the only avengers without any superhero abilities other than your dashing good looks and assassin primed skill set. The gym was your home in the compound. It was where you spent most of your time. Whether it be training SHEILD recruits, pushing yourself in hand to hand with Nat, or running miles on the treadmill when the nights became too dark, which they often did.
It was also where you forged your friendship with Bucky.
You had caught him beating the life out of the fourth punching bag Tony had replaced in a week at nearly two in the morning. His back was to you, dripping in sweat, as his grunts echoed throughout the room. He had only been living in the compound for a few days, hadn’t so much as said a word to anyone other than Steve.
You had approached him slowly, wondering if he was there for the same reason you were. Who else would decide to work out at this hour unless they had some demons to fight off? It was the first time you ever saw Bucky flinch as you approached him, eyes wide, unsuspecting, as you held your hands up cautiously. You had pressed your lips into a tight smile, nodding towards the treadmill to signal where you’d be and he only nodded once before returning to the punching bag. The dark circles under his eyes didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the sunken, pale look of his skin. He was better at hiding his demons during the day, you thought. He didn’t acknowledge you again until the fifth time you ran into each other in the dead of night.
He didn’t speak to you but he helped correct your form on a move you had been working on endlessly with Nat but couldn’t seem to get right. He gestured the move for you, waiting for you to signal you understood before he went back to the punching bag. You had watched him with careful eyes, studying him more than the combat move he was instructing. Still, you kept your distance. You remembered what Steve had told you about him. You weren’t in the business of pushing people before they were ready. It would be another two weeks before he spoke to you for the first time.
He had called your name as you were on your sixth mile on the treadmill, not having noticed his presence behind you. It had only been half etched smiles or a nod in recognition before that moment. You had raised an eyebrow at him, shocked as how soft his voice sounded in comparison to his hardened exterior. You jumped off the machine, wiping your brow with the edge of your shirt. It was the first time he asked you to spar.
Sooner than you realized, you had become friends. He had learned to tease you when you’d accidentally go for his left arm in hand to hand, momentarily forgetting it was made of solid metal. He’d laugh when you’d pin him to the ground and spray water at you when you’d get a little too cocky about it. You’d spend hours sitting at the edge of the ring, drenched in sweat, talking about the team, how he really should give everyone a chance, how you’d grown to befriend Steve, and how you came to be a part of the team. Bucky would talk about the 40’s and his ma. He told you about his past, the things Steve didn’t dare to share with you and the disdain he carried for the scars along his shoulder. He’d tell you about the nightmares that used to bring him to the gym late at night. He’d tell you that he started to come even when the nightmares were absent because there was just something comforting about this place.
He didn’t tell you it was you.
He learned to find himself again in this gym, sparring with you, talking with you, evading his demons with you. The first day you saw him join the team for movie night, you almost choked on your popcorn. He sat down next to you, mumbled ‘what the hell is a hogwart,’ before he shoved his hand into your bowl of popcorn. When the rest of the team wouldn’t seem to evert their looks of complete shock, Bucky just shrugged and settled in next to you, asking a hundred questions about the movie. Sam had teased him about it, only for you to chuck the empty popcorn bowl across the room at him. Bucky had laughed so hard, he doubled over. Steve sat across the room with a beaming smile.
“You think Steve was right?” Bucky’s voice drew your attention back. You turned on your side to look at him, arm settling under your head to cushion against the hard ground of the ring. You narrowed your eyes quizzically and Bucky shrugged. “He keeps saying I need to get out more.”
You propped yourself up on your elbow. “What has you thinking about that?”
“He wants me to go on an undercover op next week. Requires blending in with the civilians.”
“You did a pretty good job of it in Bucharest,” you pointed out. He shook his head.
“This is different. I wouldn’t be just looking out for myself.” Bucky sighed, rubbing his face free of the sweat. “I’d have a mission again and people to watch out for. I’d had to keep myself in one piece or,”
“You’d have me to answer to,” you said, cutting him off with a lighthearted grin and poking him in his side. That got him smiling again. You plopped yourself back down on the mat, hair brushing up in a halo around your head. Your shoulder touched his and you tried to ignore the jolt of electricity fluttering across your skin.
Bucky chuckled. “Yeah I guess I would. Don’t want to see you mad, that’s for sure.”
