Piece By Piece

Part 19

I opened my eyes only to shut them again in defence of the insane brightness that surrounded me. White walls. Bright lights, etc. There was a rhythmic beeping sound to the right of me and an ache in my bones. I slowly opened my eyes again and examined my surroundings. I was in a hospital bed, but when I looked out of my small window, I could see that I was too high up to be in a hospital. No hospital had roughly 80 stories. The sound of a Turing doorknob had me tense, and then scared. My superiors? As the door opened I mentally hatched out an escape plan, which mostly consisted of killing whoever it is and then finding the nearest exit.

A man in his mid-forties entered the room, wearing beige jeans and a light blue golf shirt under a doctors coat. His face was etched with stress lined but his eyes were kind.

"Hi Y/n," he spoke quietly. I just stared at him. I didn't know anyone named Y/n. I didn't actually have a name, myself.

"I'm not Y/n. I don't know who that is," I said flatly. Curiosity piqued inside me, but I ignored it. I would have time for curiosity once I was on my own.

"Okay. What would you like me to call you?" The man asked. I stared in Confusion. I didn't know. I settled on shrugging in response. "Okay, we'll I'm Bruce. Some people call me Banner, that's my last name, and you can call me either of those." I nodded. "How are you feeling?" I shrugged again. I wasn't about to tell a stranger that was experiencing some of the worst pain in my life, granted I don't remember anything up to about two weeks ago.

"Any nausea? Your fever has come down a fair bit, so that's good," I shook my head about the nausea.

"Where am I?" I asked. I didn't know anything. One minute I was at the base getting ready for another procedure, and then I wake up here. Bruce looked up from his clipboard.

"Your with the Avengers here. Do you know who I'm talking about?" I shook my head. He sight and made a sad face towards me. "Y/n, what all do you remember?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Why do you keep calling me that, I don't know who that is," he grimaced, and he mouthed the word 'whoops'.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. What do you remember?" I pinched my lips together. I didn't know this man, but he seemed trustworthy.

"I was on a table, I had just come from the melting pot, that's what the soldiers called it, I don't know why, but I was barefoot, lying on a silver table, and there was a doctor, and the rumbling. That's it, that's all I remember." Bruce looked at me with eyes filled with sympathy.

"I have to talk to the rest of the team, but we do have a place where we can get some of those memories back, if you'd like." There was a ping on his watch and the screen lit up. "Also, there's someone who wants to say hi to you, are you comfortable with that?" I nodded my head once.

"And I would like to get my memories back, so please take me there." He nodded and tapped something on his watch. Moments later, the door opened again, and another man walked in. He had shoulder-length brown hair, and light stubble scattered across his cheeks. His mouth was set in a slight frown, and concern etched a few lines in his forehead. His eyes were a brilliant shade of blue, and were so deepest that his lashes touch his brow bone when he looked slightly up. He wore a long sleeve black sweatshirt and a black glove on his left hand.

"Who are you?" I asked, not allowing the emotion within me to seep into my tone.

"I'm Bucky. Do you remember me?" Vaguely.

"Not at all." The already downturned corners of his mouth dipped into a deeper frown, and pain bloomed in his eyes.

"What do you remember Y/n?" I frowned.

"Why does everybody keep calling me that? That's not me! I don't know who that is!" He took a step back.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. Just stay calm, you don't want your heart rate to get to high, it will slow down your healing." I glared at him as I leaned back in the bed. I didn't know this man, and I didn't like the way he made me feel. Some part of me felt angry with him here, and hurt. I didn't know why, or where it came from, all I know is that I wanted him out.

"Why are you here?" I asked sharply, keeping my voice even. He sighed.

"I'm here because I was worried about you. We all are. We rescued you from Hydra, doll. We had to get you out of there, look at what they did to you," he said reaching for my bandaged hands. I jerked it away, not prepared for anyone to touch me. Hurt flashed in his eyes but he didn't try again.

"I know where I was, I was where I belonged. I was needed. You took me from my home. It wasn't a fun place by any stretch, but it was where I was needed. Wanted." I looked down. I don't know why I felt the need to feel wanted, but it was there, a thread that was sewn into the very fabric of my being. I had to be needed. I needed to be wanted.

"Listen to me, that place, that, that, that hole, was not your home, and you don't belong there. You belong here, with your family." I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't even have a fucking name, let alone a family. Don't talk to me about that." He sighed, and put his head in his hands.

"Okay. We have friends, in another country, who can help you."

"I know. Bruce told me." His head popped up.

"Are you going to take the offer?" I stared into his hopeful eyes.

"Yeah. I think so. I want to know about myself. I want to remember the people who've hurt me. I want to hurt them back." I spoke softly. When I looked back at him, he couldn't meet my eyes. I stared at him until I was sure that my eyes were burning bikes in his face, and then he looked up at me.

"We've all hurt you, one way or another. Just some have done worse than others." I stared at him, careful to not allow my emotions access to my face.

"Please leave my room." He let our eye contact linger before letting out an almost silent 'okay'. He slowly stood and then even more slowly, he exited the room.

-Bucky's POV-

It was a good thing I left the room when she asked me to, because if she hadn't, I would have broken down in guilt, and would have begged her to forgive me, and begged even harder for the real Y/n back, and it would have definitely overwhelmed her, which in turn would have slowed her recovery.

The next day when I asked to see her Bruce had told me she said no, and so instead of talking to her, I went and spoke to the team about getting her to Wakanda. Steve and Natasha were completely on board, which I expected, along with Bruce and Vision. I told them about my concerns regarding the fact that she wanted her memories to get revenge, and I saw Wanda shift uncomfortably in her chair.
Sam also was turned off of the idea by this since he was always and asshole to her. And Tony. And essentially the rest of the team.

"Can we pick and choose which memories she gets back? Like only give her the good ones back?" Tony asked. Steve shook his head and frowned and I stared at him.

"And give her back a whopping amount of what, two? All she has are bad memories, and if we don't give them all back, we are as bad as Hydra," I snapped. After a few minutes of swallowing this perspective. Wanda refused to back it up but voted no, but she was the only one. The rest of us voted yes. Some of us because we understood how it felt to not know anything about ourselves, like Natasha, Clint and I, and some of us just chose to be morally right, like Tony and Sam.

It was decided. We were going to get her memories back, even if she tried to kill us once she remembered how horribly we treated her.