My Name Is Bucky

четырнадцатый (14)

I watched as Steve tightly strapped the next piece of gear onto his body. No matter how hard I stared at him or how hard I was listening, no words were connecting to my brain.

Short, snippy phrases kept repeating in my mind. We can push the cushions together. Yknow, like back when we were kids. I flinched. Hey, Stevie, one nickel says I can impress that redhead. I grasped my hair. Bucky, I'm scared. I gasped for air. The water was too thick and I can't swim. Let me out. Let me breathe.

Steve was staring at me. The concern on his face wasn't masked at all, not even through that dumb covering he wore on his face.

"You know I hate that thing," I crumbled through the pain.

He grabbed my shoulder gently. "Buck, Tony and I were talking and-"

"You think you can fix me?" I stared at his eyes. His blue eyes that saw so much good in me. His blue eyes that believed I wasn't a monster. "You know what I did..." the room went silent for a bit. Then my head was filled with Steve's screams.

I jumped. "Stop it. Steve, make it stop!" I stared at hi wildly. I don't even know if he knew. I grabbed onto him, gripping his arms tightly. I think I cut off his circulation.

"Why are you screaming?" I asked. Sometimes it helps to give context. "I'm walking down the road. I hear a scream. It's yours. I know it's yours."

Steve hugged me. "I used to pick fights with people much bigger than me. Luckily, you were bigger than them. You saved me, buck."

I pulled away and stared at him. "Thank you," I muttered and sat down, wishing the sentences wouldn't start again.

Steve gently placed down a vest next to me. I stared at it. It resembled the one I had to wear on all my missions except this one let me move. I was restricted in my HYDRA gear. They wanted me to know that I was a caged animal. I was only a weapon.

I hooked a gun holster to my belt and tightened it before closing several different arms as well as a knife or two. Mission day. My mind raced from the train to the mission where I killed the old couple to the mission where I watched a little girl die and did nothing. I couldn't take it anymore.

I abruptly stood up and walked out of Steve's room. He was surely to follow me because he always did. I walked down the stairs and into the main room of the avengers compound or whatever the hell this was called.

Why are you stressed
Because I don't know who I am or what I am

You're pathetic
Thanks. I'll keep it in mind

I growled to myself and kept on moving until the doors swung open for me and I walked outside. Shooting range? Maybe. Picnic area? Definitely not? Punching bag? Now this I can get behind.

I shoved the gate open and didn't even bother with wrapping my hands because 1) one is made of metal and 2) pain is temporary. I grabbed a bag and swung it over the hook, tightening it and ignoring Steve as he jogged out of the house after me.

My fists became a whirlwind of movement and I hit up and down, left and right, and diagonal on the bag. My anger flowed into motion as I got all of my feelings and fears out on the table.

I won't ever remember
Punch

Steve is misplacing his trust
Punch. Punch.

HYDRA is going to get you back
Punch. Punch. Punch.

You're going to become a puppet and they are going to kill everything you've worked for here.
Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.

I felt something trickle into my foot. Sand. The bag swung back and forth as it left a trail of sand and dirt where it went. I watched it slowly fall, letting my thoughts sink into my brain.