Stay - Hans Zimmer
The darkness was something it feared. It shouldn’t fear, however. It shouldn’t feel anything. The Winter Soldier was a machine, design to comply. Any order it was given, it was to do. If that meant killing, then it would comply. If it meant orders, then it would comply. If that meant sexual needs, then it would comply. It hated those orders. Rumlow had no desire to use orders like those for it. It was the countless Hydra agents who did.
The dark meant that any one of those Hydra agents would come in and do whatever they pleased. The Winter Soldier, or as they called it, Vronsky, was to comply. No arguing. Some nights there was one, others two or more. The more men, the more pain. It dreaded those nights. The only time it tried to argue, the pain was worse. There was only one Hydra agent that night. Just one. Vronsky could’ve handled one. But it argued when it was given orders to strip its clothes. The agent didn’t appreciate that. V fell to the floor, looking up in pure terror as he called more agents in.
Five agents. It was the most Vronsky had ever taken on. It remembers screaming and yelling, trying everything in its power to get away. By this time, four of the against had pinned it to the ground, struggling to do so. It was only when the final agent had started his pleasure, did it stop fighting. The tears just rolled down, letting the agent do as he pleased. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe a part of it just knew that no matter what it did, no matter how hard it had tried to fight, the against would still abuse it. The last thing it saw was the other four agents, undoing their belt buckles.
Steve woke up to the sound of Bucky's screams. He scrambled to his feet, remembering to open the door as to not freak Buck out anymore. “Buck,” He spoke softly, opening the door to find Bucky, tucked away in a corner and covered by the small, mounted table in the room. He had his legs pressed to his chest again, making himself as small as he possibly could, shaking like a leaf at the same time. “Hi,” Steve said, getting down on Bucky's level. He inched further back into the corner, leaving no extra space between his back and the wall. “I won’t hurt you. I’m here to help, remember?” Buck, who was still trembling, nodded just enough for Steve to catch.
Steve sighed, still half asleep, not knowing what his next move should be. Does he stay here for as long as he needs? Does he try and coax Bucky out? God, this was just a roller coaster. “Water,” a murmur rattled Steve out of his daydreaming.
“What was that?” Steve asked cautiously. Buck gulped, trying to speak. “It…. r-r,” he stopped, burying his head in his arms and groaning out of a mix of frustration and panic. Steve waited patiently. “It’s alright. Take your time.” Bucky’s eyes were wide with fear, tears staining his cheeks.
“It… re-r.. Requires…. W-wa-water,” he forced out. To Bucky, it felt like all the words he wanted to say go caught in his throat, clogged his airways and trickling out like a leaky roof. It was a surprise when Steve smiled softly to it. When it… Vronsky? No, it, requested something like water or sustenance, it was usually punished for asking something so “ridiculous” or “unnecessary.” Steve spoke, “Alright, I’ll get you some,” he quickly left, “I’ll be back, Buck.”
Buck. Bucky. It was being referred to that a lot as of recently. It didn’t know why, but something about the name felt… familiar. Like a strange dream of another person. It was all foggy. It wished deep down that it could remember. It didn't understand why it couldn’t. It did remember why it was here. Something went wrong, that all it new. Maybe this... Steve, could help it recall that way it would no longer be defective. Would It be punished for asking for help? “Bucky?” Steve called out. It jumped, pushing itself against the wall. “Easy, easy, easy,” Steve shushed softly.
Steve slid a small canteen of water to Bucky. He was patient. That was one thing he had promised himself while he helped Bucky. Patience was to be his best friend throughout this. “Go ahead. It’s your water to drink.” He was hesitant at first, giving Steve quick glances between reaching for the canteen. Slowly, Bucky trusted the fact that Steve WAS allowing him to drink. The moment the lid hit the floor, he chugged the water, as if it was his last salvation.
“Woah, woah, slow down!” Steve smirked. Bucky immediately stopped, looking at Steve in fear.
“S…sorry,” he stammers, quickly setting down the canteen.
Cap sighed. “You can still drink, Buck, I just don’t want you hurting your stomach. If you finish it, I can get you some more.”
Buck wanted to speak but still finding difficult to get the words out made it useless. A scraping noise on the floor caught his attention. A pencil and a notepad was there. He could write.
Don’t punish it.
“That’s the last thing I’m gonna do to you Buck,” Steve assured, smiling to reinforce his intentions. He still couldn’t remember. All he needed was one memory. Just one. Was it worth it, though? His memory would come back, Tony had assured him that. But was it wise to push that one him so soon? Furthermore, his conditioning was apparent at this point in time. “Why do you call yourself ‘it?’ You aren’t the winter soldier. Not anymore.”