“I’d have to beat you up again,” you teased, unable to control the grin on your face as you stared up at the ceiling. It was nearly impossible to suppress the laugh creeping up from your chest. You could tell he was looking at you, narrowing his striking blue eyes.
“Is that what you wanna call-“
A blaring siren cut Bucky off before he could finish. You jolted upright just as the lights went out, replaced by dim red and blue lighting along the outer walls. Bucky was on his feet before you could register what was happening. The siren was so loud; it was piercing. You winced as you felt the resounding horn in the back of your skull.
“FRIDAY!” you shouted, “What the hell is going on?”
“Not sure, Agent (Y/L/n),” the AI responded, her voice more panicked than you’d appreciate for a computer. “I think someone hacked into my system.”
“Is that even possible?” Bucky yelled towards you, hoping you could hear him over the sound of the siren.
“Not supposed to be!” You ran your hands through your hair, eyes scanning over the empty room. You gestured towards the door. “We should find the rest of the team. Make sure everyone’s alright.”
Bucky nodded, jumping over the ropes of the ring. You followed close behind, using the post the propel yourself above the barrier. Feet on the ground, you started jogging towards the exit when suddenly the siren ceased. You both pulled to a stop. A ringing was left in your ears in the siren’s absence. You and Bucky exchanged worried looks.
“I am delighted to see you again, soldat,” the voice said over the speakers in a thick German accent. You could vaguely register the subtle noise of the surveillance camera turning in Bucky’s direction. “I hope you’re still as capable as you once were. I suppose we will find out together.”
Bucky shook his head, his breathing picking up in pace. His right hand was shaking as he brought it to his mouth, rubbing anxiously at his lips.
“Oh God,” Bucky whispered in a shaky exhale. His eyes flickered over to you and the wave of panic across his face was enough to send a burning ache in your stomach.
“Bucky…” you started, though you couldn’t find the strength to finish. You knew about the trigger words, how Shuri had done her best to clear them from his head but she hadn’t quite figured it out just yet. He had been stable enough to return home with Steve, he had made so much progress, she was so close. But it wasn’t enough. She needed a few more months, Bucky would stay at the compound until then. It would be alright, Steve promised. No one knew the words; the book had been destroyed. The fear across Bucky’s face only reflected your own.
“Желание,”
“No,” Bucky groaned, stepping away from you, his hands flying to the sides of his ears as if that could shield him in some way. Finger nails dragging at his hairline.
“Ржавый,”
“This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening,” he mumbled frantically, his eyes squeezing shut. You stood only inches from him, your own hands hovering over his, terrified to actually touch him.
“Семнадцать,”
You reached out as Bucky started muttering to himself in Romanian, whispering frantically under his breath. Then the rise and fall of his chest started to pick up in pace and he squeezed his eyes shut, breaths coming in more labored. It was only then you finally allowed yourself to put your hands against his, begging him to look at you. His eyes shot open, a surge of panic coursing through them, as if he had forgotten you were right next to him, only a breath away from the monster he knew himself to be.
“What are you still doing here!” he yelled, shoving you aside. He pushed you with such force you stumbled back a few paces. He waved towards the door. “Get out of here, Y/n!”
“I’m not going to leave you, Buck!” You shouted back defiantly. You rushed back towards him, placing your hands on the side of his face, thumbs brushing hastily against his flushed cheeks. “I’m not leaving you alone like this. We’ll- we’ll figure something out.”
“Рассвет,”
Bucky winced, “I’ll hurt you.”
“I won’t let you.”
“Печь,”
Bucky let out a shout and collapsed to the ground. You tried to grab him before he did, but he was too heavy. You dropped down by his side, falling hard on your knees, as his hands started grasping at his sweats, desperately trying to find something to ground him.
“Please… go…” he begged, his voice hoarse.
“Девять,”
Bucky screamed again. This one sent waves of panic through your body. It was like he was in agony, in complete and unbearable pain, like he was strapped to that godforsaken chair in this very moment. You reached out to touch him but he swatted your hand away.
“Доброкачественный,”
“I will kill you, Y/n! Don’t you get that!” Bucky shouted, an aching pain lingering over his voice. “They will make me kill you! Please, I can’t… I can’t…”
“Возвращение на родину,”
You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt a tickling on your neck. It was excruciating, the very idea of leaving Bucky to suffer through this alone, to be dragged so far back under the surface he couldn’t breathe. What choice did you have? You were no match for the winter soldier. He had teased you about it in training, but he’d never once come at you with his full strength.
