Bucky lay on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, sleeping peacefully. Then after a few minutes, his calm rest was disrupted as he began to twitch and moan with fear. His movements grew more intense, kicking and thrashing as he struggled with a deep, shaky breath. He let out a loud groan, clenching the pillow tightly with his metal arm and burying his face in it. The intensity of his distress seemed to worsen as he continued groaning and moaning.
Steve watched helplessly as Bucky writhed in the grip of his nightmare. Concern etched on his face, he moved closer, reaching out with trembling hands. “Bucky”, he murmured gently, hoping to offer comfort and pull his friend back from the torment of his dreams.
Bucky's breathing increased as he gripped the pillow tighter, his fear evident in his muttered pleas: “No...don’t...don’t...stay...stay away” Another deep groan escaped him as he struggled to breathe, his hair matted to his face and blowing with each heavy breath.
Steve dropped to his knees beside Bucky, his voice soothing as he tried to reach him. “Hey, hey, Bucky, wake up. Wake up” He gently stroked the damp, sweat-slicked skin of Bucky’s shoulder.
"Stay away," Bucky mumbled again, his movements growing more frantic. “Stay back...stop...stop...please stop!” He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tightly.
Steve persisted, gently caressing Bucky’s shoulder and urgently trying to rouse him. “Bucky, wake up”
“No...stop...stop...stop...stay back...Stay back!” Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic. With a sudden gasp, his eyes flew open, wide with terror, and he attempted to escape the unseen threat.
Steve moved closer, carefully holding him down while speaking softly to calm him. “It’s okay, Bucky. You’re safe. I’m here” He continued to offer soothing words and a steady presence, working to bring Bucky back to the present and ease his fear.
Bucky panted rapidly, his gaze locking on Steve, who wore a sad but concerned smile. With a trembling motion, Bucky used his metal arm to pull Steve closer. As Steve continued to speak soothingly, his voice steady and calming, Bucky began to focus on him. “Shh. I’m here. It’s okay. It’s okay, Bucky. It’s okay,” Steve whispered gently, stroking Bucky’s metal arm and hand.
Bucky panted one last time, his eyes darting around the living room before he sighed deeply. His body sagged with exhaustion, and he sank back onto the pillow, resting his head as he continued panting. Steve strokes the sweaty shoulder and forehead as he patiently watches Bucky calm down. “Oh, fuck”, he mumbled weakly with anger. Steve kissed the sweaty shoulder, caressing his hand while staring at his friend.
Bucky continued to pant heavily, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. He let out a deep sigh, trying to relax as he looked up at Steve, his friend’s reassuring presence helping him steady his breathing.
Steve relaxed, his shoulders easing as he saw Bucky finally calm and awake. He rested his elbow on the couch, chin in his hand, and gently brushed Bucky's hair with his free hand. They locked eyes, their silent exchange heavy with unspoken words and raw vulnerability.
“You okay?”
Bucky slowed a nod as he stared at him.
Steve smiled at him and then frowned. “You...want to talk about it?”
Bucky stared at him, eyes hollow, before turning away with a silent shake of his head. Steve’s heart ached as he nodded, recognizing the unspoken plea. He was all too familiar with Bucky’s tortured nights and the echoes of his screams that haunted their shared space. As much as it pained him, Steve was relieved Bucky remained silent about his nightmares. Honestly, Steve didn't want to know what Bucky was dreaming about.
“Do you want anything?” He asked.
Bucky didn’t respond; he merely stared at the floor with a stony expression.
Steve’s frown deepened as he reached out to touch Bucky’s face. But with a swift, practiced motion, Bucky’s hand gripped Steve’s wrist, pinning it to the couch with a jarring force. Bucky remained stoic and stared at the floor. Steve's expression remained sadness that was starting to grow, the pain in his hand overshadowed by the deeper ache of Bucky’s rejection. Steve saw the pain and guilt flickering beneath Bucky's stoic mask and glanced at the gleaming metal limb. He gulped. Bucky never wanted him or anyone to touch his metal limb and if anyone does even if it was an accident, Bucky will react hostilely. He remembered the time Clint had accidentally touched it, only to be met with a violent outburst that left him nursing a bruised hand. He and the others stood a few feet away from Bucky, while Steve tried to comfort him but he took off in his room locking the door. The memory stung, especially as he heard Bucky's anguished fists pounding the walls of his room.
Steve’s frown deepened as he looked back at the pristine metal arm, then at his friend, still staring blankly at the floor. The distance between them felt as cold and unyielding as the arm itself.
