A/N *This is so shitty, I'm so sorry, I got a huge author's block in writing this chapter (idk why) and I've delayed my posting this up and omg. Anyways...yeah...that's all. I'm really sorry about this piece of crap of writing. I'm so annoyed about it.
ANYWAYS, I hope you have a fabulous holiday! ❤️*
Y/N couldn't breathe. He was talking to her. The Soldat. She swallowed back a scream of horror and licked her lips, her mouth dry, "Yes...We...We've met." Her voice was shaky and Steve squeezed her hand in comfort.
He stared into her eyes, his guarded blue ones piercing through her, turning her fear of him into sympathy and pity. Her heart ached at the hurt, confused look about him.
"I..." He frowned, which could mean that he was trying to recall something about her, but she wasn't sure what. Or if that was actually what he was doing, "You were younger then."
Her heart skipped a beat, "I was..." Her voice was starting to shake with apprehension and she felt like she was treading on thin ice with every word.
His face contorted with pain and she took a step back, her other hand clutching Steve's arm. Y/N manoeuvred herself so that she was hidden behind Steve, peeking around at Bucky, who was now clutching his head and wincing.
"Buck? You okay?" Steve asked, concern weighing on his words. He took a tentative step forward but the man in front of him raised a hand to stop him.
"I'm okay."
Bucky gasped as agony dug its claws into him, memories flashing left and right in his mind's eye. His brain felt like it was melting from pain and he had to hold back a scream, scared to alarm the woman in front of him.
All he could see was her dancing. He'd been forced to watch a little girl dance until she couldn't dance anymore as a part of his mind control...maybe. He wasn't sure. One thing he could remember was that if he didn't obey, they'd shoot the little dancing girl in the head in the middle of one of her leaps.
He remembered how serene and happy she was when dancing. He remembered seeing how her eyes closed and her face lit up the moment the music started and she went up on her tiptoes. She acted like she wasn't being forced to do this until she would pass out from fatigue. It seemed like she flew through the air, her limbs were so fluid in motion.
"Y/N Y/L/N." The scream of her name sped through his lips as an avalanche of torture crashed down on him, making his eyes water and get lightheaded.
She visibly stiffened at the mention of her name and he almost sagged with relief at the ability to remember her name. At least he got it right. At least he remembered.
"That's right." Her voice came out as a squeak and in any other situation, it would have been an amusing noise, but right now, at this moment, it wasn't the slightest bit humorous.
"How do you know her, Buck?" The Man on the Bridge...no, Steve, asked, his forehead creasing with curiosity and anxiety. Bucky noticed the grip Steve had on Y/N's hand like he was scared of him.
Bucky's mouth curled into a half-smile, though the memory was nice, though it wasn't, "She was the little dancing girl."
"What?" It was Steve's question that made him realise that he'd answered in Russian. Or maybe it was the sharp intake of breath coming from Y/N.
"She was 'the little dancing girl'." He repeated, this time in English. The throbbing sensations in his head had been replaced with an icy numbing, "The next Romanoff."
Y/N moved away from Steve and approached Bucky, carefully. Something inside him gave him the urge to scream. Why were they treating him like a china doll when they knew he could murder them without a blink of an eye? Why were they acting like he'd go off any second? Oh...because he could. He was the monstrous, metal-armed evil tyrant who killed people.
"Why did you watch me dance?" She was talking in Russian. It sounded sloppy to his ears, unused...like she hadn't spoken the language in years. Maybe she hadn't? Maybe she was trying to hide away from her past like he was...
Bucky looked up into her earnest, confused eyes and answered, "It was part of the control." He saw that the moment those six little words slipped out of him, her entire body stiffened and then loosened.
"I was part of your torture?" Her voice was quivering with pain...like she felt sympathy for the monstrous being he was.
How was he supposed to answer that? Nod? Say 'yes'? Instead, he broke eye contact and stared at the floor.
"Oh my God." This time in English.
They were going to leave him alone again. He was going to be alone with only the memories of his victims to entertain him.
But to his shock and surprise, he felt arms wrap around his shoulders and a head nestle into the crook of his neck. He looked up and saw Steve's bewildered face and a space beside the blond man. Y/N was hugging him. Y/N was hugging him? Why? He'd seen her look of horror at the window when he first came. He had seen the look of distrust and unease on her face when she entered his room.
"I'm so sorry for everything that happened..." Y/N pulled away and stared deep into his eyes, throwing him off guard, "But...Steve and I will help you," She looked over her shoulder at Steve, who nodded. "We promise." She was firm with her words and certain in her gaze.
What...what was going on? Why wasn't she trying to get away from him? Why was...what...how was she so...what? He couldn't catch his train of thought. His brain wasn't functioning properly.
"Thank you?"
~~~
"Hey, guys," Tony exclaimed as he entered the kitchen to greet the tired faces of his teammates, tossing fresh muffins from the bakery down the street at them, enjoying the surprised looks on their faces as they felt the freshly baked goods smack them on the nose and the inadvertent formation of double chins as they retracted their faces in surprise.
"It's too early for practice fights," Nat grumbled, picking up a blueberry muffin and squinting at it as she rolled it around in different angles, checking to make sure Tony didn't make them himself, presumably.
"Don't worry, they're from the bakery," Tony rolled his eyes, "You're not going to get poisoned."
Satisfied, Nat took a large bite from the muffin, eliciting another eye-roll from the genius. Clint, who was sat beside her immediately started eating his own baked good eagerly, and Bruce was still staring down at the food, looking almost distrustful at whether or not it was safe to eat.
"Relax, Brucey, it's fine."
Tony grabbed his own muffin and began chomping away at it, narrowing his eyes in the directions of Romanoff and Bruce, his line of vision jumping between them.
"Is anyone going to go see the new addition to our team today?" He questioned, taking a seat beside Clint. The answer came back as shaking of heads, "Okay..."
"Y/N is though. I overheard Steve and Y/N talking about it a few days ago," Clint chimed in, finishing his muffins and dusting his hands of the crumbs.
Nat straightened up in her seat and cleared her throat of any possible squeaks before replying, "What? She's going to meet him? Today?"
"Uh-huh." Clint nodded, reaching for another muffin in the bag then sighing dramatically when he found none, "What's wrong with that?"
Nat gave him a grim smile, "He's got something to do with her past–and mine, but that's not important."
She shot him a look that said to drop the subject and then moved on, asking breezily, "How are the kids?"
Clint's eyes lit up like fireworks at the mention of his children and happily began talking about everything that was going on, how Lila had lost a tooth, and how Cooper was getting taller...
Tony and Bruce raised their eyebrows at one another, drowning out the sound of Clint's chatter to talk about their research.
A/N*Again, I'm so sorry about this piece of shit, the next chapter will be better, I promise*