Vronsky was appalled. It was… the Winter Soldier. Right? He held his head in his hands, stressing over the fact that he, IT, could not recall what it truly was. Flashes of memories that didn’t belong to Vronsky made his head go sideways. Bucky, James, Winter Soldier, Vronsky, It. It switched every time. It pulled his hair, breathing heavily. His- Its chest was tight, heavy with guilty and fear.
And it came all at once. All the memories of who it was. Of whom HE was. He was James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky! He was Steves best friend. He… he fell from the train. The torture and all that Hydra did come back to him. His victims. Every single one. Ayo. He remembered Ayo. Oh, God. He had snapped back to his conditioning. That’s why he was here. He was here because he was still considered to be dangerous. He was still the winter soldier. And Buck had taken someone's kindness and destroyed it.
All it took was the god damn words.
“Buck,” Steve called, fearing his friend was too far gone at the moment. Those cold blue eye met Steves, wet with tears and riddled with fear. “Ayo. Is she…” Steve nodded softly. “Shes okay. Injured, but okay.” A sob rattled Bucky's body. He pulled his hair, running his nails down his face in dread. He was never going to be the same. That was it. Bucky slammed his head in his hand, wanting to break out of this skin and cease to exist.
“Bucky, stop!” Steve said, trying to get a hold of his friend. He pulled back when Bucky tried to punch him.
“Get out,” he snarled. Steve shook his head. “I’m not-”
“GET OUT!” Bucky screamed, lunging after Steve. With quick feet, he put distance between him and Bucky. To his surprise, however, Bucky came out from under table and charged at him. “I SAID GET OUT!”
He was gone. Steve actually left. It was just… Bucky. Exhaustion and emotion overtook Bucky. He collapsed to the floor, crying silently before screaming in pain. His sobs echoed throughout the room. Bucky had remembered everything. It hit all at once. The taser was a giant mental dam that he released the memories that tormented him for so long. Bucky curled up in the middle of the room, letting his tears puddle around him.
It was not Steves intention to bring back those memories all at once. God, what had he gotten himself into? He had only made Bucky's condition worse. He sighed, wanting to break down right there. A deep breath held him together as he walked away to go back to bed.
Tomorrow was a new day.
----------------------------------
Steve woke with a jolt. The minute his eyes opened; Bucky was the first thing that crossed it. He scrambled, tripping on his feet to see Bucky. Instead, he was met with Shuri, staring at the room. “Shuri,” he said. She shook her head.
“What happened last night?” She sighed. Steve was ashamed to tell her all that occurred. He couldn't handle this. As much as he wanted too, there was no way he could. Bucky was in the same spot as before. Middle of the room, knees to his chest. His hair covered his face, but glimpses of those bright blue eyes poke through. Wide and red with sleep deprivation. The skin around his fingernails were bloody, skin peeled back.
“His voice is nearly gone,” Shuri spoke. Steve was mortified. Had… had Bucky cried and screamed so much he made his throat go raw? He had to bite back tears just thinking about the anguish his friend was going through.
“Can I go in there?” He mustered out. Shuri must’ve thought he was just as lost and Bucky. “Captain, he is unstable. I am not so sure that is a wise decision.”
Bucky was worth the risk. He refused to lose him again. Once was more than enough. “I have to try.” The princess sighed, worried for how this would go. Reluctantly, she opened the door for Steve.
The room was silent. Bucky didn’t budge, staring blankly at the floor in front of him. “Go away, Steve,” He mumbles. Steve hadn’t notice it before, but he looks thinner, his muscle tone seemingly thinning out. Rogers wonders if Bucky had been avoiding food during his time here in Wakanda. Though, he didn't know how that would get past Shuri. “You aren’t going get rid of me that easily,” Steve is calm, as to not disturb Bucky any further. A deep sigh rattles Bucky.
“It is not Bucky. It is the Winter Solider. It is ready to comply. Any order, any task or any of your desires can be accomplished by it.” The way Bucky talks is cryptic. Almost as if he had rehearsed this “commercial” several times. He probably has. It wouldn’t surprise Steve if Hydra had made him repeat that every time, they deemed he was out of line. “You are not the Winter Soldier. You are James Buchanan Barnes. Your friends call you Bucky.”
Steve is slowly approaching Bucky, now on his level. “Don’t hurt me,” Bucky whispers, assuming that he might be punished for referring to himself as “me.” Steve, on the other, picks up on the slip, realizing that Bucky is still in there. “Me?” He quotes. Bucky is now panicking. “It is sorry. It d-didn’t mean to refer to itself as-” Steve gently takes Bucky's hand, something that he wasn’t expecting. Bucky is frozen, fearing the next move that Steve is going to make. He could break his fingers or his arm for misbehaving. “You do not need to apologize, Buck. You are a human being. You are not a machine. You are not the winter soldier.”