“Bucky… please, talk to me”, Steve pleaded, his voice trembling. The fear in his eyes was evident as they welled with tears. Bucky has never behaved like this and it was heartbreaking and frightening for Steve. “You don’t have to look at me—just say something”
Bucky continued to stare at the floor, his voice finally cutting through the silence with icy calm. “I have nothing to say to you, Rogers”, he coldly said. “Except go away”
Steve felt his body freeze, his heart clenching painfully as his stomach dropped. Tears brimmed, threatening to spill over, the harshness of Bucky’s words cutting deep into him. Bucky sounded so different. Like James Buchanan Barnes he had known his whole life was no longer there before him. Bucky continued staring at the floor, ignoring the hurt in Steve.
“Bucky...you can't...mean...that”
He remained silent.
“Bucky”, Steve sobbed his name.
“Stop calling me that”, Bucky growled, his eyes fixed on the floor. "I’m not the person you remember, and I never will be. Get it through your thick skull, Rogers, and leave me alone" His words were laced with a brutal edge, each one striking with such calculated cruelty.
Steve felt his heart shatter into countless pieces, every doubt and pang of guilt mocking him. The pain was unbearable as if his insecurities were gleefully tearing him apart at seeing Bucky like this. “Bucky...” Steve reached out for Bucky again, his hand nearing the metal arm. In an instant, Bucky’s reaction was feral—he seized Steve’s hand with his metal limb, squeezing it painfully. Steve gasped, the sharp agony making him wince as Bucky yanked him close. The sneer on Bucky’s face was cold and menacing, a cruel threat that sent shivers down Steve’s spine.
“And what do you think you're fucking doing, Rogers?” He asked with such intimidation.
“Bucky...”
“I said stop fucking calling me that and get fucking lost, Rogers! Now!” He shoved Steve to the floor with a rough shove and stalked off to his room, where the unmistakable sound of his metal fist crashing into something would begin.
Steve immediately stood up after him. “Bucky, wait!” He grabbed his metal arm.
Bucky snapped. Steve gasped as Bucky’s cold metal hand gripped his throat, spinning him then violently slammed him against the wall. He faced his friend’s hostile gaze, the question of whether this man was still his friend hanging painfully in the air.
“Bu...cky”, he wheezed, his hands hanging limply as he felt the vice-like grip of Bucky’s metal arm tightening around his throat.
“I...said...don't...call...me...that”, he snarled back at him with his face close to his. Steve remained calm as he continued wheezing and his hands still limped. “If you say that name to me or dare try to fucking touch me again...”, Bucky stopped for a moment. “I will make you regret it, Rogers, got it?”
Steve stared at him then coughed a gasp when Bucky tightened his grip. “I said 'got it'?”
He nodded, only to be slammed against the wall again before Bucky released him. Steve crumpled to the floor, gasping and coughing, rubbing his bruised neck. As he watched Bucky walk away to his room, Steve’s heart shattered, and tears spilled down his face, helplessly watching his friend retreat.
Steve lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his hands resting limply on the cover. Since the confrontation, he had cried for hours, his eyes swollen and red. Bucky's cruel words echoed relentlessly in his mind, each harsh syllable a painful reminder of their shattered bond. The silence of his room was punctuated only by the muffled, violent sounds coming from next door, that was deafening Bucky's hard words in his head, and the sounds next door were making him cry more.
Steve continued hearing him, his heart pounding, as Bucky’s tortured screams pierced through the walls. The sound of the cover and sheets flapping loudly and the objects crashing to the floor from the nightstand followed, each thud amplifying the anguish in Bucky’s voice. The screams, laced with pain and terror, felt like daggers in Steve's chest, their echoes mingling with the cruel words Bucky had hurled at him. The combination of physical and emotional torment left him incredibly paralyzed, unable to escape the suffocating agony.
Steve tensed as Bucky let out one final, anguished yell, followed by the sound of ragged breathing. Then came the soft, wrenching sounds of Bucky crying, which slowly faded into silence. With a shaken heavy sigh, Steve forced himself to close his eyes, his despair a constant companion as he drifted into a restless sleep.
Steve and Bucky were children again, running and laughing under a sunlit sky, their faces radiant with joy. No armor, no shield, no metal arm—just the pure, unburdened delight of being together. Bucky's smile was bright as he hugged Steve tightly.
“Bucky, you are my best friend”, Steve said cheerfully.
“And you’re mine too, Steve”
“We’ll be friends till the end of the line, right?” Steve asked, his voice full of hope. But Bucky’s smile faltered, his expression chilling into a cold, empty stare.
