Lucky

Humidity sticks to the skin of the three people sitting in the hallway awaiting Bucky’s release from cyro, the time of heat that feels as if your eyeballs are melting to join the thickness of the air. Steve is pacing the hallway just outside the hospital room where Bucky was brought to, keeping his eyes on Wakanda through the glass wall.

“If you pace fast enough maybe you can create a draft for us. That would be nice,” Sam chuckles in attempt to ease the stress in Steve’s shoulders. A look of pure irritation is shot back at him, the famous Dad eyebrows and all.

“That’s hilarious, Sam. It’s been three years since he’s been in the world. Three years since the fight. I can’t help being nervous,” Steve says. I give him a look of concern but quickly turn back to the strand of hair I’ve been playing with for the past ten minutes as I sit in a chair leaning against the wall next to the door of Bucky’s room, trying to blend into the wall. Steve’s head snaps up as soon as the door cracks open and reveals a Wakandian nurse.

“How is he?” The words tumble out of Steve’s mouth almost faster than he can say them.

“Bucky is out of cyro, but he is still asleep. He should wake up in a few minutes. I figured you would want to be in there when he does,” The nurse gestures towards the room, “Maybe make him more at ease?” To which Steve replies with a tense nod.

Sam moves to lean against the glass wall, “I’m going to stay out here man, Bucky doesn’t seem like the type of dude to be sunshine and rainbows after a fridge nap. If you need me though, just holler.”
Steve looks to me, “Coming?” I can feel the words sticking in my throat as my cheeks heat up revealing my nervous energy before I speak.

“He doesn’t know me at all, for now at least. I might freak him out,” My feet uncross and cross in the chair, feeling ridiculously uncomfortable.

“Bucky is going to have to get used to you regardless, you’re helping his recovery,” Steve argues as he reaches for the door handle and I nod in defeat. If Steve wasn’t so well controlled, I can tell he’d be shaking by now. He takes the seat closest to Bucky’s bedside while I lean against the wall of the entrance. Bucky is slightly too pale, his long hair draped on his shoulders. A white tank top adorns his chest, contrasting his left arm which is now fitted with Wakandian technology; black, vibranium, and sleek.

After what seems like years, Bucky’s eyes begin to flutter. “Steve?” The rough voice whispers.

“Yeah it’s me Buck,” Steve replies, just as quiet, like if he spoke any louder Bucky would just disappear. I fidget against the wall, feeling the crushing weight of I should not be here press against my chest. Bucky’s tired eyes examine his best friend’s features for a while. I recognize the calculating look because I’ve used it countless times. He’s trying to determine if Steve is real, if any of this is real.
Steve absentmindedly bites his nails, “How do you feel?”

“Okay. Did you-Can you take the Winter Solider out of me? You promised not to wake me up if you didn’t” Bucky rambles, the heart monitor beeping slightly louder with his rise in anxiety.

Steve nods quickly to try and reassure him, “Yeah we did Buck, we finally have the tools to wipe the programming and help gain memories back. It won’t be the easiest process but it can be done. Uh, Lucy here will be the main person helping with you recovery along with Shuri and her technology.”

The cool gaze of Bucky meets mine and his eyebrow raises a little. “How is she going to help?” He asks.

“I uh- let’s just say I specialize in memory loss and programming from evil regimes,” I say, my joking tone lost in a voice crack. My heart is thudding in my chest at a rate that shouldn’t be humanly possible. It’s taking every ounce of strength in me not to run as far away from this medical room as I can.

“You can make me Bucky again?’ He raises his eyebrow even further. Great, another infamous eyebrow I’m going to have to name.

“You’re already you; it’s just buried a little. You’ll recover Bucky, I’ll do everything within my power to insure that,” I reply and his shoulders relax slightly.

After a bit of silence Bucky shifts towards Steve, “Can I have some water?”

“I can handle that,” I cut in before Steve has a chance to respond.

“Uh Lucy, manually please. It might freak Bucky out if you, you know,” Steve gestures in the air.

I laugh, “Oh come on Rogers, I know that.” Steve shoots me a smile but, Bucky looks confused.

“Manually? How else would she get it?” Bucky asks. I look to Steve who just shrugs in response. I quickly calculate all the responses he could have to my powers. Oh well, I might as well rip this Band-Aid off sooner rather than later.

“Do you promise, to the best of your ability, to stay clam?” I ask him. Bucky takes a moment to respond but eventually nods. “Cup, please.” I tell Steve and he holds out a paper cup in front of him. My palm twists in the direction of the cup, my fingertips angled the right way. A stream of water is the released from my hand, snaking around my fingers and landing in the cup. Once the cup is full I turn my attention to Bucky.

