We Get One Shot At This

I Know a Guy

You couldn't breathe. You felt a crushing pressure around your throat and the air being squeezed from your chest. You were in the realm of dreams and didn't immediately recognize if this was real or your subconscious playing a cruel trick. You felt the cold sting of metal against your neck and were quickly jolted back into reality.

"Bucky..." you gasped, "Buck...stop..." You thrust your elbow firmly into his face, hoping to wake him from his dream that had now become your own nightmare. His grip tightened for just a second, then released as he woke, panting and looking at you with eyes filled with terror at what he had just done.

"No! (Y/N), are you okay?" He sat up and frantically looked at you for any sign that he may have injured you. A few bruises began to darken on your neck, and he touched them gently with his still-human hand. "Oh, (Y/N), I'm sorry. I can't...oh, look at what I did to you."

You shook your head and grabbed his hand to push it away. "It's okay. I'm fine."

"This is no way to live, (Y/N)," Bucky whispered, covered in sweat and shaking violently. "I would have rather let Steve kill me than to go on like this. I'm a danger to you."

"Buck-"

"No! Don't tell me that this is going to get better!" He threw the blankets off and sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, still shaking. As you watched him you couldn't tell if the shaking was from his dream or if he had begun to cry. You wanted to touch him, to console him, but you didn't think he would accept you right now. "And please don't tell me that you and Steve could possibly understand what I'm going through. You got your memory back, (Y/N). You know who you are and who you were."

The words stung your heart and ached in your chest. Your breathing began to catch and shake, but you fought to maintain your composure. "I also know who you were," you whispered. You sat up and took the same position as he had, each of you on opposite sides of the bed, neither of you attempting to look at the other.

It had been weeks since the day you had met with Steve, and Bucky hadn't made any progress with his memory. Despite your continued support and reassurances that you would be at his side, Bucky was getting more and more frustrated as each day passed and it was beginning to take its toll on you both. If being with you and talking to his best friend hadn't released memories within him, then what in the world could be left that would do it? It was starting to feel hopeless that you would ever see your Bucky again.

"Don't ever say that you'd rather be dead around me." You stood and walked to the door, still refusing to look towards him, "I've lost you enough for one lifetime, Buck. I won't do it again. I can't." You could feel his eyes on you as you left the room; you heard him stand to move towards you, but you were gone before he could get there.

~~~

Steve opened his door to greet you, his hair messy and his eyes heavy with sleep, but perking up a bit when he saw you. "Hey, (Y/N). Come on in." He raised his arm so that you could pass under, but instead you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your head in his chest, your tears finally winning the battle you had fought so valiantly to hold them back.

"Hey...hey, what's going on?" His arms tightened around you, but when you felt them it only made you cry harder and feel even more helpless than you had before. "(Y/N), come on, tell me what happened." When you still didn't answer, he pulled you inside and closed the door behind you, leading you over to the couch to sit with him. "Where is he?"

You tried to catch your breath and sat up away from him, wiping the tears from your eyes. Despite your best efforts to control them, they continued and your voice cracked under their power over you. "Home," you whispered, "I'm sorry, Steve, I just couldn't stay there and I didn't know where else to go."