On, Wisconsin!

You crawl out of the boat and Bucky follows, tying the rope through a metal loop on the side of the dock. Steve pulls up and parks the car just as you and Bucky finish your trek up the stairs. Steve rounds the car, and stops, sliding his sunglasses to the top of his hand and resting his hands on his hips.

“Looks like you two had some fun without me,” Steve chimes with a playful smirk on his face.

“Sorry, Stevie,” Bucky chuckles. “Just couldn’t wait to take the paddle boat out for a spin. It was a wild time.” He nudges your arm. “Right, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Steve,” you shift your attention to him, trying to ignore the electric heat from where Bucky had nudged you. “Do you need help carrying the bags?”

“Sure, that’d be great,” he beams and walks to the rear of the car.

After the food was sorted and put away, you throw two pizzas into the oven for dinner. Together, Bucky and Steve consume nearly both pizzas, managing to leave you a few slices. Once dinner was cleaned up, you all headed outside to the fire pit. The pit is a wall of stones arranged in a circle around a hole in the ground. It’s enclosed by 4 chairs, and a pile of wood sits a few feet away on an old rack.

Bucky gets the fire going, and Steve walks out from the side door of the cabin with three cold beers, the supplies needed for s’mores, your hoodie, and some blankets. He tosses you a beer, the hoodie, and a blanket. You thank him with a quick, flashy smile. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the temperature had dropped quickly, rendering your shorts and t-shirt useless in keeping you warm. Bucky wraps a blanket around his shoulders and takes a seat next to you, sinking into the chair. He cracks open his beer and takes a swig, Steve doing the same. You laugh, mostly to yourself.

Bucky cocks an eyebrow. “What’s so funny, doll?”

You crack open your beer and watch some wisps of compressed air float out into the clear night. “I just think it’s kinda funny that you two can’t get really even get drunk, yet you still drink this stuff.” You raise your can into the air and slightly shake it, its contents sloshing inside.

Bucky and Steve share a quick glance. Steve turns back to you.

“We like the taste,” he shrugs, his bottom lip twitches as he tries to hold back a smile. Bucky nods with a goofy grin, taking another swig.

Three s’mores, two cans of beer, and a heated debate as to why burnt marshmallows are better than golden ones later, Steve hauls himself out of his chair, stretches towards the starry sky, and waves a sleepy “good night” to you and Bucky.

Now it’s just Bucky and the chorus of crickets to keep you company. Nothing is said between you two for a few long moments.

“Today was…fun,” he says hesitantly, slowly nodding his head as he shoots a smile in your direction.

“Yeah, it was,” you return the smile. The can of beer in your hand was now lukewarm. It was your third can, and you were starting to feel a slight buzz tingle in your head.

Bucky clears his throat. “So…what’s your story?”

“What do you mean?” You shoot him a questioning look. You very well knew what he meant, but you never really had anyone so blatantly ask about your past before. You had thought everyone on the team had already read your files. It’s not like you wanted everyone to know every single thing about you, but you couldn’t exactly stop them.

They had acquired your information from an abandoned HYDRA base a few months before the Avengers got a hit on your location. Before that, you had managed to escape from the clutches of HYDRA and stay on the down low, and look how far that got you. You’re happier than you’ve been in years with the team, but you still can never escape your past, no matter how hard you try.

“Didn’t you read my files when they first brought me in?”

Bucky brings another beer to his lips - it’s his sixth one, and he still doesn’t show signs of intoxication. He shakes his head. “Never had the chance.”

“Well,” you sigh, fiddling with the can between your clammy hands. “What do you wanna know?”

“What do you want to tell me?” His eyes reflect the flickering light from the fire.

Rustling in the trees caught both of your attentions. Black bears were known to be around these parts, but you really hoped that whatever was in the woods was not a bear. Please, please don’t be a -

A small black bear cub waddles out of the trees and into the clearing right beside the cabin.

“Bucky,” you say slowly in a low, flat voice. “Don’t. Move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he mumbles back. Your heart begins to beat faster.

“Listen to what I say, and don’t fuck up,” you tell him, not letting your gaze falter from the curious cub. “I want you to stand, slowly, when I tell you to, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay, ready?” You slowly move your arms to the sides of your chair. “Go.” You take your time and slowly push up from your seat, and see Bucky do the same out of the corner of your eye. The cub had wandered a few feet closer, his snout in the air as he sniffs the different scents around him.

“Now what?” Bucky hisses through his teeth.

“We’re going to slowly walk back to the side door of the cabin,” you nod to your right. The side door was about fifteen feet away, the only problem was that the cub stood only a few feet away from it. But the only other door was on the front of the house, and you couldn’t be sure there were more bears. “Don’t take your eyes off the cub.”

“Do we have to go through the side door? I mean, can’t we just run to the other -”

More rustling breaks into the silence. Oh, shit, please no.

“Bucky, we have to go. Now,” you warn. You start to side-step around the fire, your heart racing in your chest. The cub doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to you, until you hear a twig snap behind you. You stop moving as the cub snaps his head towards you and Bucky.

“Bucky,” you hiss. “Did you just -”

A larger bear pokes out from the forest, its black, beady eyes landing on you.

You look at the distance between you and the door, and impulsively decide that at this point, you might just have to run it.

“Buck, when I say ‘go’,” you breathe. “Run.”

