To The Bitter End (Bucky Barnes/ Winter Soldier x reader)

Chapter twenty-two

Sleep was hard to come by that night. It almost felt as if it was actively avoiding you, slipping between your fingers every time you tried to catch it.

Eventually – you weren't sure how many hours you'd been trying for – you slipped out of the bed and tiptoed down the short hall until you reached the small-ish sitting room. The window was closed and locked tight, but just the sight of the star-speckled sky was calming. Your room at Hydra had no windows, the only time you saw the sun was on missions, but you didn't have time to admire the scenery then.

"Can't sleep?"

You jumped and spun around, instantly ready for a fight.

Bucky was leaning against the doorway, arms folded across his chest and one leg crossed over the other. He didn't look like he'd just woken up, in fact, he looked like he'd been awake for as long as you had.

Your eyes scanned the room quickly, noting everything about the space.

"I'm not going to hurt you if that's what you're worried about."

"It wasn't," You snapped.

"You're lying, but that's beside the point," Bucky pushed himself off the wall and took a couple of steps towards you, keeping both his hands in view. You instinctively clenched your fists. "Are you scared?" He asked softly.

"No... I don't know," You faltered. "I'm scared of going back... but I'm also scared of not going back." Without realizing it, you started rubbing your left wrist, it was an unconscious response you had to feeling uncertain or confronted. "But I'm not scared of you."

"What's that?" Bucky's brows furrowed as he came close enough to reach for your hand. You drew back slightly, then locked eyes with him and allowed him to take your left hand in both of his.

His gaze suddenly hardened and his jaw clenched as he got a look at the brand burnt into your wrist. "If I ever get my hands on Karpov," he growled. "I'll tear him apart."

"It was a punishment," You mumbled. "I was asking too many questions."

"No," Bucky hissed, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. "What they've done to you, to us, it will never be justified."

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze. "Some nights, I would wake up expecting to find someone beside me. I'd reach out, not sure what I thought I'd find but..."

"No one was there," Bucky finished for you. You nodded.

"And then I'd ask if they knew, if there was somebody who used to be there. A partner, a friend. I learned quickly enough never to ask about it."

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I should have gone back for you, I should have fought harder to find you. I should have saved you," Bucky shook his head. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," You murmured. "I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

Bucky let out a dry laugh. "It's ok. It's not the first time someone's wanted me dead, and it won't be the last."

You tried to force a smile but failed. It was like you'd forgotten how. "Well, now you know there's one less person who does."

"Yeah," Bucky allowed his forehead to rest against yours and you closed your eyes as you began to sway gently. "Do you still remember how to dance?" In response, you moved one of your hands to rest on his shoulder while he still held your other hand.

You felt his free hand rest on your waist as you continued to sway. The moon came into view outside the window, bathing the room in silver light. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tucked your head under Bucky's chin, why did it feel so right to be in his arms?