Pleading eyes looked up at you, tears threatening to cloud through the shades of blue. It was the only thing that could crumble your resolve. Fingers gently brushed against Bucky’s jawline, hands resting on his cheeks as you pulled him close, pressing your lips against his forehead. It was an intimate gesture, one you’ve never dared to do before this moment. He sighed against you, his own hands wrapping around your wrists. Hours could have passed by in that moment and still, it was gone too soon.
“It’ll be alright, you hear me?” you whispered against his skin. He nodded but you could feel the hesitation in his movement. “We’ll bring you back, Buck, I promise. We won’t let them hurt you.”
“Один,”
Fighting against every instinct demanding you stay, you took off running towards the doors of the gym. In the distance you could see Steve sprinting towards you, dressed in baggy sweatpants and his sleep shirt, shield in hand. He was shouting at you but you couldn’t quite hear him. You were only feet away from the exit when the doors slammed shut in front of you. Through the small window you could see Steve skidding to a stop on the other side.
“Грузовой вагон,”
You started pounding against the frame, shouting to Steve to open the goddamn doors. Panic started to creep its way through your veins. You hadn’t noticed Bucky had stilled behind you, not with Steve’s muffled shouts through the door, attempting to break through the barrier with his shield. Natasha was just over his shoulder, her gun aimed at the hinges, though both of you knew it would do little against Tony’s lockdown protocols.
“Доброе утро, солдат.” The voice echoing from the speaker chuckled. Nat’s eyes widened, staring off behind your shoulder. You turned around slowly, knowing exactly what you would find waiting for you and yet the shock of seeing him in such a state still sent a wave of pain through your chest.
“Я готов отвечать,” Bucky replied, his voice void of emotion. You didn’t know Russian, but this you recognized. Ready to comply. The man standing in front of you was no longer Bucky Barnes. He was not the man you had spent countless nights sparring with when the nightmares kept you up or the man who didn’t shy away when you found yourselves sitting hip to hip on the couch during movie nights. He was not the man who followed you to your room one night, sheepishly asking if he could stay with you when even the hours in the gym wasn’t enough to stop the terrors behind his eyes. He wasn’t the man you had found yourself falling for.
“Come home, soldat,” the voice purred through the speakers. “Kill anyone who gets in your way.”
Your eyes widened as Bucky took a step towards you. You hadn’t realized you backed up until your back touched the metal doors. Muffled shouting from the other end of the frame was all you could hear as Bucky stared you down, his eyes somehow duller in color, like the vibrancy behind them had been stolen from him. There were more people at the door now. Beams of light shining in through the window was enough to alert you that Tony had arrived. It wouldn’t be long until he could get the door open. You would just have to occupy Bucky in the meantime.
“Wanna spar?” Your voice was stronger than you imagined it would be. If there was a part of you that believed Bucky could hear you, it was naïve, you knew that; but it didn’t stop you from wanting to believe it. A deep breath filled your lungs. Then you charged.
Bucky was always faster than you, his reflexes smoother, more agile. It came with the serum, you supposed. You propelled yourself from the edge of the ring kicking against the post for momentum as you swung a fist at Bucky. There was no time to worry about whether you’d hurt him. He’d be able to hurt you a thousand times worse.
Bucky grunted as you plunged your elbow into his stomach. His hand snaked around your forearm and yanked it high above your head, using the advantage to punch you hard in the chest. The force of it sent you flying back several feet, your body falling hard against the floor, rolling over twice before you came to a stop.
You groaned at the impact. Your body was already sore before the soldier took his first swing at you from your sparring with Bucky. The burning ache in your chest was enough to outweigh the rest of the pain in your body. It was getting harder to breathe. You suspected you were down a rib. You gritted your teeth, closing your hands back into fists as you stood up.
Running towards Bucky, you let out a scream before you climbed up on his shoulders, using his thighs and hips as jump points. Wrapping your thighs tightly around his neck, you channeled Nat as best you could. Bucky started to flail under you, arms reaching up to drag you down. It didn’t take long before you felt the wall slam hard against your back, your head taking a good part of the hit.
