His body shook and trembled from the cold, not just the room temperature but his mind too. They were making him forget, they were trying to at least. But he was having none of that, he had kept this up for years, repeating his name like it was a prayer and silently repeating Steve's (he had learned he would be punished if he spoke his name out loud, and the punishments were horrific).
Every day it was training and wiping and more training and more wiping. No matter how many times they tried he wouldn't forget, he couldn't... he couldn't.
"My name is James Buchanan Barnes,"
"Where are you?"
"Currently in captivity of you sick bastards."
There was a pause, then he was being beaten.
"You will never win, you will become the new face of Hydra,"
He didn't struggle, not physically, he sat back and let his 'handlers' punch and kick him brutally. But his mouth never stopped running. These people really picked a bad person to try and brainwash.
"No... Steve—"
"Wipe him."
"Steve will come, he'll find me—"
"Your friend is dead, James, we've been telling you this for five years."
Two large men were forcefully shoving him in the chair—God he hated that chair—and secured the restraints. No, no, he had to remember, he couldn't forget. He wouldn't give up until Steve came to rescue him like he did in the war, he always knew where to find him.
Steve, Steve, Steve...
-
Bucky woke up screaming, loud and pained as he clutched his head. He was still in the chair, he could feel the electricity pulsing in his veins and he screamed louder. His lungs burned at the lack of oxygen but he didn't care, they had him again, they were going to make him forget when he had only just remembered. Not again.
When he actually opened his eyes, he wasn't in the chair, he was in his bed at Stark Tower. His and Steve's bed, but the blond was no where to be found. This only seemed to bring more panic upon him, he couldn't believe what he saw, they could be messing with him again.
He slowly got up and detangled himself from the blankets, backing up into the nearest corner until he was wedged between the two walls. His knees gave out and he sank to the ground, curling in on himself while he sobbed into his knees.
"S... St-eve," Bucky cried, his grip on himself tightening.
A mechanical voice came from overhead, soft and gentle like a friend, "Sergeant Barnes? Would you like me to alert Captain Rogers of your mental instability?"
JARVIS. Bucky was okay with JARVIS. The AI was actually quite helpful and funny, he was a friend, Bucky was safe. He choked out a 'yes' and leaned his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths to try and will his tears to stop.
It was a few minutes before he heard the door crack open and a gentle, familiar voice speak in the darkness, "Bucky?"
He whimpered in reply, unable to find the words to say something. The light turned on and he shrunk further in on himself, clenching his eyes shut and he pleaded quietly, "No, no, no, make it go away, please stop, turn it off..."
Steve quickly turned the light back off, the moonlight provided him with enough light to see, anyways. He slowly made his way over to Bucky, who was a sobbing ball of emotion when he crouched down in front of him. He made sure to keep his movements slow so if the brunette decided to poke his head up, he could see exactly what was going on.
"Buck," He said softly. "Do you know where you are?"
"Th-they had me, wiped me, tr-tried to make me for-get, they had me, they had me," Bucky gasped in between sobs.
Steve wanted to throw his arms around the other man and tell him he was safe, but he didn't want to panic him more. "Oh no, no you're safe, Hydra hasn't gotten you in years," he assured gingerly. "They can't get you, they're gone now. Can you tell me where we are right now?"
"Bedroom... Stark Tower," he manages to mumble, his sobs calming down just the slightest at Steve's voice.
He nods approvingly, a million words of praise desperately wanting to pour from his mouth, but he refrained from doing so. The brunette's hair was a tangled mess, his fingers tugging harshly at it and clawing his scalp. Steve knew the metal could seriously hurt him if he kept this up, so he asked to touch him, and when he gave a nod in reply, his artist hands pulled at Bucky's wrists to bring his hands away from his head.
"You're going to hurt yourself," he reasoned.
"Deserve it."
Steve held the ex-assassins hands in his, calloused and rough. "Why would you deserve that? You've been through so much of it already from other people, you don't need it from yourself," he asked with a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.
Bucky didn't say anything for a moment, just adjusted his head so his chin was resting on his knees instead of his forehead. He could see Steve's figure in the dim light, even his silhouette screamed warm and inviting. The darkness of the room hid their faces—or maybe just Steve's, as the light was emanating from the way Bucky was facing—and he was thankful he couldn't see his boyfriend's pained expression.
"If no one will hurt me for all the wrong things I've done, I have to do it myself," he finally muttered.
"Bucky, sugar, c'mere," the blond cooed, opening his arms as an invitation to nestle in his embrace.
Bucky gladly accepted this invitation, crawling into Steve's lap. He liked the fact that they were roughly the same size, that meant they could swap positions whenever they needed to and it wouldn't be difficult to hold each other.
"Y'don't need anyone to punish you, not even yourself, see this?" Steve asks as he wraps his fingers around the brunette's metal wrist, holding up the arm gently. "This arm isn't the same one those Hydra bastards gave you, is it?"
He shakes his head.
"You know who made it?"
"T'Challa."
"T'Challa is a good man, yeah? He made you an arm that you can feel with," he brought the metal up to his lips, kissing the palm of Bucky's hand. He was forever grateful they had found a way to give his boyfriend a arm that he could actually feel with, it wasn't as good as a regular appendage, but it meant Bucky could feel Steve's lips on the cool metal when he littered it with butterfly kisses. Both of them appreciated this feature a lot. "Do you think weapons can feel things?"
"No." He knows all too well how the absence of emotions feels, or rather how it doesn't feel.
"So what the hell are you doing using it like a weapon on yourself?"
Bucky leaned in closer to Steve, an alternative to begging Steve to just get on with his punishment because he wanted the pain to be over quickly. But Steve wouldn't ever, he hasn't ever hurt him.
"Stevie," he whimpers.
"What do you need me to do, sugar?"
"Anything," his voice was a little more stable but he didn't feel that way. "Hurt me or fuck me or anything in between, just please, make me feel something besides this."
Steve definitely didn't want to hurt him, he didn't want to take advantage of him either by having sex with him, so he cupped Bucky's cheek with his right hand and kissed him. He pressed their lips together like he was scared they'd shatter if he put anymore pressure on them.
The kiss made him cry, well, maybe not the kiss itself, but the vulnerability of it made him feel exposed and he didn't know what else to do. Tears dropped down his cheeks and Steve kissed them away, nudging their noses together every now and then.
When his lips weren't on Bucky's skin, the blond was whispering to him words of praise, hoping to lift his spirits.
"Shh, it's alright Buck, you're so strong makin' it through all this. My strong Winter Soldier, using that title as a hero now, saving people all over, doing good like you always wanted to."
It takes a half an hour for him to finally calm down, silently crying while his body shook and tears poured from his eyes. His cries are soon just sniffles, but he doesn't move from Steve's lap.
"There you go sugar, you're okay, see? I've got you just as much as you've got me," Steve didn't protest Bucky staying in his embrace. "Let's get back to bed, still got a while before sunrise."
With Bucky's approving nod, he picked up the brunette and laid him in their bed, walking down to the end of the bed where the blankets had been discarded. A whimper distracted him and he looked behind him to see his boyfriend's hand stretched out to him, just out of reach, making grabbing motions while he pleads, "Don't go."
"I'm not, I'm not leaving, just grabbing the blankets," he assures as he picks up the soft material and spreads it out over the mattress. It drapes over Bucky in the most adorable way and he doesn't waste any time getting into bed himself, the brunette cuddling up to him as soon as he's under the layers of fabric.
"Love you, Stevie."
"I love you too, Buck," he sighs as he strokes his hair. "Always will."