And suddenly Bucky begins to cry. He doesn’t mean too and it’s not aggressive sobbing. It’s just a steady stream of tears rolling down his face. “Steve…” He says, voice breaking. Steve is tender with Bucky, rubbing circles on the top of his hand. “I’m here to help you. We are going to get you back to normal. You are going to be normal again.”
Thats all Bucky wants. Deep down, past all the conditioning and torment, he wants to be normal. He wants to live out his days like a regular man. Maybe travel with Steve. It would be nice. “I’m s-sorry. It’s the conditioning. They made me-” He tries to explain before Steve shushes him. “I know. I know what they put you through. Your brain isn’t used to the normal conversations that go on. It hasn’t had a normal one for a while.” He looks Bucky up and down, examining him. His face is slim, and eyes are sunken in, dark circle prominent.
“Have you been eating during your stay here?” Steve askes, curious to know. Bucky bites his tongue, digging at the already bloody raw skin on his thumb. His eyes strayed far away from Steves, ashamed from what he was about to say. “I’d eat… sometimes,” he mumbles. He had disobeyed orders to eat. It wasn't supposed to disobey. The fear set in his eyes. He feared the Chair. He feared being prepped for cryofreeze. Punishment was on the table. Oh god. There was so much. He could feel his chest tighten, his eyes getting blurry.
“Buck, look… me. Look at…” Steve. Steve was talking to him. Bucky felt a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, scrambling back about two feet. Steve’s blurry figure put his arms up.
“It’s… you… can trust.” his voice was fading in and out. Trust. He could trust Steve.
Right? Hesitantly, he extends his arm out to Steve. Steve took his hand, rubbing circles on the top. “Breathe, Bucky,” Steve spoke. His voice was clear this time. Breath in, breath out. Breath in and breath out. Over and over again.
It took Bucky a minute to regulate his breathing and with the help of Steve. When Bucky was finally calmed down, Steve asked, “How’d you manage to get away with not eating without the noticing?”
Bucky took a moment, still unsure if he should explain. When Steve gave a simple nod to reassure, he knew he was safe. “When Shuri would take it for maint- health checks it- I would line the inside of its clothing with small, flat rocks. It would keep its clothing's baggier looking make it look like I-it was eating more. She never suspected anything because my food would be gone. In reality, it would take a few bites and throw the rest away.”
Steve looked back at the door, knowing that the princess was most likely fuming over the fact that she had been outsmarted. “I must say, I am impressed you managed to outwit Shuri. However, I am not pleased with the fact that you haven't been eating.” Bucky winced at those words. They felt like daggers, piercing him with such accuracy. He balled his body up again and tucked his face in his knees. “Is it going to be punished?” he spoke with a meek tone, like that of a child who was in trouble.
“Buck, you are not an it. You are a human being.” Steve reminded.
Right. He was a human. Bucky didn’t feel human. He felt like a machine. Like the Winter Soldier. It seemed like no matter how hard he had tried to keep that drilled into is head, it never stuck. His thumb was bleeding from how hard he was picking at it. His heart raced a million miles a minute. Bucky wasn’t going back to the Chair. Or into Cryo. Hydra wasn’t out to get him. He was safe. Safe with Steve, safe in Wakanda. Safe.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking an interest into the ground. The room was silent as the two sat together. To Steves surprise, it was Bucky who broke the silence. “Will I be normal?” his voice was so low that Steve barely caught. Before he could respond, Bucky began to cry again and like before, it wasn’t loud. Just tears, rolling down his face and his voice breaking. “I j-just want to be normal. I want to sleep normal. I want to eat n-normal. I just want the normal,” he cried, sniffling and breaking even further. “I can’t take it anymore, Steve.”
Cap waited for a moment, letting himself formulate an answer. “I don’t think you’ll be perfectly normal. Not prewar normal. That’s long gone, even for me,” Bucky’s face dropped, letting tears fall and crying a little harder. “But,” Bucky glanced up at Steve to listen, “I do think we can get you back to a ‘just about’ normal,” he assured. Bucky cried harder hearing that. That was good enough. If they could just make him fit in with society, then maybe he had a shot.
“I’m tired, Steve,” he croaked, “I’m so tired.”
“Are you willing to work for it?” Steve asked. Bucky nodded profusely. Of course he was. “Then let’s do it. You and me. I’m with you till the end of the line.”
Bucky felt himself smile softly. “You’re never going to give up on me, are you Steve?”
“Never.”