He had vivid flashbacks of her. He couldn’t remember her name, but the ecstasy that coursed through his veins at the mere thought of her was enough for him to realize that she was important. Important to him.
“Oh my god!” She shrieked.
The sky had just opened up and poured down a very heavy rain.
She searched their surroundings for some sort of shelter, but broke out into laughter as she noticed their only hope were a few trees and a broken down gazebo. She grabbed his hand and ran towards the crumbling structure. Electricity shot through his arm as her skin made contact with his.
They made it to the makeshift shelter as the rain came down harder. She giggled at their current situation as her body let out a shiver. Bucky stripped himself of the leather jacket he was wearing and draped it around her shoulders. He sat down and put his arm around her shivering form, hoping to emit enough body heat for the two of them.
“Now, how many first dates can you say have been this eventful?” He joked, nudging her.
A wide grin graced her features.
“I’ll admit, not that many. This has been quite the rollercoaster.” Bucky smiled and hugged her closer, kissing the top of her head.
He approached the small living space that he had once called his own. She was inside, of that he was certain. There was a faint sound of music coming through the front door. She was probably either cooking or cleaning. She always had to have music playing or some sort of sound on. She’d go mad, otherwise.
The slight squeaking of a door caught Bucky’s attention and brought him out of his light slumber. He took in his surroundings and made note of only the thin sheet covering the lower half of his body. His heart fluttered as he recalled the events of the night before, which resulted in his girl falling asleep, pressed against his chest. Said girl was the reason for his awakening. She had tried to carefully and quietly open the bedroom door with what looked like a spray bottle and rag in her hands. He rolled over and took in the sight of her appearance: messed up hair, pajama shorts, and his button-up shirt, which was poorly fastened.
“I don’t remember asking for room service this morning,” he grumbled, his voice still gravelly from his slumber.
She jumped nearly three feet in the air.
“Bucky, you ass! You scared me! I thought you were still asleep.” He grinned and stretched, letting out a not-so-graceful groan in the process.
He sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
“Well, I was, until I was rudely awoken,” he joked, rolling out of bed and pulling on some sweatpants.
He walked over to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her waist. He placed a singular kiss on the back of her neck. He craned his neck and rested his head on the back of her shoulders. She reached around and threaded her fingers through his hair.
“What are you doing, anyways? It’s Saturday.”
She sighed.
“I woke up and I was going to take a quick shower, but the shower was kinda gross, so I cleaned it. And then the mirror was also kind of gross so I cleaned that, and I was going to-“
Bucky cut her off by spinning her to face him and placing a chaste kiss on her lips. She looked up at him with a hint of confusion on her face.
“It’s Saturday, there’s no working today. You work too hard as it is,” he said, taking the cleaning supplies out of her grasp and placing them on the nightstand.
He slid his hands from her shoulders to her hands and guided her back to the bed.
He reached for the doorknob but abruptly stopped, knowing his mechanical arm was louder than the other. It’s been so long. Too long. Will she have forgotten? Will she have moved on? He tiptoed around the apartment, looking for any sign of her or other inhabitants that might be here. There were still pictures of the two of them together, right where they used to be on the fireplace mantel. There were a few of them, but he had a favorite. Bucky’s favorite was the two of them at an old friend’s Christmas party. She was sitting in his lap and his arms were around her waist. They both had on horrendous Christmas sweaters. He smiled at the memory of the photo and almost got lost in thought when the sound of dishes clashing together caught his attention.
His eyes darted towards the small kitchen entrance as he saw a stray piece of silverware slide across the floor. He swiftly made his way over to that wall to avoid being seen by her as she reached to pick it up. After a moment or two had passed, he peeked around the corner, trying to gauge where she was. She was standing at the sink, washing dishes and humming to herself.
She had no idea he was here.
He wanted so badly to call out her name and get her attention. He had missed her so much, it almost physically hurt him. Before he could think about what he was doing, he quietly walked into the kitchen until he was just inches behind her. Being this close to her, he took in her scent. He almost let out a pleased sigh.
Slowly and hesitantly, he bent down and placed his forehead on the back of her shoulders, just like he used to do. She tensed up and let out a shrill squeak at the unexpected contact. She almost turned to see who the intruder was, but his voice stopped her.
“Please don’t. Please don’t turn around.”
His voice broke as he pleaded. He made a mistake. He didn’t want his girl to see him like this; to see him like a broken man. Man. If he could even use that word to describe himself anymore. She gasped at the sound of his voice.
“Bucky?”
He let out a shaky breath and clutched the fabric on the back of her shirt. He nodded and repeated his previous statement.
“Please don’t turn around. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
He wanted to scream and cry. He wanted to call out her name but he couldn’t remember. He just knew that the adrenaline that coursed through his veins at the thought of her felt good, and he wanted more of it. The flashbacks of her made it clear she was important to him.