Fear gripped Steve as he released Bucky. “Bucky?”
Without a word, Bucky shoved Steve away, turning toward an encroaching abyss. From the darkness emerged a sinister symbol: a human skull with six outstretched octopus arms. Bucky walked towards it, leaving Steve paralyzed with dread.
“Bucky, wait! Don’t go there! It looks scary! Bucky, wait!” Steve cried, sprinting after him, his voice trembling with panic. But Bucky marched steadily toward the ominous red symbol, his gaze fixed on the dark abyss. The distance between them stretched impossibly, Steve’s desperate efforts to reach him futile against the overwhelming pull of the darkness and the menacing symbol. The void loomed larger, swallowing any trace of hope as Bucky moved closer, leaving Steve in helpless terror.
“Bucky, stop! Come back! Please, don’t go!” Steve shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. He fell hard to the ground, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to reach Bucky. As Bucky crossed the threshold of the dark abyss and vanished, Steve’s heart shattered. “Bucky, no!” he screamed, tears streaming down his face, his eyes hollow with grief as the darkness swallowed his friend completely.
As the darkness receded, Steve saw a figure emerge from the red symbol. It wasn’t his friend but an adult clad in black, with long hair, a black mask covering his mouth, and a cold, steel arm gleaming ominously with a red star. His eyes were empty, devoid of any emotion. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, paralyzed with horror. “Bucky?” he whispered in trembling fear.
The masked figure drew a gun with mechanical precision, pointing it directly at Steve. In a chilling, emotionless voice, he intoned, “Hail Hydra”
*Blam!*
Steve gasped for breath, his eyes red, his cheeks streaked with tears, and his body frozen. Sweat soaked through his shirt, clinging to his chest as he panted heavily, unable to move from the terror of his nightmare. Suddenly, he froze, his heart racing as he saw a figure standing silently beside his bed.
Steve fumbled to turn on the lamp from the nightstand, casting a warm glow across the room. As the light revealed Bucky, Steve’s breath caught. Bucky stood there, his expression stoic but devoid of the haunting attire from the nightmare—no black leather, no mask, no gun. Steve smiled. “Bucky?”
“You were having a bad dream”, Bucky replied stoically.
Steve sat up, a tearful smile spreading across his face as he reached out to embrace Bucky. But Bucky’s eyes hardened, and he shoved Steve away. “Don't touch me!” he snapped, his voice cutting through the fragile moment.
Steve frowned, his gaze fixed on Bucky, who now stared solemnly at the floor. “I'm sorry”, he apologized.
Bucky continued staring at the floor. “I heard you. It was about me, wasn't it?”
Steve's frown deepened. How much did he hear? Did he say anything else? How long has he been standing there? “Bucky...”
Bucky grabbed him by his shirt collar. “I said don't call me that, Rogers”
Steve swallowed hard, a lump in his throat, and forced a serious expression onto his face. “Bucky, you can’t control me to stop calling you that name. No matter what you say or do, you will always be my Bucky”, Steve said firmly, his voice steady and resolute.
Bucky growled and roughly shoved Steve back onto the bed before turning to leave the room. Steve scrambled to his feet. “Bucky!” he called, his voice pleading. Bucky halted at the doorway, his back facing Steve.
Steve sighed deeply. “Please, don’t go”
Bucky remained silent and motionless, his body stiff at the threshold.
“Talk to me, Bucky”, Steve urged desperation lacing his words. “I know you want to, just like I do”
Bucky remained silent for a moment before finally speaking, his voice cold and dismissive. “There's nothing to talk about, Rogers”, he said, glancing back at Steve over his shoulder with a piercing, cruel gaze.
“Bucky, you know that’s not true”, Steve said, his voice steady with unwavering resolve. “You know as well as I do that you want me to help you. I want to help you, and no matter how much you push me away, I’ll be here for you. I’ll stand by you…till the end of the line” His words were infused with deep loyalty and determination.
Bucky glared at Steve, then turned away, his voice barely above a whisper. “Steve…are you scared of me?” His tone was heavy with a mix of hope and dread as if he was desperately clinging to the chance that Steve’s answer might be something other than the truth he feared.
