Please don't blame me.

Part 27 - All Or Nothing.

Me and Sam are now sat in the living room with everyone else. We explained what happened with Bucky. There were a few different reactions, some happy, some confused. Most were hopeful. I seemed to react the least, which is ironic really since I wanted this more than anyone. Where all just sat in our own small conversations, trying to hide the fact that we're all just waiting. Waiting for him to find himself.

"Hey y/n," I hear Steve say amongst the hushed voices filling the room. Why everyone was talking so quietly to each other, I have no idea. I meet Steve's eyes and he furrows his eyebrows slightly as he looks back at me. "Are you okay? This is a good thing, you know."
He tells me, his eyes searing mine as if he's trying to gauge my reaction.

Some of the conversations stop, I feel some people in the room turn to look between me and Steve. I nod as I continue looking at him, ignoring the gazes from others. "I know," I tell him my eyes staring back at his, not giving him so much of a hint as to what I'm thinking.

"If you know then why don't you seem... happy?" He asks, hesitating on the word 'happy', as if he didn't want to be so blunt. Oh Captain, ever the thoughtful one. "I have my reasons, Captain. And no, I won't share." I tell him simply. He seems to get the hint as he just nods and drags his gaze off me, engaging in small talk with Nat who's sat next to him.

It's true, though, I do have my reasons. The main one? Guilt. I feel guilty knowing he's started to remember. I mean I have those same memories and of us. I know how painful they are, having to relive them? Remember them like they were yesterday? That's gotta hurt.

I mean if he remembers one thing, then he's going to remember everything. Maybe, just maybe, he'll forget all the bad parts. All the horrible, unthinkable bits that he shouldn't have to remember, that he shouldn't have to relive. I mentally scoff at myself. Who am I kidding? We're not that lucky. None of us are. If he remembers one thing, he'll remember everything.

All or nothing.

Me and Sam end up in some stupid conversation about coffee. I don't even know but he's taking this way to seriously. I'm having to bite my lip to keep myself from bursting out laughing. Sometimes, especially in moments like this, I'd swear up and down that he's gay.

Everyone's conversations are cut short as Bucky abruptly makes his way into the room. All of us turn to look at him, practically holding our breath as we wait for him to say something. He stands there, his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he connects his eyes to mine.

"Did we... did we kill a guys together?" He asks, tilting his head slightly. He looks genuinely confused, it's clear all the pieces of his memory aren't quite in the right places yet. But he'll get there. He then turns and leaves, he doesn't even wait for an answer. We all turns to look at each other. "Well, did you?" Nat asks with a raised eyebrow. "I mean.. yeah. A few, actually." I reply with a small shrug. We shake off the weirdness and go back to talking.

It's not even ten minutes later before he's stood there again. Our attention on him as he speaks. "How the hell did you sneak booze into that cell?" Once again he turns and leaves the room without even waiting for an answer to his question.

"You snook booze into your cell?" Wanda asks with a small smirk. "What? We got bored, had to do something. Besides, it was easy." I say shrugging slightly as I smirk back.

I lose track of him coming in and out. He looks like an absolute fucking idiot. He's like a toddler, coming into the room, blurting out the most random questions and then leaving without any answers. He was clearly fighting for control over his memories.

"French?" He shakes his head slightly. "Nah, French doesn't suit you." - I had to explain to the rest of the avengers that I could speak French. Apparently, so I'm finding out, he doesn't like French.

"We did that? Right there? On the cell floor?!" - Each time he leaves without an answer, without another damn word. I didn't explain this one to the others, figuring they got the idea. I just give them a small, awkward smile.

"Bitch. Your scary." - We all just burst out laughing the second he left shaking his head, looking mind blown.

He doesn't come in again after that. Not for a long while. We all debate between us weather we should go and check on him. Ultimately we decide it's best to leave him alone. We know he needs time to process all these memories he's getting back, all the new emotions he's experiencing as his memories come flooding back. I wish I was there with him, there to help him. Answer his questions, hold his hand. But I also know that if he wanted me there, he would have asked.

We all end up away from our own individual conversations and knee deep in a big heated debate between us all. It's the most stupid thing ever, and yet it brings me a sense of peace. We're debating what type of horror film is scarier. Gore or jump scares. Like I said, stupid. But it's funny, watching everyone get so riled up over something so small it makes all the big scary things in reality just... disappear.

Even for only a moment.

Everyone falls silent and Bucky walks into the room once again. This time, though, he doesn't say anything. We all look confused as he walks in, he's freakishly quiet which just confused the hell out of us.

He doesn't stop when he walks in he keeps walking, over to... me? "Bucky.." Steve says, there's a hint of warning in his tone. As if he's scared Buckys going to do something unpredictable. Which, to be fair, is a valid concern but I'll trust him, even if he doesn't know me.

He gets over to me and pulls my into an, apparently, much needed hug, by arms instinctively wrapping around him. He buries his face in my neck and hair, holding me tightly for a minute. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, the sound barely audible since it's muffled by my hair. "It's okay," I tell him, holding him back tightly. Giving him the comfort he clearly needs. After a minute he pulls back and looks at me. His hands cupping my face as he rests his forehead against mine.

"I love you, doll."

"I love you, Солдат."