Bucky grabbed you by your elbow and yanked you hard to the ground. Another hit to the side of your head. He waited as you scrambled to your feet, dizziness threatening to take you down before he did as you struggled to see straight. You held up your fists, took a swing, but he ducked it easily. He threw a punch square to your jaw, sending you stumbling back. He stalked forward and sent another to your left eye. Then to your stomach. Another to your side.
You were on the floor, blood dripping from your broken lips as you tried to push yourself back up to your feet through shaky arms only to collapse against the floor. The cool surface, a momentary relief. You glanced up at him, panting, struggling to breathe. He stared down at you, emotionless, expressionless, as his hair fell into his eyes. Slowly, metal fingers reached down and grabbed the collar of your shirt.
“B-Bucky…” you gurgled through the blood pooling in your mouth. He dragged you towards the wall where he held you up against it easily. Your eyes widened as the metal digits moved from the fabric of your shirt to the skin of your neck. “S-Stop…”
He didn’t flinch. Cold eyes stared you down as he started to put pressure to your neck. You gasped, hands flying up to his wrist.
“Bucky, p-please.” You could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Your words were barely intelligible to your own ears but the naïve part of you had hoped there was at least a small part of him that could still break free, that you wouldn’t have to die at Bucky’s hand, staring at the dark, twisted version of man you cared so deeply for. He had done it once before.
But you weren’t Steve.
His fingers curled tighter around your neck and you started to claw at his chest, his face, anything to make it stop. Heavy weights on your lungs. Unimaginable pressure in your head. It was worse than any nightmare you had ever woken from screaming your throat raw. Bucky showed no emotion as he drained the life from you. You tried to focus on the shades of blue as the darkness started to surround your vision, tunneling in until it was all that remained.
***
The soft sounds of a steady high-pitched beep rose you from your sleep. You groaned as you came to, dull aches throughout your body making it nearly impossible to move. You licked your lips in an attempt to moisten the dry, broken skin there, but winced as you did so, flinching back at the open wound. Opening your eyes, you were met with a blinding white room. It was a familiar one; one you had spent many nights in after grueling missions.
An empty chair sat to your left. A part of you, one bigger than you cared to admit, had hoped he’d be waiting for you to wake. You found yourself missing the sweet relief across Bucky’s face when he’d see you open your eyes for the first time after a mission sent you to this room. He’d be holding your hand, letting go nervously when you’d finally notice. He’d be here. He was always here. The empty chair was suddenly painful to look at.
Beyond the glass wall to your room you could vaguely make out several figures huddled in a corner. You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to clear up your vision. Steve’s shield draped along his back came into view, along with Natasha’s short, slim frame. They were both covered in purple bruising, a red gash evident across the top of Nat’s head, blood in Steve’s hair. Tony was throwing his arms about, his whole body moving with each word he said. He was angry.
A burning sensation stung in your throat as you swallowed. There was a remote around here somewhere, one that would call for Dr. Cho or someone, anyone, to come tell you what the hell happened. Your heart started to beat frantically the longer it took to find it.
Too many thoughts rushed through your mind at once. Where was Bucky? What happened after you blacked out? Was he still in the compound? Did he escape? God, did Hydra have him again? Where is the goddamn remote!
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes and suddenly it was impossible to breathe. The beeping on the machine was going haywire and you brought your hands to your throat. Your fingers pressed against a soft cushioning encasing your neck. You were suffocating. Ripping the brace away from you, tossing it far across the room did nothing to relieve the rapid breaths and pain filling your chest.
The door to your room swung open and suddenly there were three people surrounding your bed. Natasha was on your left, her hand brushing gently through your hair, whispering words you couldn’t quite make out. Steve was on your right, his hand carefully sneaking into yours as he wrapped both hands around it.
“Breathe, Y/n,” he said softly, giving you his trademark kind, reassuring smile. He nodded as you started to following his breathing the best you could. “Good. You’re doing good, Y/n.”
“B-Bucky?” You choked out. Your voice was nearly gone, broken and raspy as it came out, like it had been carved up and thrown through a blender. You swallowed, wincing at the pain. “W-where’s-“
“It’s okay, Y/n,” Steve cut you off to your relief. “He can’t hurt you.”