“Of course not, Bucky”, Steve answered with such love and truth for his friend. “And I'll never be”
Bucky slowly turned back, his expression cold and menacing. As he advanced toward Steve, each step seemed to intensify the silence between them. Steve stood frozen, waiting, as Bucky’s metal fingers dug into his skin, shoving him roughly against the wall. Their eyes locked in a fierce, unspoken confrontation, the tension in the room palpable and suffocating. Steve stared at the dark circles underneath his eyes from the restless nights of his nightmares as he frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you are my Bucky. You are my—” Steve’s words were cut off as Bucky’s flesh hand slammed violently against the wall making a hole right next to Steve's head. The impact reverberated through the room as Bucky’s metal hand tightened around Steve’s neck. Despite the crushing pressure and his ears ringing from the blow, Steve was unflinching, and calmly met Bucky’s gaze, seeing a storm of regret, anger, and guilt in his eyes.
“I am not you're fucking friend!!!” He yelled at him in the face. “I am not the damn Bucky you knew and I never will be! I fucking told you that! Why can't you see that, Rogers?! Why can't you open your fucking eyes and see that I am not that Bucky anymore?!”
“Because...”, Steve said calmly as he remained calm. “you are my friend”, he then made a wheezing cough.
“I. Am. Not. Your. Friend”, Bucky growled back as he slowly squeezed his metal grip around his neck.
Steve's hands remained limp at his sides as he stared intently at his friend. “Then if you are not my fucking friend then what are doing in my room in the first place?” He asked stonily. "If what you say is true, especially those things you said earlier then why are you here?"
He stared into Steve’s eyes, his own filled with anguish, and lowered his head as his metal hand slowly loosened its grip on Steve’s neck. “I don’t know”, he murmured. “I just don't know. I don't know anything anymore”, he mumbled in anger.
“You do know, Bucky,” Steve said, his voice steady despite the pain. “You’re wrong about that. You think you’re no longer the James Buchanan Barnes or the Bucky I once knew, but you are. Just being here with me proves it”
Bucky scoffed, his gaze shifting from the dented wall where his flesh fist had struck then to the gleaming metal arm. Slowly, his grip on Steve’s neck began to loosen, each movement heavy with the weight of his internal conflict. “How can be so fucking sure of that, Rogers?”
“Because I know you, Bucky,” Steve said, his hand trembling as he reached out. With a gentle touch, he brushed his fingers through the silken strands of Bucky’s hair, his smile a fragile anchor in the storm. “I’ve known you my whole life, and I don’t regret a single moment of it. You’ve known me just as long, and I know you don’t regret it either” The words were a quiet promise, offering solace amid the turmoil.
“I do regret it,” Bucky snapped, his voice hoarse and strained, trying to sound as if he was truthful to his words. “I regret every moment I had wasted being with someone like you. Even if I do or don’t remember all of my memories, I still wish I’d never met you. I wish you’d never been part of my life. I wish I never fucking met you or known you my whole damn life! I regret the very day I met you and started being with you! I wish I never liked wasting and spending time with someone like you! I wish I'd never fucking met you!” He continued raving on as he punched the wall again with his flesh fist, until finally he finished, panting heavily then tightly pressed his lips together. Saying such lies was making him look almost sick. Even feel sick. Why was saying such things? How could he say such things? How dare he say such things to his friend? The only friend he has ever known and loved. How dare he say such things to that friend who has been there and is still here for him after those long years? The memories he cherished, slowly returning to him, spoke of a bond he could not fully deny.
While staring calmly as he remained unflinching by his actions and words and patiently waiting for him to finish, Steve saw through Bucky’s façade and smiled, knowing that he was lying. “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” Steve said in a singing tone, his smile widening as he rested his palm on his cheek. “If you're going to lie, you're gonna have to do better than that, Bucky”
Feeling the warmth and comfort from Steve’s hand, Bucky let out a soft, weak, and defeated chuckle. He slumped forward, his long brown hair falling over his face. “You are impossible, St–Rogers”, he pressed his lips tighter, nearly saying that name.
“It's my features”, Steve smiled.
Bucky makes another chuckle then a deep sigh. “I killed people, Steve. I…killed innocent people…men, women, even…”, he growled as he dug his flesh hand in the wall deeper. “even…children”
Steve gazed intently as he placed his hands gently on Bucky's cheeks, caressing them softly with a tender touch. “I know, Bucky. But all of that wasn't you. It was never you”
Bucky's chuckle was faint, almost as if it was escaping against his will. He lifted his head slowly, meeting Steve's gaze with eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I…I always knew there was something wrong with me”, he said, his voice cracking, as he turned his face away from Steve and he bowed his head, once again letting his hair blanket his face.
Steve’s heart ached as he gently and quickly cupped Bucky’s face, drawing him close. Their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a profound connection that transcended words. This intimate gesture was a testament to their enduring bond, a friendship that, despite the trials and sorrows, remained unyielding and eternal.
