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He remembers your soft laugh, how your giggles filled his hollow chest, melting away all the coldness and bitterness inside. Bucky found himself thinking about you more than he should, after all, he was
the
Winter Soldier, he couldn’t give you what you needed. He was the broken hollow shell of the man he used to be, the man you could have loved.
But he couldn’t be more wrong, because deep down, you loved him as well. Bucky carried his sleep deprived body through empty silent halls every night, the memories of a forgotten past resurfacing when he least expected them too. Sometimes he dreamt about his family, his home in Brooklyn. Memories of a blond scrawny kid laughing, the cushings of the couch on the floor, both of them laughing innocently at something he could not longer remember. Some nights the memories were of war, of his fellow comrades, the Howling Commandos. But most nights he woke up screaming in terror after remembering what HYDRA had done to him, what he had done to humanity for over 50 years. Bucky had awful nights, but he held onto the memories he had of you, all the moments you two shared. He sometimes woke up because he felt your hand holding his, caressing his palm with your fingers, drawing patterns that you knew relaxed him.
Some nights, you found yourself crawling to Bucky’s bed silently, the solitude of your room being too hard to bare. He pretended not to notice that you always drew patterns on his back with your fingertips to soothe you, the warmness of his skin putting you back to sleep. He hated the fact that he needed you to sleep soundly, he needed you close to keep his sanity, to recover his own self again.
The days were better, he was usually sarcastic and funny, always having new witty answers for Sam and Nat, he was himself around Steve and you, he felt like he belonged.
But then the memories flooded his mind, the blood, screams, fire and gunshots he could never shake off him. They were part of who he was and the reason he could never tell you how much he loved you.
Bucky was so in love with you it even hurt to look at you, but he thought that you could never love the Soviet assassin he still was. After spending plenty of sleepless nights, Bucky realized that he had to push you away, he had to for his own sanity. He couldn’t deal with the fact that he had fallen in love with you, the only feeling he couldn’t control, he could not keep at bay. He started slowly, almost unnoticeable to you. He stopped glancing at you from across the room, he stopped himself from daydreaming about your soothing hands on his scarred skin keeping his mind occupied with mission reports, he even started flinching when you brushed your fingers against his. The first time he did that, he saw the deep pain in your eyes, the fear and rejection clouding your watery eyes.
This emotional denial went on for weeks and once Bucky knew he could control himself, he started avoiding you physically. He, of course, knew you too well to know you wouldn’t notice something was up, so he just avoided the places he knew you’d be but still hung out with the rest of the team. Everything was just a sad casualty to you, but for him, it was a very detailed plan he couldn’t fail to follow. He couldn’t fail his mission. Months went by and without noticing, there was an abyss between Bucky and you. When you were at home, he was out on a mission and when he came back, you had to go. Fate was being cruel with you, there was no other logical explanation as why you missed your best friend so much even though you lived three doors apart.
You sighed heavily, pushing your tired and injured body towards your room. It was around 3 AM so the hallway was deadly silent, the only thing that could be heard were your heavy footsteps and your ragged breathing. That’s when you heard it, an anguished cry coming from his room, the deep pain he was feeling froze your heart, the coldness spreading all over your chest. Your legs moved instantly towards his room, all rational thinking thrown aside. You held the doorknob and tried to open it, but it was locked from inside. Something was wrong, why would Bucky lock his door? He was still screaming inside, and since you couldn’t open the door, you called out his name, not caring about the rest of residents at that moment. You cried banging at the door, begging for him to open it so you could help him, but the door stayed closed, the screaming fading into what you understood as sobs. You pressed your forehead against the cool surface, hot tears streaming down your face, the ache in your heart growing stronger every time he let out a loud sob. You pressed your cold hand against his door and whispered “please”, knowing it was just heard by yourself. Bucky stood up and approached the door silently, his heart heavy due to the deep sorrow the nightmare gave him. He pressed his forehead to the door, his flesh hand moving towards a spot in the door, not knowing yours was just there, separated by the wooden door. His nightmares had worsened since he started avoiding you, vivid dreams on how the Winter Soldier killed you, how
he
killed you. Bucky knew you were still in front of his door, waiting for him to open the door and let you in again, but he couldn’t. You sighed heavily, the pain still fresh on your aching heart, you dropped your hand to your side and took a step back, you had to stop doing this to yourself.