You shook your head franticly. You didn’t have the energy to breathe properly, let alone speak. You turned towards Nat, eyes pleading with her. She had known you the longest. Nothing got past her in this compound. She must know about you and Bucky, or at least, whatever you and Bucky were, what you thought – hoped – you were. You could barely define it yourself.
Nat studied you for a moment, eyes narrowing as she tilted her head in thought. She turned to Steve. “That’s not what she meant.”
Steve raised an eyebrow.
Nat sighed, her hand not leaving the crown of your hair for even a beat. Her nails ran gently along your hairline, lulling you back to ease. “She’s asking if he’s okay. She wants to know what happened.”
Steve nodded. “Right, ‘course. Buck’s fine,” Steve paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Well, as fine as you’d expect.” A nervous sigh. Then, “You gave us a scare there, Y/n/n. We were able to get through the door pretty soon after you blacked out, but it was close. Took us longer than I’d care to admit before we could knock Bucky out. Thankfully, once he came to, he was himself again. He took one look at you and headed straight to the safe room. He hasn’t come out since.”
“Cho gave him the all clear a few hours ago,” Nat added. “Tony’s been working with a team to track down whoever hacked into FRIDAY’s system. He’s already put in new protections to make sure it can’t happen again.”
You narrowed your eyes, confusion evident on your face. Why was Bucky still in the safe room if he was cleared?
Nat nodded, understanding you as she always did. “He almost killed you, Y/n. If there’s even a chance it can happen again, he’s going to keep himself locked in that room indefinitely. Bucky… He cares about you. I don’t think any of us will be able to convince him to leave that room.” She nodded towards Steve and Tony, who you now noticed was standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, observing. A scowl present upon his features.
“She’s saying you’re all that’s gonna convince him he’s not a blood thirsty killing machine,” Tony quipped. He pushed himself off the wall and started to pace around the room. Steve sent him a warning glare, which Tony brushed off with a scoff. “Look, we all know I hold no favor for Barnes and I don’t disagree with how he sees himself, but I know for a fact that’s not how you see him. Besides, that safe room is for emergencies, not a makeshift prison. If he wants to lock himself up, I’ll call the secretary and we’ll revoke his pardon.”
“Tony,” Steve warned again. Tony rolled his eyes.
“You get what I’m saying,” Tony said as he leaned against the edge of the bed. “You focus on getting better. Don’t worry about Barnes. He’s not going anywhere. When you’re ready, just know you’re gonna be met with a brick wall of self-hatred and man pain. That is, if you do wanna see him again after what he just did to you.”
“Jesus, Tony, she gets it,” Steve grumbled.
You nodded, knowing you’d be back at square one with Bucky after what happened. He’d be back to his old self; distant, withholding, untrusting. But you were patient. You’d wait for him.
***
Nearly a week later, your voice came back to you. Dr. Cho still kept you held up in the med bay to monitor the bruising on your throat and to check the damage to your windpipes. It hadn’t been as severe as they originally thought. Turns out it was mostly swelling and once it went down, breathing got a whole lot easier.
You stood at the edge of your bed, pulling a SHEILD crewneck over your head as gently as you could. It still hurt to lift your arms above your head, but if you spent one more minute in that damn hospital gown you were going to lose it. You sighed of relief as you bunched the fabric along your waist. A knock at the door caught your attention and you turned to find Steve standing in its frame.
“Heard you were being discharged,” he said. Though he wore a sheepish smile, there was a lingering concern behind his eyes.
“You wanna know if I’m going to see Bucky.” Your voice was still pretty raspy, but it sounded more like you. Almost as if you had just gotten over a bad cold. Almost.
Steve let out a nervous laugh, but he nodded. “Didn’t know if you wanted company.”
You smiled, crossing the room until you stood next to Steve. You placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be okay, Steve. He won’t hurt me.”
“You seem pretty sure of that,” he said softly. It wasn’t accusatory. If anything, it was statement of relief, like he had been worried you would blame Bucky for what happened. That you would walk away and take with you any semblance of a normal life Bucky had started to know.
“I am,” you replied sincerely. “I know that if he was given the choice, if he had any control, he never would have hurt me, or you, or Nat, or any of us. Just gotta try to convince him of that, right?”
“Right.” Steve nodded. The smile he wore was still a little broken behind the eyes. You squeezed his shoulder and headed towards the elevator.