“Bucky…there is absolutely nothing wrong with you”, Steve said firmly. “There was nothing wrong with you and there never will be”
“You don't know that”, he said, looking away from him as he tried to break free from Steve's embrace but he continued holding him.
“I do know that Bucky”, he said with a smile. “You being here with me right now proves to me that you truly are still that James Buchanan Barnes I have known my whole life and love to this day. I love you, Bucky”
“Do you truly love someone who’s been a killer?” Bucky's voice was heavy with mounting tension. “Can you honestly trust someone who hunted you down, who tried to kill you? How can you trust and…love someone who once tried to fucking kill you?” His words trembled with such anger and despair as the guilt was eating him up.
“Bucky, listen to me”, Steve said. “That man who did all those things wasn't you. It wasn't you who killed those people. It was Hydra who did that. They made you do it. Made you do it, buddy. It was never you. I know it. I saw it when your mask was taken off. When I saw you I knew…I knew that those things you've done weren't you and I had to do whatever I could to save you”, Steve smiled as he began playing with Bucky's locks. “I'm just glad I wasn't too late and I did save you…otherwise I'd still be lost in this new world”, he said with such truth and love to and for his friend.
Bucky kept his eyes fixed on the floor, squeezing them shut to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Steve's smile was gentle and filled with unwavering warmth. “You can still make things right, Bucky. You have a chance to turn it all around. You still have a chance”
“And what about all the innocent lives I’ve taken?” Bucky’s voice broke his tears on the brink of falling. “Did they get a chance, Rogers, hmm? Did I ever give them a fucking chance?” His words were laced with deep anger and overwhelming guilt as his eyes were starting to become aggressive.
Steve frowned. “Bucky…Hydra made you do it. They. Made. You. Do. It. You were controlled by them, Bucky. They forced you to do those things. It was never you. Those damn cowards made you do it, do you understand? They are the ones to blame, not you. They made you kill those people, do you hear me?”
Bucky shook his head, unable to hold back the tears any longer while trying to break free from Steve. Steve smiling, gently kissed his forehead and both cheeks, then pressed his forehead against Bucky's. “It wasn't you. And it wasn't your fault”
Bucky tried to pull away from the embrace but found himself unable to escape the warmth of Steve’s comforting presence. He felt the tall, impenetrable walls around his heart, walls he had vowed would keep everyone out. Yet, Steve had breached them effortlessly. Despite Bucky’s efforts to push Steve away, he remained steadfast, as he always had been. In the end, Steve had succeeded in dismantling those defenses, breaking down the walls Bucky had fought so hard to maintain. He drew a shuddering breath and managed a shaken chuckle, his head bowing once more as his hair cascaded to hide his face. A subtle, barely noticeable smile curved at his lips. “You are so fucking stubborn, Rogers”, he said in a soft trembling voice as he shook his head and chuckled weakly.
He smiled as he planted another kiss on his forehead.
“What is your name?” Bucky asked, with his head still bowed and shadows dancing around his face.
Steve’s fingers gently wove through Bucky’s brown hair. “Steve,” he answered softly yet clearly, ensuring he could hear. “Steve Grant Rogers”
“Steve,” he whispered, each syllable dragging as if the name itself were a lifeline slipping from his lips. “That name…It reminds me of someone I have known my whole life”
Steve smiled as he slowly pressed his forehead against his again. “Bucky…”
“He…was my friend…my family…and the biggest pain in the damn neck I have ever met…”, he softly said, letting out a teardrop. Steve smiled as he wiped the tears. Bucky chuckled again as more crystal rain fell from his eyes. “Heh, he still is a pain in the neck”
“I tried”, Steve said with a prideful smirk.
Bucky shook his head and grinned. “Heh, the hell you did”
Steve gently kissed Bucky’s lips, and as he pulled back, Bucky's tears flowed freely. Slowly, Bucky leaned his head against Steve's chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He finally pulled his hand out of the wall, stained with blood and his metal hand, clutched Steve’s shirt tightly.
Steve smiled as he held him tight in his embrace. He knew he still had Bucky. And always have and will.
“Steve…I'm sorry about…earlier…those things…I said and…damn it…I'm sorry”, Bucky went full crying. “I'm so sorry”
“Shh...I love you”
Bucky clung to Steve, pressing his face firmly against his chest, drawing comfort from Steve's heart's steady, reassuring beat. He held him tighter, seeking refuge in the warmth and security of Steve’s embrace.
He still has a chance to make things right, and having Steve by his side, he can try to make things right.
“I'll try, Steve...I promise. I'll try...I... I promise...I'll try”
“I know you will, buddy. I know you will”