It was kind of Sam to let him sleep on the couch overnight. He had just stopped by to drop off his new and improved wings but who was he to argue against staying in a hotel. And besides, Sam’s family was nice, comforting even. He couldn’t remember the last time he was around a family like this, it made him nostalgic. Nostalgic for warm Brooklyn summers spent running around with his sisters and playfully bantering with Steve. Nostalgic for times before the world, more specifically his world, went to hell.
It was late at night when the excitement finally died down and Sam’s nephews went to bed. Bucky was left sitting awkwardly at the dining table with Sam and his sister Sarah. The children had kept the tension from boiling over, but now that the distraction was gone Bucky didn’t know what to say.
“So uh, Sarah, thanks again for letting me stay here tonight.” Bucky spoke up shyly with a small smile on his face. He never used to be so bashful, back in his day he’d be flirting up a storm with the beautiful woman.
“There is no need to thank me, Bucky. It may only be a couch but it’s leagues better than any hotels near here. Help yourself to any drinks or food in the fridge, I best be off to bed. Goodnight boys.” Sarah smiled at him then walked off into the back of the house. Bucky turned towards Sam who was staring into the last few drops of his beer, obviously tuckered out after a long day working on his boat.
Sam knocked back his beer and stood, “Right, well, goodnight man. If you need anything don’t bother me about it.” He joked, throwing his empty bottle away and stalked off in the same direction Sarah went.
The house was suddenly more quiet than it had been all day. Bucky still sat at the kitchen table, passing his own beer between his hands before standing and heading to the couch. He laid hesitantly across the length of the sofa and stared at the ceiling, reflecting on the past few weeks. He had been working on reintegrating with society as a civilian, trying to stray away from things that could bring up bad memories, like violence. With the emergence of this Flag Smasher group, it was all for nought. Suddenly he was back in the field, fighting. Sure it was for a good cause but violence is violence.
He knew that breaking Zemo out wasn’t a good idea but he had information that was invaluable to them, knowledge about the super-soldier serum used to enhance the resistance group (terrorists? He wasn’t sure). Regardless, seeing the man who had once controlled him wasn’t fun. It especially wasn’t fun when he had to play into his former role as the Winter Soldier in Madripoor. Bucky never wanted to be ordered around again. And if he could help it, he wouldn’t be.
With that thought Bucky huffed, closed his eyes, and did his best to go to sleep.
~~~
There was a hand on his shoulder, his left shoulder. His right hand seemed to be caught in something, held in place. Restraints. He was being restrained and someone was touching his metal arm. Bucky steeled himself and opened his eyes. Dark metal beams crisscrossed across the roof, the room seemed to extend significantly in every direction. He was in a warehouse.
A woman in a light dress (lab coat?) stood at his side, touching his left arm. Holding him down. His right hand was restrained as well. Bile rose in his throat, there was a symbol on the woman’s dress that he could never forget, an octopus-like creature with a skull. He was back. He shouldn’t be here. Why is he here?! He was at Sam’s, oh god, Sam’s family was there. Sarah and the kids were just rooms away.
Sam would have heard the commotion of the agents breaking into the house, he wouldn’t have let them take Bucky quietly. If Bucky was here with Hydra then Sam… Sam must have failed in his attempt to stop them.
The Wilson home wasn’t large. Sarah and the children would have heard as well, and Hydra doesn’t like witnesses.
Rage built in his chest alongside the nausea. Him he could understand. He was The Asset, Hydra (or rather what remained of Hydra) coming after him was no surprise. But the Wilson’s are, were, innocent. They didn’t deserve to meet the fate doled out to them.
“Bucky? Bucky can you hear me?” The woman spoke, touching his arm again. Bucky strained against the bindings holding him to the table.
“Hey, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” She assuaged. He didn’t believe her. His right arm broke free and swung out at her. She leaped back with a yelp. He pulled his vibranium arm free and stood unsteadily. The woman backed away slowly, her hands out in front of her like he was an afraid animal cowered into a corner. He stalked after her.
“Why did you hurt them,” he growled. “They were innocent.” He hadn’t known Sarah and the kids for long but he liked them. They deserved better than to die at the hands of Hydra.
“Hurt who? No one is hurt, Bucky.” The woman spoke softly, seemingly with care. “Here, sit back down and I’ll get you some tea then we can talk about who you think was hurt.” She slowly moved towards a doorway, staring at him cautiously the entire time. He surged forward, grabbing her by the collar of her dress and shoving her against the wall.
“Why? Why them?” He spoke. “I understand me but-“
“BUCKY, let go of her!” Sam yelled. Sam? Why was Sam here, he was at the house when Hydra attacked. If Bucky was here, with Hydra, then Sam was either injured or dead.
“Sam? How- how are you…?” Bucky was confused, Sam didn’t seem concerned to see him here. Hell Sam wasn’t even battle ready, he solely in a pair of pajama pants, standing in a Hydra facility like it was his living room.
Sam slowly walked towards them, he set his hand on Bucky’s and gentled pried his fingers from the woman’s collar.
“Hey man, let Sarah go, you had a nightmare. She tried to wake you up and well… you were still in it.” Sam carefully dropped Bucky’s arms and grabbed the woman- Sarah -and looked at her throat, there were no marks or bruises. He hugged her and walked her over to the couch, sitting her down and throwing a blanket over her shoulders. He turned back around towards Bucky and led him into another room. The Hydra facility seemed to bleed away before his eyes and became a kitchen, the Wilson’s kitchen: cereal boxes on top of the fridge, mail on the counter and all.
Bucky was exhausted. He slumped down into a chair at the circular dining table and set his head in his hands. Sam busied himself brewing coffee. The room was silent for a good few minutes before Sam set a mug down and sat next to him.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“I can’t believe I- God, is Sarah okay?” Bucky stared at his metal hand, not even glancing at the coffee sat in front of him.
“A bit shaken up but no physical wounds, she’s a tough one, she’ll be fine.”
“Fuck, I’ll leave right away. My flight is in a few hours anyway, I’ll go and you won’t have to worry about this happening again.” Bucky pushed his chair back and stood, he made to walk out to the couch but the doorway was blocked.
“Sit back down, mister.” Sarah spoke sternly. She walked over to grab her own cup of coffee and sat next to Bucky, across from Sam. “Look, Bucky, I don’t blame you for what happened in there. You didn’t hurt me, sure you spooked the hell outta me, but that’s all. You had a hell of a nightmare from the looks of it. I should have known better not to touch you, trust me I’ve had enough bad experiences waking Sam out of night terrors to know that that was the wrong thing to do. It’s only 5a.m. and I know for a fact that your flight isn’t until noon so you are gonna sit here, drink your coffee, and then help us repair the boat a bit further until Sam can drive you to the airport. You understand?”
Bucky stared at her, flabbergasted. “Uh, yes ma’am?”
Sarah smiled, “You can think of it as paying me back for throwing me against a wall.” Sarah grabbed her mug and walked out of the front door, “I’ll be on the porch, try not to wake the kids for at least another hour.”
The men watched her walk out then turned to each other with slightly intimidated expressions on their faces.
“Boy you are whipped.” Sam said with a laugh. Bucky tentatively smiled back at him as he shoved Sam’s shoulder. As the sun rose over Louisiana, the orange light filtered in through the window and past the curtains, painting the kitchen golden. Life is rough as hell but when you have friends to back you up it ain’t half bad.