It was darker on the saferoom floor than you expected. Brick walls lined a single hallway, illuminated only by a string of floor lights. For claiming it wasn’t meant to be a prison, Tony sure was stingy on the lighting, you thought as you made your way down the long corridor.
At the end of the hallway was a massive metal door, bolts surrounding the frame and gears locking it into place. A touch pad was encased in the wall next to it. You tapped on the screen. An image of Bucky came into view. He was sitting at the far corner of the room on the floor, knees to his chest, hands wrapped up in his hair. He was so incredibly still.
“FRIDAY?” you called.
“Yes, Agent Y/l/n?” the comforting voice of the AI replied.
“Can he hear me in there?”
A soft beep rung out and a blinking red light appeared at the corner of the screen. You swallowed.
“Bucky?”
Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes darting towards the door. You watched him on the surveillance camera as he shook his head, closing his eyes and put his head back to his knees.
“Bucky, please. Open the door,” you asked gingerly, your hand setting on the cool metal of the door frame, as if touching it would somehow bring him peace. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he mumbled. It was soft, under his breath, but FRIDAY picked it up for you.
“I talked to Tony. I could have FRIDAY override the system, but I,” you paused, taking in a breath to calm your nerves. “I was hoping you’d let me in.”
You watched the screen as Bucky’s head lifted again. From this angle, it was hard to get a good look as his face, but his shoulders slumped. Slowly he stood to his feet, using the wall to help himself along. He took slow, steady steps towards the door until he froze.
“Why did you come here?” You could hear Bucky’s voice through the door, not needing the AI to amplify it for you. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears. “After what I did…”
“Bucky open the door,” you asked again more urgently, feeling the lump burn in the back of your throat. You needed to see him. Tears were prickling in your eyes as you glanced over at the screen. Bucky’s finger was hovering over the green button, but his hand was shaking. After several agonizing minutes, he finally pressed it.
A loud clicking sound echoed through the hallway until a final latch unlocked and the door popped open just wide enough to let a stream of light through. You wrapped your fingers around the edge and pulled it open.
A gasp caught in your lungs as you laid eyes on Bucky. You weren’t able to see it on the screen but he wore a massive cut along his cheek bone, one he probably endured while Steve and the team tried to take down the soldier. It had barely healed, which meant he was refusing treatment from Dr. Cho. The dark circles under his eyes were enough to tell you he had barely been sleeping.
His eyes were focused beneath your own. You wondered for a moment what he was staring at until you remembered the distinct bruising marks on your neck, ones you should have thought to cover up before coming to see him.
“Oh, God,” he whispered, unable to tear his eyes away. A subtle glassiness started to shine over the blue in his eyes. He clenched his jaw, dropping his head. “You shouldn’t be here, Y/n/n.”
“Stop that,” you said, taking a step towards him, knowing he’d only back away. It got you further into the room instead of standing at the door frame at least. “I’m fine, Buck. I’m healing.”
Bucky shook his head as he sat down at the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair. A nervous habit of his you had grown to recognize.
“I am. I’ve been waiting to get the clear from Cho to come see what the hell you’ve been doing down here for the past week,” you said lightly as you sat down next to him, hoping to get some kind of reaction. You didn’t expect him to turn back towards you with a glare
“How could you even stand to be in here?” Bucky snapped, his voice laced with venom as he stood up. He started pacing back and forth, tucking one hand into his pocket and clenching the other into a fist to stop the shaking. “How can you even bare to be in the same room as me after what I did to you? Are you that naïve? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?”
“Bucky,” you warned as he started chuckling to himself. It was humorless, his dark expression sending a wave of unease in your stomach. Not because you were afraid of him, but because it sat in such contrast to the man you knew.
“I almost killed you, Y/n! Don’t you get that!” Bucky shouted as he threw his metal fist against the wall. You flinched at the sound as Bucky pulled his hand from the crumbling hole. Small pieces of brick fell onto the ground. “You were within inches of your life and if Stark hadn’t broken down the door when he did, I would have succeeded! And- and you don’t even seem to care!”
“I care a lot, actually. I very much prefer being alive,” you replied sternly, folding your arms over your chest.
“Then what the hell are you doing here!” Bucky exclaimed. “Being around me is a death sentence!”