You couldn’t go to the next mission assigned because your body was pushed against its limits on the last one, so Fury told you to stand back and rest. Bucky didn’t know this, so he thought you were out on a mission and one morning, he entered the kitchen and found you there, sipping on your coffee looking like a mess. His heart wrenched at the sight of you, your arms and legs covered in bruises, a deep cut on your lip and your left cheek. You turned around when you felt someone looking at you, your eyes widening when you saw him. He could notice you were fighting back tears and he was sure that if he stayed a minute longer, he would break down right there in front of you.
“Hey, Buck I…” Your voice cracked, your emotions betraying you. You cursed yourself and gulped, trying to contain the pain. Bucky stared at you and shook his head, dismissing your words completely. He turned around and left the room, but before he crossed the door he could hear a soft “wait” coming from your trembling lips. He wiped his tears violently and went to the gym, he needed to let go of his anger towards himself. He couldn’t even ask you why you were so beaten up, who had done that to you, who he had to murder.
He picked up one punching bag after another, sand scattered all over the floor.
“Get your shit together, Barnes” He snarled under his breath, punching relentlessly. “You don’t deserve her.” Punch. Punch. Another punch bag broken, his flesh hand bleeding. He picked another one, placed it in its place, and started all over again.
“You fucking murderer, you really thought you could have a future.” The tears were blurring his vision, anger and pain filling up his mind. That was the 7
th
punch bag he broke in the hour he’d been on the training room, knuckles raw and bleeding. You were everything he could think of, how he could’ve avoided you that pain in your last mission. He could’ve ended their misery lives without batting an eye just because they dared to touch you, to harm you with their filthy hands. But, what was the difference between them and him? He growled in anger and turned to leave, but his body stiffened when he saw you staring at him, fear in your eyes. You approached him and stood in front of him, but he stepped aside and marched towards the exit.
“James, I swear if you reach that door, it will be forever.” Your voice was full of anger towards him, surprising the both of you. He turned to look at you, and the look he saw in your face sent a chill down his spine. You looked terrifying. You were wearing your tactical gear but no weapons in sight, the boots giving you more height and presence. Bucky felt small under your gaze, uncertain of what was going on through your mind.
He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off, tired and angry.
“Shut the fuck, I will do the talking now. You missed the opportunity to explain yourself.” He had never seen you like this, you looked at him in a different way and now he could see why everyone said you had an unbearable cruel gaze in missions. You approached him until you were just a step away from him.
“How dare you push me out like this? How dare you.” You growled, pressing your finger to his chest angrily.
“How dare you abandon me when you needed me the most?” He stared at you in shock, his expression falling with every word you let out.
“You think I didn’t hear you every fucking night? You think I didn’t suffer with you?” You pressed both of your hands to his chest, curling them into fists, the soft material of his shirt and the heaving of his chest soothing you, the anger slowly dissipating and turning into sorrow. Your grip loosened but you kept your palms pressed against him.
“Why, Bucky?” You looked at his ocean eyes filled with tears, threatening to fall, probably mirroring your own. He moved his hands slowly and grabbed your wrists softly.
“You don’t deserve this.” His voice trembled, it was full of regret, sorrow, fear. You frowned and nodded, not truly understanding what he meant, You went to move your hands to back away but he tightened his grip a bit to make you see he didn’t want you to move. “You don’t deserve to suffer with me, you don’t deserve the heavy burden I carry.”
“What?” Your eyes widened and you felt his grip loosen so you moved a hand to your own chest, clutching it tight, trying to make his words sink in even deeper. Before you could say or do anything else, he let go of your hands and stepped back.
“Can’t you see that
I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck
?” Realization hit you like a truck, because his words meant something more strong than love. After all he had suffered, all the physical and emotional pain he’d been through, he still trusted you not to hurt him, he still loved you that deeply. Because that statement, that single statement, meant he loved you as well.
“Buck…” He looked at you, his gaze full of love and adoration, and you knew that whatever you said now, would never make justice to what you felt. “If I could rip my heart out and give it to you as a proof of my love, I would.”
He approached you and cupped your face with his metal arm, the coldness contrasting with the warm gesture. You leaned into his touch and looked at him lovingly. He whispered “say it” softly and before you could finish saying the three words, his lips were on yours. With that kiss, you both tried to pour all your love and affection, all the agony and misery forgotten and forgiven. Bucky was worth of your heart and soul and you were worth of his.