The cub turns its head towards the larger bear and takes a few steps in the opposite direction of where you and Bucky are hovering.

“Go!”

It only takes a few seconds for you and Bucky to bolt through the door. He slams it behind it, you, both of you breathing heavily as you try to lower your heart rate.

“Well,” he pants. “That was horrifying.”

“No shit,” you mumble. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in the shower.”

“Hey,” Bucky gently grabs your wrist as you turn to walk away. “Are we, uh…going to pick up from where we left off in that conversation?”

“I…I’m not sure, Buck. Maybe. You could’ve just read my files.” He lets go of your wrist.

“I didn’t want to read your files,” his voice is so quiet, you can barely hear him. “I wasn’t interested in reading what they had to say about you, I wanted to hear what you have to say. I didn’t need some files to tell me what I should know about you, i-it just didn’t seem fair. Because trust me,” he takes a step closer. “I know what it feels like having your whole life and dirty secrets spread across a table, and I know it’s not exactly fun.”

“B-Bucky, I…,” you’re at a complete loss for words. How could he care so much about me before even meeting me? “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, doll.”

You nod, then walk through the living room and grab your bag to head to the bathroom. After a nice, hot shower, you change into shorts and a t-shirt, then pad back out to your bed. The curtains were pulled, and you assumed Bucky was already in bed. You pull back the cloth and see Bucky standing in nothing but his boxers, holding a shirt in his hands, next to the bed.

“Ya know, a picture would last much longer, darlin’,” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and ignore the flicker of warmth in your stomach. Throwing back the heavy quilt, you climb into the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You feel the bed dip under Bucky’s added weight. His body heat quickly spreads under the blankets, sending a calming sensation flooding down you.

“G’night, doll,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Night, Buck,” you whisper. Just as you begin to drift off into a deep, much-needed sleep, the blankets are ripped from your hands, exposing you to the chilly night air hanging around you.

“Are you shitting me,” you groaned groggily. “I’m going to kill you, Bucky.”

A light chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“Do your worst.”

You were running through a forest. The sounds of fighting and gunshots erupting behind you getting closer by the second. Your lungs burned like they never have before as you push yourself to pump your arms harder, trying to gain more speed to carry yourself away from the fighting. Snow covers the ground, making it hard to see the large roots of trees. The path looks clear, but out of nowhere, a new root tears up out of the ground. You don’t have even time to react, and your boot catches on the root, sending you tumbling. Fresh bruises from the frozen ground, rocks, and roots puncturing your skin begin to blossom on your arms, ribs, and legs. The pain pulses through your right side, and as you roll over onto your back, a heavy boot comes stomping down onto your chest, pinning you in place. You squint your eyes at them, the sunlight blinding you through the naked trees.

The end of a handgun is aimed at the area right between your eyes. The person holding you down wears a mask and brings a gloved hand up to their face. Pressing a button on the side of their face, the mask falls to the ground. You can feel your eyes widen as fear ransacks your body.

Your own eyes stare back at you. The person keeping you captive at gunpoint is you. A wicked, evil grin spreads up your face, but it’s not your face, it’s the face of the old you. The you that destroyed families, took lives, and did anything you had to just to complete a mission…The you that you were trying to leave behind in the dust.

“Can’t take what you dish out, Y/N?” The boot presses down into your chest harder, their finger moving to the trigger.

“NO!”

A shot rings out.

You jolt straight up, gasping for air, your chest tight in pure horror, and vision blind with fear.

“Y/N?” A dull, distant voice reaches your ears. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you hear me?”

Blinking back tears, you can feel your hands shaking, clutching the fabric of your shirt. The details of your surroundings start to come into focus. As your mind calms down, you begin to see the outlines of a room. 

“C’mon, doll,” the voice floats by again, but louder this time. “Come back to us. Can you tell me five things you can see?”

“A w-wall,” your voice doesn’t even sound like yours. It’s as if it’s become detached from your body. “A door, t-the table, w-with chairs, a-and a man.”

“Good job, darlin’. Now how about four things you can touch?”

“M-my shirt, the b-blanket,” you somehow pry your hand from your chest, placing it beside you, searching for anything you could feel. “S-something cold, a-and metal, and m-my skin.” More of your vision clears, and the faint sound of something buzzing far away carries into your surroundings.

“You’re doing great, Y/N. I need you to tell me three things you can hear. Do you think you can do that for me?”

You nod, closing your eyes tight, bringing your head to your chest to try and stop your body from shaking so much.

“Y-Your voice, a buzzing, a-and…crickets.” You can feel your heart rate slow to a less frantic level.

“You’re almost there, love. How about two things you can smell?” The voice sounds more familiar, almost like…Bucky’s.

“I-I smell something heavy, l-like the earth, and something else that smells like…home.”

“I just need one more thing from you. Can you tell me one thing you taste?”

You open your eyes, gaze cast downwards. Bucky’s metal hand is covering yours. Slowly lifting your head, you meet the gaze of a nervous-and-worried-faced Steve standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed, one hand brought to his mouth. The room is dimly lit by a lamp near the table across the room, a fan blowing air around the room in slow, rhythmic turns next to it. Turning your head, you see Bucky’s face. He’s so close to you, but his stare is intense, tainted with worry, and something lighter. Was it…hope?

“Tears,” your voice faint. “I…I taste tears.”

A small smile tugs at Bucky’s lips. “Welcome back, doll.”