"Anything that's human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone."
Fred Rogers
2016
It wasn't Ophelia's screams and whimpers that woke Bucky from his sleep, but her restlessness. She writhed in her sleep and bumped against Bucky, and he woke with a sudden jolt. When he found himself in his apartment with Ophelia beside him, though not in her best state, he relaxed a little bit.
There was always the underlying thought in his mind that they might be discovered one day as there was always going to be people looking for them. But tonight it was just Ophelia, himself, and her nightmares. Thankful that he wasn't enduring them as well, he rubbed his eyes to rid the sleep from them and decided to wake Ophelia up. His own nightmares were different from hers; they were more insidious and daunting, he had to face everyone he had ever killed in his nightmares. But Ophelia's, they were more violent, because she was a victim to so much pain.
Bucky threw the blanket aside and grabbed Ophelia, who was lying on her side, muttering and shouting in her sleep. Grabbing underneath her arms, he brought her between his legs as he propped his back against the wall. When she was leaned against his chest, he wrapped one arm around her torso and held her close. Their heart beats were unmatched, hers racing like a rabbits. Sweat coated her hair and forehead, matting it to her skin. Bucky pressed his lips to the back of her head, took a deep breath, and began to talk to her.
"O, hey..." He started quietly, not wanting to startle her, though there was nothing he could do to make her situation worse. "Ophelia, it's okay."
Ophelia's eyes darted open and she lurched from Bucky's grasp. He held her tight so that she didn't scramble away and trip and hurt herself. It wasn't the first time Bucky had endured this with her, he knew what soothed her and she knew what soothed him.
A shuddery breath came from her lips as she tuned in to her surroundings, gasping for air and choking back sobs. Realizing she was at home, in Bucky's arms, she leaned back against him and cried for a few minutes. Bucky continued to hold her, saying nothing until she stopped crying. With one arm around her waist and the other over her collarbone, he was able to bring her back to a steady state. She brought her hands up and held onto his human arm that was around her collarbone, her nails digging into him but causing him no pain.
When there was silence for a few minutes aside from her staggered breathing, he spoke softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She wasn't sure.
She had never discussed her fear of him in their past.
She did not want to risk saying anything that might make him feel worse about himself. And yet she couldn't get that cold stare out of her mind; the way he looked at her as though she was worthless. However, she had to be fair and remind herself that not only did he not know who she really was back then (or himself), she was worthless. A bait dog used for the bigger dogs to damage just to release some anger and frustration. Using her to fight against the Death Squad had not increased their training, it had not made them better fighters. It made them more violent, more likely to crave ending someone's life. Ophelia felt so helpless even now, so many years later and in a completely different life, she felt as though she would never make a mark upon this world.
"It was..." She breathed out softly, swallowed nervously.
"You can't say anything that will upset me," he said it, though the words didn't exactly ring true. There was plenty that would upset him, but the deeper meaning of his words was there. He would never react to what she had to say, he would not get up and leave while she gushed her heart out, he could handle whatever it was.
"The way you looked at me." She appeared to be talking more to herself, and Bucky just listened. "I felt so... pitiful."
"When?" Bucky's jaw was tight.
Of course her memory was foggy about the time of her life that this event had happened. She didn't know the year, or how long she had been out of cryo. "The others... The others like you. Not like you... I mean..."
Bucky sighed. "Death Squad."
Ophelia couldn't seem to find the words that she needed to explain how she felt when her nightmare had brought her back to that time. There wasn't a way to word it so that she didn't make Bucky feel as though he was to blame, because in reality, his harsh words were the reason she hadn't died in that metal cage. She didn't expect him to apologize for it, or to explain himself, there was nothing to explain. She had been a waste of their time, throwing her in there just to laugh at as she had to be dragged out week after week. HYDRA would never stop taunting her; only for a short time had they even used her to her full potential. Throwing her in with the Death Squad was probably some cruel form of punishment from a time she didn't remember. She remembered it all now, of course, but back then she didn't know what she had done wrong.
"Do you want to read it?" he asked.
This was the first time that Bucky had ever asked Ophelia to read some of what was in his journals; there were times when he spoke them to her, particularly their memories together, but to actually be able to read it was different. He wouldn't be able to skip parts that he didn't want her to know, if she actually had her eyes on the paper, she would be able to feel what he felt in a fraction of a degree. Getting into his mind, that was something she hadn't done for a long time. In the beginning, after Washington, he had asked her to connect with him only once more, to ensure that there were no more walls holding back his memories. She had told him that they were all there, his memories, but they would come when they were meant to, painful or not.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded, she could feel his head move against her. A heavy sigh lifted his chest up, and she shifted so that he could get out of the bed. She crossed her legs and hunched her back forwards, watching as he walked over to the kitchen, where he kept the journals under the floor board. There was always one not in there, for memories that still came to him, but she knew that it was rare for them to show up anymore. All he had written down, at least a dozen notebooks, it was all in a backpack under the floor boards. She could hear the wood shifting, groaning as it was tugged out of its place. A zipper, some shuffling, and then Bucky came back to the bed. He held it tight in his metal hand; if it had been his human hand his knuckles would have been white. This was a turning point for him, he had pushed down another wall.
"Do you want me to read it out loud?" she asked him.
"Sure," he replied after a pause to think about it. Hearing the words, for this particular memory, would help ease his conscience. Hearing Ophelia speak the words that he had wanted to say to her would close this door for good. He had not known that the memory haunted her, and so had never given any thought to explaining it to her. Flipping open the notebook, he found the right page after a bit of searching, and handed it to her.
"Blue?" She referred to the sticky note marker at the top of the page.
"Memories with you."
She half smiled, and read the first line on the page in her head. It stated that the date of this event had been late fall, 1991. Instead of reading ahead in her mind and then speaking it out loud, she took a deep breath and began reading for both of them to hear.
" 'I didn't know who she was, not really. But day after day I watched as they nearly beat the life out of her. Some days she wouldn't be released from her cell, some days I didn't know if she was still alive. Despite not knowing her aside from her name and her ability, despite not knowing the connection that we had in a past HYDRA stripped from us, I didn't understand why they were doing that to her. After a few weeks of the endless torment, the last beating keeping her subdued for a full week, I couldn't watch it any longer. I'd killed, I'd tortured, I'd mutilated, but I simply obeyed my commands. It was clear that she was part of HYDRA, which meant she was on the same side as me. And no one commanded me to stand and watch, to let it go on until she never recovered.
" 'When they brought her out again that day, there was something in the back of my mind that told me not to show any inkling of care when I finally stopped it. I almost didn't say anything, until she looked at me with utmost fear and a hint of pleading. Even then, I watched as they brought her to her knees, bruising her face, breaking her ribs. All that, I could handle. When they began to strangle her, I knew they weren't going to stop. The way she looked at me, the life disappearing from her eyes by the seconds, I thought I saw something in her eyes that I hadn't seen in years. Looking back at it, I know what it was now, what drove me to stop her execution.' " Ophelia breathed out, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Bucky didn't need to read the words on the paper to finish off what Ophelia couldn't choke out anymore. " 'I couldn't show them weakness, I had to make it appear as though there was nothing about her that I cared about, only that she was wasting our time. I took her place in that cage from then on, and even as I was brought down to a fraction of a man day after day, I never regretted getting her out of there. With or without my memories, I knew that there was something different about her.' "
"Bucky..." Her voice cracked violently.
"I have a lot of regrets, a lot of memories I wish I could take back," he said. "But I'd rather have all of them, the good, the bad, the ugly, than forget any of the ones I had with you."
Ophelia knew that was Bucky's way of saying he loved her.