His eyes are wide and body tense, “How-What the hell, how did you do that?’ Bucky sputters, breathing slightly uneven.

“I wield all four elements: fire, water, earth and air,” I reply to which his eyes grow impossibly wider as he takes the cup of water from Steve which he drinks in two long gulps.

“Must be handy, you never have to worry about dehydration or hunger,” He comments and I smile at him.
I’ve never been too keen on discussing my powers, as it reminds me of the memories of getting them but this is part of recovery. “I’ll leave you two to, um, catch up? If that’s what super soldiers do these days,” I say, making my way to the door with a wink.

“Thanks for the drink. I look forward to you getting this shit out of me,” Bucky says.

“As do I.”

I’m sitting in one of the training rooms, my mind wandering to every place imaginable rather than paying attention to what Clint is trying to explain to me.

“Did you catch any of what I just said?” Clint asks. I let my body deflate, as I breathe out air I didn’t even realize I was holding. “You’re stressed about Bucky. Do you want to talk about it?” Clint sits next to me.
“I know what I’m doing for the recovery part. I’m well versed in the technology, in the program but, Bucky. Clint, I knew him as the Winter Solider and he knew me. I mean obviously he doesn’t remember me now but what happens when he does? Will he hate me? Will it stump his recovery?” I ramble on, “I can’t do that to Steve, and he’s been through too much already.

Clint sighs and sets his bow and arrow next to him. “Look, no one said this thing was going to be anywhere near easy, especially after the fight with Tony. Regardless, whether you do the treatment or not, Bucky is going to recover and remember you. So suck it up buttercup. You can do it,” Clint tells me with a fatherly pat on my back.

“Encouragement at its finest,” I teasingly bump his shoulder.

“Motivational speaking is my daytime job. Now let’s get back to weapons training,” He says and pulls me to my feet.

I let out a groan at the movement, “You know, I can literally wield fire and I trained with Hydra for almost my entire life, yet all of you insist on training me with guns.”

“Nothing ever makes sense. Just get in stance,” Clint laughs.

I begrudgingly get up and grab one of the guns from the table next to him. I wince at the cool metal of the gun but get into stance anyways. The paper human silhouettes are across the room, along with several obstacles throughout the training room.

“Okay, I’m going to start Luc!’ Clint yells and the silhouettes begin to move quickly. I shoot once. Bounce to shoot again and again, the bullets flying from the chamber as I zigzag across the course. “Distractions!” He yells once more from where he is standing. I am reloading when suddenly my feet are swept from underneath me.

“Scott, I will step on you,” I say as the tiny figure scampers away from me. I shoot twice more before I spot the ant sprinting towards me out of the corner of my eye. Sidestepping and shooting at the same time, he grabs the side of my ankle and I fall on my ass. A groan of frustration leaves my chest and I toss the gun away from me like a toddler.

“Lucy, come on, you’re improving!” Clint tries to encourage me. I turn to glare at him, the heat of my anger growing in my hands and snaking up my wrists to which I receive in my favorite gesture of surrender.

Suddenly Scott is full size and standing next to me, “You saw me this time! Way better than yesterday!”

“Not bad, but I didn’t think you would need a gun,” A new voice joins us. Standing up I see Bucky and Steve in the doorway of the training room.

“That was exactly my argument,” I reply and Bucky gives me a small amused smile.

“I was just giving Bucky the tour, we didn’t mean to interrupt. Although, it was kind of funny to watch you fall Luc,” Steve grins at me.

I roll my eyes, “Wow thanks Steven. I’ll remember that next time you want me to make you a sandwich,” I turn my attention to Bucky, “Since we’re so close to your first treatment, do you just want to start now?” He shrugs in response. Walking to the two men I gesture for them to leave the doorway. “Later Clint, Later Scott. Maybe you guys can come up with an effective training program in my absence,” I wink.

The three of us are walking through the long hallway to the medical wing of the seemingly never-ending glass building. “Um, Steve, as much as I appreciate everything you do, I should probably do the first session alone. It’s grueling,” I say as we enter the viewing room that hangs over the room Bucky and I will be doing our sessions in. Steve looks like he wants to argue with me but I interrupt him before he gets the chance, “You can stay in the viewing room if that makes you more comfortable.” And he nods in defeat.

