Amnesiac - A Peter Parker Story

Who Are You To Me?

Bucky's heart leapt into his throat at Peter's shaky voice and unexpected question.

"H-hate you?" He said, his eyes filling with tears as he gave a half-hearted laugh. Peter just stared at him. "Q-quite... Quite the o-opposite in fact."

"W-what do you mean?" Peter asked weakly, curling his knees up to his chest tightly rocking himself back and forth a bit.

"I-I c-can't tell you that?" He said, although it sounded more like a question than an answer.

The room was silent for a moment before Peter's head lowered and he sniffled brokenly.

"Y-yeah... yeah, o-o-ok." He whispered, then stood. 

"P-peter, wait-" Bucky tried to plead, standing, but Peter shook his head and left the room quietly.

Bucky collapsed onto his bed, holding his head in his hands.

-----

Peter was having a bad day. Although calling it just a bad day was probably an understatement. 

He was struggling to remember anything in his short-term memory and his head was pounding constantly. Not to mention the sensory overload that now ravaged his senses. He ended up laid out on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes to block out the light and sound proof headphones over his ears. 

That was how Bucky found him. He paused in the door, watching him for  moment. It was painful to see him like that. So Bucky did the one thing he knew helped. He moved over to the couch silently, sitting down beside it and sighing. He lifted his metal hand and laid it carefully over Peter's forehead. He saw the young man's body fill with tension at the sudden touch, so he stilled, wondering if Peter would stop him. 

Soon, the tension began to drain away, so Bucky took that as a sign to keep going. He kept his cold hand over his forehead and began to play with his hair gently.

They were there for most of the day. Peter's headache and overload very slowly retreated as Bucky cared for him. The cold was a welcome balm to his overheated skin, and his headache began to ease. Peter let out a soft breath and lifted his arm from his eyes, letting it fall to rest comfortably over his own stomach as his face turned towards Bucky.

"How did you know that would help?" He asked softly, voice curious and eyes a bit confused. 

Bucky let out a sigh and pulled his hands away quietly, looking away. "I can't say... much because if I do, I might just hurt you-" He said quickly, biting his lip and closing his eyes. "But I used to help you with your... overloads."

Peter frowned. He helped with his overloads? His first thought was "why would I let him do that?" but the one the followed was what caught his attention. 

"If I let you... Do that for me, then... who are you to me?" He whispered.

Bucky took a shuddering breath. 

"I-I can't tell you that, Peter, but... maybe I can show you." He whispered, watching Peter closely. When the other just frowned and tilted his head, he smiled nervously. He lifted his flesh hand to cup his cheek, taking a deep breath before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Peter's in a chaste kiss.

Peter inhaled deeply when Bucky's lips met his own, not really understanding what was happening. He felt sparks of recognition tingle all over his body, the kiss seeming to help trigger a memory to start emerging. 

When Bucky pulled back, Peter stared at him with glistening eyes, a tear leaking down his face slowly. He was remembering. Soft touches with whispered words, waking up to lips on his ear, laughing while dancing to quiet music.

"You were my-" Peter started, covering his mouth before he could finish and beginning to cry. Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around Peter securely.

"Yes, Peter, I was..." He whispered, closing his eyes tightly and crying with his lost love.