“You know why I’m here, Barnes,” you said slowly, your voice as steady as you could manage it. Bucky stared at you, waiting for you to back down, for you to turn away, or take it back, but you didn’t budge. He knew exactly what you meant. It was the reason why you had fallen into place so easily together, the reason why it was so easy just being around one another, the reason why he was the first person you sought out when you were met with your demons in your sleep.
The reason why he never once turned you away.
Bucky closed his eyes, his body slowly letting go of the tension he carried. He shook his head, clenching his jaw.
“I’m a monster, Y/n/n. You can’t want that.”
“Good thing you’re not a monster then,” you said gently. You stood, slowly moving across the room until you were right in front of him. His eyes were trained on the floor, his hair falling into his face. You moved your hand forward incredibly slow, enough that he would see it coming and he could back away if he needed to. When he didn’t, you let your fingers brush against his, tapping against them until he opened the palm of his flesh hand to you, allowing you to intertwine your fingers.
“You are a good man, James Barnes,” you said. You used your free hand to brush away the hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. “You did everything you could to keep me from getting hurt. You begged me to leave when I had the chance. I know the last thing you wanted was to hurt anyone. I know that.”
Bucky nodded, his eyes slowly moving up to meet yours, though he froze on the bruising along your neck. Instinctively his metal hand reached up to touch it, but he pulled back the second he realized what he was doing.
“Buck, it’s okay,” you whispered, giving him a slight nod.
Bucky licked his lips nervously. His hand moved at agonizing pace until he let it sat against your collarbone. He swallowed, his eyes darting up to yours as if he was seeking permission. You smiled encouragingly and nodded. He bit on his lower lip as his fingertips brushed against the bruising; dark purple and blue in the shape of his own hand.
“Does it hurt?”
You shook your head. Bucky let his hand fall back to his side. When he started staring at the floor again, you squeezed his hand, hoping to bring him back.
“Bucky, I-“
“I can’t ever lose you,” he said suddenly. “You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course, Buck,” you replied gently.
He nodded nervously. You could feel him squeezing and releasing your hand repeatedly, like it was a calming mechanism for him. He lifted his head, bringing himself to meet your eyes. You swore every ounce of pain you had in your body left the moment you found vibrant shades of blue staring back at you.
“When I saw what I did to you… I thought that I…” Bucky pressed his lips together, unable to finish the thought. He sighed, trying to pull himself back together. “I don’t have a lot of good in my life. I haven’t in a long time. But then Stevie found me and he convinced me to come with him and join this ridiculous group of people and… and then I met you.”
You felt your heart skip a beat as Bucky gently set his hand against your cheek, the cool metal sitting in contrast to the warmth of your skin.
“You are what’s good in my life, doll,” Bucky said, his voice just above a whisper, like the words had fallen in a gentle exhale, like it was relief just saying the words aloud. “I can’t ever lose you. Not like that. Not by my own hand.”
“I know,” you sighed, your hand reaching up to hold his wrist as his thumb brushed against your cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You made that pretty clear,” Bucky said with a soft chuckle. You had almost forgotten how sweet he sounded as he laughed. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop being surprised at that.”
“You find it so hard to believe I want to be around you?” you asked, a smirk behind your lips.
“I find it hard to believe you want someone as damaged as me, doll.” His voice was soft, teasing, with a half-etched smile but it fell away quickly. He swallowed.
There was something so incredibly comforting about standing this close to Bucky, hands intertwined, the brush of his cool metal fingers against your flushed cheeks. He brought you the kind of relief you had never been able to find at the bottom of a bottle or at the end of your fist. This man, who thought so little of himself, was more to you than you’d ever be able to admit aloud. The way he was touching you, comforting you, in the silence of the saferoom was the most intimate contact you’d allowed for yourself in years. There had been men, but none like Bucky, none that you’d let stand this close and watch you through kind, nervous eyes.
“I’ll always want you, Buck.”
It was the easiest thing you’d ever said.
Bucky exhaled, like he had been holding his breath for days. A sad smile urged to lift the corners of his lips though it didn’t quite make it. It’d take longer than a few stolen moments in the privacy of this saferoom to convince him he deserved what you longed to give him. His hand snaked around to the back of your neck, pulling you closer towards him until his lips sat against your forehead. He didn’t let go, not for a while.
For now, it was enough.