I gesture for Bucky to follow me into the downstairs room. It’s all white, with a chair and sofa in the middle of the marble floor. There is a heart monitor resting next to the sofa, along with a nurse.
“Alright Bucky, you’re going to have to take off your shirt so we can monitor your heart rate. If it gets too high, we’ll stop and take a break. I’m going to inject you with a serum that Shuri developed to dissolve the neural connections that allow you to become the Winter Solider. Do you understand,” I recite as if I’m reading a textbook. I cannot allow my emotions to cloud Bucky’s recovery, no matter what toll they take on me.

“Yeah Lucy, you don’t have to talk to me like I’m five,” Bucky says, a mixture of bitter and amusement. Always so hard to read.

I glance at him, trying to compose the fiery emotions sparking in my chest. “It’s a habit. I tend to sound like a robot when I’m controlling myself,” I say.

Confusion flies across for a moment but leaves as quickly as it came. He’s probably too eager to get rid of the fragments of the Winter Solider left in his brain. Bucky removes his black shirt and takes a seat on the edge of the sofa. My eyes unintentionally scan the scars near his left arm, a fleeting memory of wiping the Winter Solider runs through my mind. I try to shake the thoughts away as I take a deep breath. The nurse attaches both heart and brain monitors to Bucky’s skin.
I hold out my hand, “Your right arm please.” Gingerly running my fingers across his skin I locate a decent vein. The large needle pierces through the skin without a flinch from Bucky as the silvery white liquid enters his bloodstream. I find myself shaking as I remove the needle, with a questioning look from him.

“I don’t like needles.”

“I don’t either,” He whispers, sagging against the soda as the effects of the serum begin to take place.

“I’m going to ask questions or say words to trigger memories so I can assess how much you know before I start removing things,” I say, “Howling Commandos.”

Bucky’s eyes flutter close. It’s silent for a few beats and then they fly back open. “I saw all of them in the museum. I was the sniper; Steve would always give away my locations. It was infuriating,” Bucky cautiously says. I nod, writing down what he said in my notebook.

“That’s great anything else?” I ask.

“Steve kept a photo of a girl in his compass,” Bucky’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to remember the name of the woman, “Fuck I can’t remember her name!” I jump at the sudden yelling. He goes back to thinking for so long I begin doodling.

“She was at Steve’s training camp, um, she wore red lipstick. PEGGY!” He gives a little smirk, “She wouldn’t dance with me because she was so in love with Steve.”

“What’s not to love,” I reply, a similar smirk on my own face. I glance at his heart and brain monitors, taking note of the data. “Okay, let’s try something that may be more upsetting. Zola.”

Every muscle in Bucky’s body tenses up, the heart monitor begins to rise.

“Breathe Bucky, try to pick through the memories as slowly as you can. Remember that you’re safe,” I whisper apprehensively, the familiar pang hits my heart as I see the physical and mental pain he is going through.

“He put the arm on me. Tested on me the first time Hydra captured me? He said I would be their greatest weapon,” He chokes out with white knuckles gripping the edge of the soda.

“Correct. You’re doing well for your first time. Now-"

“Zola was underneath Schmidt. He wiped me, so many times. The screaming,” Bucky’s voices breaking off as the tears begin to pour down his face.

My heart is beating a mile a minute in my chest as I try to find the words to comfort the crying man in front of me, “Hey, hey you’re okay. It’s okay,” I went forward to touch his shoulder. He flinched away at a blinding rate.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to people comforting me,” He sags even further into the couch, trying to hide the shame in his hands.

I offer him a small smile, “It’s fine Bucky, you’re allowed to have all the boundaries you want. Now, Shuri is going to take you into a type of surgery. I’m not all that great with the science stuff but she’ll explain in further detail because she’s a genius. Basically, she’s going to disable the nerve memory with your trigger words so that you can never be turned back into the Winter Solider.”

“Are you, is this, are you fucking with me?” Bucky says.

“I’m afraid she is not Mr. Barnes, I’m here to take you right now actually,” Shuri says from the doorway of the room.

His mouth turns down in disgust at the formality, “Please call me Bucky, you’re making me sound old.”

“You’re like 99 years old.”

“That’s not the point. So, do I follow you now?” He asks the girl to which she nods in reply.

Bucky gives me one last look, “Thank you Lucy. I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

“Good lucky, Bucky. You’re in good hands,” I reply.
The two walk off to put the former assassin’s jumbled brain a little more at ease and the thought of him not having to worry about the effect of the trigger words I’ve had to hear drilled into him puts me a little more at ease, too.