Save Me, Steve. // Captain America

1- Bucky

"Who was I, Steve?" I plead, staring into those bottomless blue eyes of his. Those familiar bottomless blue eyes of his.

My head's pounding like crazy, like someone's driving a knife slowly through my temple and straight into my brain. I can see how devastated he is at my crude remarks, and something deep inside of me wants to jump up from the stiff hospital bed sheets and wrap my arms tight around his neck.

What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not gay, hell no! And I can't remember ever being gay.. or can I?

Wow my head is fucked up, and I mean really fucked up. What's worse is that it's all so unclear, uncertain. What's real inside my head may well be some stupid lie that that shitbag Pierce has manipulated me into thinking is true, and what's actually real has been drummed into me as being a false.

"We aren't enemies, Bucky. Well, we didn't used to be." He says, his eyes full with an old sadness that yet again unleashes the desire within me to comfort him.

"Then what were we?" I whisper.

"We were.. friends- best friends." He just stutters, avoiding my gaze and instead focusing on his hands lying awkwardly in his lap.

In that moment there was one thing about him that I was certain of.

He is a terrible liar.

It makes me want to slap him in the face and tell him to get over it, to tell me everthing about who I used to be. About who we used to be.

"Oh," I murmur, unsure of what to say. I can't help but feel hurt at his denial of our.. former relationship, or whatever it was. I mean he's buff as hell but he certainly doesn't act like it.

But now, I can see he's a broken man, completely shattered because he's lost the most important thing in his life, and when he had found him he was nothing more then a vicious man with a blank brain, chained to a hospital bed for god knows how long before he finally resurfaced.

"We'd been friends since we were just boys, we grew up together," Steve began, the massive amount of effort it takes for him to keep composed is clear in his slouching muscles. "We went to the same schools, chased the same girls," He said, letting out a small snigger at the mention of girls.

Inside joke, I note. Probably one of ours.

"We were inseperable, you would rarely see us apart, I tell you. When we left education, we both even wanted the same job, to join-"

"The army." I remember. I remember. Steve looks up, staring into my eyes with an expression that can only be described as hope. Sheer, unbreakable hope. Poor guy.

"The army," He agrees, a sparkle in his eyes that makes my stomach flutter. Guess I'm no tougher than he is. "Of course, you got accepted right away, but me? Don't you remember?"

This time I try, I really try. I force myself to imagine me wearing an army uniform, marching, even fighting. But there was just darkness. Emptiness. A huge hole filled with memories gouged out of my life by Pierce. The pain is sheer fucking hell, ripping at my head like my own mind doesn't want me to remember. Fuck you, brain. Fuck you.

Steve sees me struggling, my pain mirrored in his eyes. "Well, I was short, thin and brittle as a stick insect. They were never gonna accept me, never in a thousand years. But I kept trying. Everyday I would go down to the signups and everyday I would be turned away."

He turns away, trying to hide from me the fresh little tears that were escaping from his eyes. Even though I feel sorry for him, he's still a wimp. A big fucking wimp. He takes a few long moments to recollect himself before he turns back to me, his eyes never quite meeting mine.

"You really don't remember? Not even when I was a scrawny little lad?" He pesters, his voice more urgent and now rather irritating.

"No. I remember, I remember.." It's so difficult. The darkness keeps begging for me to let it in, and this time it's winning. It crawls into my eyes, hazing my eyesight and leaving behind a muddy-like remnant that is fucking painful. Steve looks at me like a bloody big puppy dog, waiting, hoping.

"You. I fought you, and I was winning. I was kicking your sorry ass!" I yell, making Steve flinch back in his chair.

I'm angry. So fucking angry.

"You were nothing, the great Captain America beaten by his old lover!" I mock him, each word thick with venom. "You're not my friend, you're my enemy."

"No, I'm not, Bucky-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" I scream, frustration clear in my voice. Who the fuck does he think he is, calling me stupid made up names like he owns me. "I told you! I don't know who the fuck Bucky is and why the fuck you keep thinking I'm him! Grow a pair!"

I tug against the annoying shit holding me down, it can't restrain my metal arm for much longer, I know that much.

I see that he's panicking, and I hope that he keeps panicking long enough for me to bash his fucking soppy brains in.

"Please just listen to-"

"No! I've listened to enough of your shit already and I've had enough! Goddam it, I should have finished you off on that Helicarrier, I SHOULD HAVE LET YOU DROWN!" I laugh when I saw his broken expression, when the few walls he still has placed around himself crumble down like I'd just swung a wrecking ball at them. "I suggest you leave me the fuck alone, I'm sick of hearing your lies and your whiny voice and your twisted goddam stories." I dismiss him curtly. Wow that felt good.

The man that stands before me isn't a man anymore, but a boy. A boy in a man's body, broken and ruined beyond repair at my hand. Or metal hand, I'm not that fussed which. The amount of effort it takes for him to rise from the chair beside me and slowly walk towards the door is unbelievable.

He's not moving fast enough, in my opinion.

He says nothing, he just looks back at me with the expression of a man who has no will to live. And I mentally pat myself on the back.

As the door swings shut behind him, emptiness fills the room, suppressing and replacing all my boiling anger with numbing loneliness and a tiny shred of doubt.

I angrily shove the big red button on the wall with my fist, and lay back as the fresh morphine flows into my system and eases my pain. But only my physical pain.