Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Mama

Bucky woke up the next morning teetering on the edge of his headspace. He pushed it back as he felt something wet and his face flushed red, Y/n was right, if he hadn't worn the pull-up he would've wet the bed with her in it. He went to the bathroom, took off the wet pull-up, cleaned himself up, and sat back on the bed right as Y/n was sitting up.

"Good morning, Buck. You sleep ok?" She asked, giving him a smile that almost made all of his anxiety about what had happened fade away. Almost.

"I'm so sorry," he started, "I didn't mean to call you that last night, I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or-"

"Bucky stop," she interrupted, "you can call me Mama if you want, I really don't mind." He blushed, looking down at his lap, but didn't speak so she continued. "Honestly I feel kind of...honored."

"Honored?" He asked in a shocked voice. Why would she feel honored? He certainly didn't feel like he was special or important enough for that.

"I don't know if you've noticed yet, but I kind of thrive when I get to take care of other people." She explained, "The amount of trust it takes for you to call me that.....Well it makes me feel good, like someone needs me you know?"

"I do need you," Bucky admitted quietly, "I need you so much it kind of scares me." He had never been able to rely on someone else like this before, no one could be trusted in the way he was trusting her. "No one else has ever treated little me the way you do." All he had ever known when he was small was violence and pain, a sharp contrast to the gentle way that Y/n handled him.

"Can I ask you something?" Her curiosity was finally getting the best of her. "You don't have to answer, but I've been wondering for a while."

He took a deep breath, having a feeling he knew what she was about to ask. "Go ahead."

"There was someone else wasn't there? Before me?" She asked gently, "A caregiver, or something like that?"

He nodded his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he choked out, "there was. She, uh, she..." he trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"You don't have to tell me if you're not ready, Buck," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I understand if you don't want to talk about her yet."

He shook his head, blinking back the tears in his eyes, "No, I need to do this. I want you to know."

She nodded her head, "Ok, whatever you want to tell me, I'll listen." She picked up one of the blankets from the bed and wrapped it around the two of them, knowing that Bucky hadn't been given things like that during his captivity. He tugged the blanket tighter around them, seeking security and she offered him her hand, which he gladly took.

They sat there for a long time while Bucky told her everything he needed to tell her. He told her about the woman that had attempted to gain his trust, Ophelia Sarkissian. About the way that when she failed to do so had managed to force him into developing his headspace while he was the Winter Soldier. The woman used him to fulfill horrid fantasies, telling him to call her Mommy while she tortured and humiliated him. Y/n was silent as Bucky's shaky voice spelled out the horrible things the woman had done to him. When he was finished she got out of bed and went to the bathroom. Bucky heard retching a few moments later.

His face burned. Did Y/n think he was that revolting now? A wave of fear and shame washed over him as his hands began to shake and he fought back the tears gathering in his eyes. He never should have told her about the things Sarkissian did to him. He was damaged goods and now Y/n knew that. What if she didn't want him anymore?

Y/n walked back into the room, still feeling sick from their conversation. The things that woman had done were unspeakable. Bucky was curled into himself, clutching the blanket tightly around him. She wasn't surprised, he'd just re-lived some truly horrible things. "Buck?" She spoke just loud enough to get his attention, "What can I do to help?"