Broken
“Bucky?”
You heard something smash and you ran into the kitchen to see the shattered remains of a glass on the floor. Bucky stood tall and rigid in the middle of the room, his long dark hair falling in front of his dipped head.
“Bucky?” you called again, this time stepping cautiously around the broken shards. His head snapped up and a pair of cold, calculating blue eyes stared up at you. You backed up close to the wall the second he picked up a knife from the counter. You were just about to call out for help when suddenly he had you pinned up against the wall, his forearm on your neck. You gasped with pain and struggled against him, the flesh of his human arm hot against yours.
“Where am I?” he demanded, pressing the blade against your arm, it’s cool metal searing your skin. You winced and gritted your teeth, attempting to choke out some words but your voice died. He growled at your silence and let the sharp knife pierce your skin, blood oozing out of the wound slowly, running down your arm. The tips of your toes barely touched the ground as you swung your legs desperately. He pressed his body against yours to stunt your movement. You were positive he could feel your heart beat on his arm but there was no emotion in his eyes, only anger.
You attempted to drop to the ground with all of your strength, taking the chance to bite down hard on his arm, the metallic taste of blood tainting your mouth. He cursed under his breath and stepped back, letting you drop to the floor. You scrambled to your feet, rubbing your raw throat as you gasped for air.
“You’re in t-the Avengers T-Tower!” you coughed, stumbling through the kitchen and out into the living room. You knew any second now, he’d follow you, so you grabbed a ceramic vase filled with tulips. Before you had a chance to dump the flowers, he stalked out of the kitchen, blood spilling onto his hand from his wound.
“You’re name is James Buchanan Barnes,” you began to shout, before you were cut off.
“Do NOT lie to me,” he snarled, reaching out to grab your wrist. You smashed the vase over his head, water spilling out over his hair and orange tulips tumbling onto the floor. While he was momentarily distracted, you pounced.
Using all of your strength, you jumped onto him, knocking him onto his back. You pinned his arms to his side with your legs as you straddled his stomach as best as you could.
“SNAP OUT OF IT BUCKY! GOD DAMMIT YOU’RE SAFE, HYDRA HAVE NO CONTROL OVER YOU. DON’T FUCKING MAKE ME KNOCK YOU OUT!” you screamed, using your hands to hold the side of his face. He just stared back, frowning. He didn’t struggle against your hold.
“Why… why am I here?” he whispered. “Why are you here with me?”
“Because… James, you don’t remember right now and I don’t know why that is,” you said. “But I hope you remember, even just from now on, that I will always be here with you.”
“Do you… I mean… why would you…” he trailed off, shifting uncomfortably underneath you, but you didn’t budge.
“Are you stupid or something?” you exclaimed, almost laughing. “Why else? I love you!”
His eyes shifted slightly, widening and then he blinked, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
“(Y/N)?” he finally blurted out. You smiled, and climbed off of him, helping him sit up. You knelt down beside him, picking the pieces of the vase from his hair.
“Sorry I threw a vase at you, I’ll make you 2am pancakes to make up for it, after we clean all this up,” you said, going to stand up. He grabbed your wrist gently before you had a chance and pulled you back down.
“(Y/N)… did you mean it?” he asked, staring at his hand on yours.
“Yeah, they’re just pancakes…”
“You know what I mean.”
“Of course,” you said softly. He opened his mouth but you stopped him. “I don’t expect you to say it, okay? Now come now, we better get this cleared up.”
You kissed him on the forehead and stood up, going into the kitchen to find a sweeping brush and a pan under the sink. You swept up the broken glass in the kitchen and threw them into the bin. When you walked into the living room again, you found Bucky picking up the pieces of ceramics and holding them in his metal hand. He stood up straight when you came in and held out his other hand hesitantly, a bunch of blood-stained tulips clenched in his bloody fist.
“Shit, Bucky come here, we’ll get that cleaned up,” you said, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the kitchen and over to the sink. You took the flowers from him and set them into the basin of the sink. You put his forearm under the tap and rinsed off the blood from where you bit him. He reached over and dropped the pieces of the vase into the bin without the rest of his body moving.
“Sorry for biting you, I can’t believe I bit you,” you muttered lowly. “Keep your hand there for a second.” You started rooting through the drawers for a first aid kit. You found it and started rummaging through it for disinfectant.
“It might sting… oh,” you began saying, until you realised the oval-shaped teeth marks were almost healed completely.
“The serum kind of speeds up healing,” he said sheepishly, his voice husky and deep.
“Well… now I don’t feel as bad,” you laughed awkwardly. He touched your arm and a pained expression flashed over his face. “What? What is it?”
You looked down and saw dried blood that had trickled down the side of your arm.
“Oh that, can’t even feel it with the adrenaline rush, it’s fine,” you brushed it off.
“It’s not fine, I hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, grabbing a cloth from the box and running it under the tap. He dabbed the blood from your arm and you flinched from the cold water.
“You know well you weren’t the real you. THIS is you, someone you care about is barely hurt and you can’t help but worry irrationally,” you reassured him. He sighed and focused on cleaning your wound.
“I don’t think it’ll need stitches,” he said eventually, putting the end of a bandage between his teeth and unrolling it with one hand. He dropped the cloth in the sink and wrapped the bandage around your arm tightly.
“Thanks Mr Nurse,” you joked, attempting to relieve some of the thick tension that consumed the air. He nodded without meeting your gaze and turned to walk out. You grabbed his pinkie finger and giving him puppy dog eyes. “I promised you pancakes, and so you’re getting pancakes.”
He nodded and sat on the counter, watching you as you pottered around the kitchen collecting ingredients. You tried your best to keep your smile from faltering, but inside, you were overwhelmed with worry for Bucky.
“So… I relapse, and you make me pancakes?” he asked, fiddling with his thumbs.
“Just for tonight,” you said, nudging against him with a soft smile.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he replied, jumping down off the counter and wrapping his arms around your waist. You closed your eyes and leaned back against his chest, sighing. If you could have stayed there like that forever, you would have. It always shocked you how some of the most peaceful moments came after some of the worst.