“Bucky, I don’t understand. What’s going on? See you like what?” She begged.
He didn’t know how long he’d been gone. He barely knew what year it was. Who knows how long it could’ve been since the last time he had seen her? A few months? A year? A few years? He was scared that she had seen the newspapers. Maybe something about the Winter Soldier reared its ugly head into the media. Bucky could rarely get his hands on newspapers and magazines, so he was probably missing a whole plethora of breaking news. The thoughts stopped as he was brought back to reality, as the woman in his arms tried to wriggle around. His grip tightened on her, not enough to cause pain or any discomfort, but enough to stop her movements.
“I.. I don’t know how long I’ve been g-gone… I don’t know what you know about me being taken…” he started, fumbling over a few words.
He barely remembered the memories himself. There was a brief burst of a memory that clouded his vision.
Bucky knew he’d been on the run from Hydra for a while. It had been a few years since they’d found him last. He’d been able to hang onto what few memories he had and could still recall for a few years, and for that, he was proud of himself. He had grown more paranoid and suspicious lately, looking over his shoulder at every opportunity, and his nightmares had become seemingly worse and more violent. It had gotten to the point where he would crawl out of bed at odd hours of the night and curl up on the couch in the living room, fearful of disturbing the sleeping woman next to him. He was also mortified that he would accidentally hurt her in the process of his night terrors. She would eventually wake up at an early hour due to the lack of warmth next to her and wedge herself between the cushions and the man knocked out on the sofa.
---
He was walking down a dark alley, just getting off of work for the night. It was roughly nine or ten o’clock at night, so the sun had set a while ago. His senses had been screwed up all day at work, and he couldn’t figure out why. The simplest sound of a heavy tool dropping to the floor had him spinning on his heels, trying to assess the possible threat. Now, as he maneuvered through the narrow passageway towards his shabby little apartment, he felt that someone was watching him. He just about made it to the end of the alley before a force knocked him against a cold, damp wall.
The collision of his skull and the brick wall made him see stars for a moment, but once his vision cleared, he saw a man that looked familiar, but he couldn’t get a good look at him. Every time he tried to see the man’s face, a throbbing pain in his head would strike. There was a bigger man holding him against the wall, disabling any way he had of escaping.
The smaller man opened his mouth to speak.
“Privet, soldat.”
“Bucky,” she started.
She didn’t know where to begin.
“What happened? I thought you… I thought you left me. I didn’t hear a word from you for so long.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the broken feelings she must’ve felt. He couldn’t tell her. There’s no way he would jeopardize her safety like that.
“I can’t tell you everything. I can’t risk your safety like that. I was… I was taken. By some very evil people. And they…” he stopped.
How far did he want to go with this? In his moment of distraction, she spun around in his arms and got a good look at him for the first time in years. He looked tired, beaten, and drained. She put her hands on his shoulders and made her way down his arms- well, arm. Bucky flinched at the human contact. This was the first time in a very long time that anyone had placed their hands on him in a manner that didn’t resolve into some sort of punishment. She traced her fingers over the long glove that covered his metal prosthetic.
“They did this to you.”
It came out as more of a statement than a question. He nodded. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, hold him as tightly as she could and never let go, but she didn’t want to scare him. His startled reaction to her touch was enough to know that he’d been tortured and abused. She didn’t know all the details and probably never would, but she wanted to try her hardest to make sure she didn’t cross any boundaries in such a fragile state.
She gently placed her hands on both sides of his face and rested her forehead against his. Her breathing staggered as she attempted to hold back the freight train of emotions in her chest.
“Bucky… I don’t know what they did to you but-“
He cut her off before she could finish her sentence.
“They tried to take everything from me. My freewill, my a-arm… my…” he paused, ducking his head down out of her view.
She caressed his face to further assure him.
“They took so many of my memories.”
The sound of his voice cracking broke her heart. She pushed a few loose strands of chin-length brunette hair out of his face and brushed a rolling tear away. The face she looked at was one of a broken man, who had everything ripped from him. His face was unmoving as she searched his eyes for something, anything. She chose her next words carefully.
“I’ll never know what they did to you entirely, but you came back to me, James. And that means everything to me. I love you.”
Traumatized or not, that was the last straw. Bucky pulled his girl into a hug that could only be described as desperate and damn-near bone crushing. He placed his hand on the back of her head and held her as close to him as he could. He then buried his face into her hair, taking in the familiar scent he’d come to know and love. He never thought he’d be able to see her again and be this close to her. He mumbled into her shoulder something along the lines of I missed you so much. After being glued to each other for who knows how long, Bucky let go of her just enough to place a delicate kiss on her lips.