We Get One Shot At This

I Can Get By On My Own

Helpful tip: Memories are written in italics.

You looked down at your scraped knee, dirt and blood mixing together in a stinging pain that brought tears to your eyes. If you got blood on your dress, your mother was sure to paddle your behind when you got home.

"Stop being so mean!" You hollered at the bully who pushed you to the ground, when all you wanted was to walk home without a day of dealing with him. At the age of six, you had already dealt with this more than any grown-up you knew. "Why do you always pick on me?"

"Cuz it's easy!" The boy stepped forward and pulled your hair, making you yell out and cry even harder. "And I know you don't have a daddy to come save you, so there's no one to fight back!"

You could feel your hands start to shake and your chest shuddered with each breath as you tried to stop the tears, but to no success. You were about to try to stand and run when you heard a thud as the boy landed on the ground next to you.

"Hey, are you okay?"

When you looked up there was a boy, about your same age, with big eyes and brown hair, reaching down to help you stand. Another scrawny blonde boy stood next to him, his fists clenched and raised in front of him, watching the bully to be sure he didn't get up again.

"I'm okay," you said through sniffles with a shaky voice. "I'm used to it."

"That's not right. No one should treat a girl like that. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again, okay? What's your name?"

"(Y/N)," you said as you stood next to him, straightening out your dirty skirt and doing your best to shake the dirt away.

"I'm James, but my friends call me Bucky. So I think that's what you should call me, too." His smile was wide and bright, and it made his eyes sparkle. "This skinny punk over here is Steve."

"Hi," the blonde boy said shyly, his hand coming up in a half-hearted wave, still watching the bully for signs of movement. "Hey, Buck, we should probably take a hike before he wakes up, yeah?"

Bucky grabbed your hand and began to walk away from the scene, with Steve repeatedly glancing over his shoulder, on the lookout for the bully to wake and try to chase you. "Come on, we're gonna walk you home."

You pulled your hand away, hesitantly, knowing your mother wouldn't like you walking home with boys. "I can make it on my own, thanks."

"The thing is, you don't have to."

---

"If you resist the procedure, it will only make it harder, (Y/N), and resisting is pointless."

"My memories...are all I have left...of him," you panted, "you can't...take them."

The scientist walked slowly and menacingly around the gurney that held you, strapped tightly so that you couldn't attempt an escape. When you looked at his face, you swore his eyes were black; he was emotionless and cold.

"I can see that this will be much more difficult than we had planned." He nodded to his counterpart, and within seconds the searing pain in your head began again.

~~~

Bucky's laughter echoed out into the night sky from atop the ferris wheel, his big idea for a first date at Coney Island. He knew that heights didn't sit well with you, but made no attempt to hide his reaction when the ride jerked to a stop with the two of you at the highest point. You turned quickly to him and curled into his chest, clinging to his shirt as if your life depended on it, and he immediately wrapped his arms around you, though still laughing.