Bucky Barnes One-Shots

Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes

a/n:
Since it's Bucky's birthday today (March 10th), here's a little something to celebrate. Happy 99th birthday, Bucky!

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Drenched in sweat and panting, Bucky delivered punch after punch to a dummy in the Avengers Tower training room. He'd been at it since early morning, last night having been a bad one. They'd just returned from a week-long mission yesterday, and though he was exhausted, when Bucky tried to sleep, sharp, detailed nightmares plagued his mind. After vivid images of his experience at HYDRA drove out any part of him that wanted to rest and replaced it with burning hatred for those who had tortured him and turned him into a monster, he took to training to let off some steam.

The dummy was beginning to look deformed despite the resilient exterior and Bucky's lungs burned. He knew he needed to stop, but he couldn't. To stop was to surrender.

The knuckles on his flesh hand bled and bruised, his legs weak from how many kicks he'd delivered. Tears began running down his face, mixing with the sheen of sweat. With a cry of rage, he gave one final kick to the dummy, causing the metal frame to bend backwards. That was something not even Steve had managed to do.

He collapsed on the mat, heavy breaths interrupted by sobs.

"I'm sorry," he choked quietly. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He repeated the words over and over, each time for something different.

"I'm sorry," I wasn't strong enough.

"I'm sorry," I let them break me.

"I'm sorry," for everything the Soldier did.

He sat there on his knees, body shaking and tears flowing freely, for what felt like hours. Judging by the way his knees ached when he could finally breathe right, it had to have been at least one.

"Sergeant Barnes, it appears Captain Rogers is awake. Shall I inform him you are in distress?" JARVIS asked quietly from above. After multiple events where Steve had found Bucky broken and upset, the AI had taken it upon himself to ask if Bucky needs help.

"No," Bucky replied, lifting his head and sniffling. "No, don't tell him about this."

Even JARVIS sounded reluctant when he replied, "As you wish, Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky ran his flesh hand over his face, finding it to be a bad idea as soon as he moved his fingers. He grunted in pain and pulled it back, examining them. They were swollen and bruised, blood soaking the tape around them. He knew they were broken, but also knew that with the super soldier serum running through his veins it wouldn't take long to heal. After all, he'd had worse happen to him the past week. He gently cradled it palm up in his other hand, the cold metal taking some of the throbbing pain away.

He carefully stood, knees cracking and muscles burning. He knew he'd be sore for a while, but also knew it wouldn't last for long. He grabbed a towel from the rack that was always stocked with them and wiped off his face, grabbing a water bottle from the cooler with his metal hand.

He decided to head back up to his shared floor with Steve to keep the blond from worrying too much.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he could smell breakfast. Steve was in the kitchen still in his bed clothes, humming contently as he cooked. Bucky made sure his injured hand was covered with the towel before making his presence known.