The Mimic (HE/HIM VERSION)

119

Y/n wasn't even sure how to react. He felt so betrayed, so stupid, and so upset.

He had been smiling at the sound of Bruce's voice. He had thought that the team were there to break him out. But they weren't, and now he just looked like an idiot. Every good memory with the team seemed to flow through his mind as he sat on the edge of the bed, a bittersweet feeling washing over him. Had it all been a lie? Had the team never fully trusted him? They were the ones to save him from Hydra, he trusted them with his life - but they didn't seem to feel the same.

Y/n felt as if he'd just come full circle. When the team saved him, they put her in a cell in the compound. And now here he was, imprisoned in a cell by the team he thought he could trust. Except for the times where Hydra sent him out to kill, y/n had spent his whole life in empty rooms and cells. So to be in a cell so similar to that felt terrifying.

Every breath caused his chest to tighten, creating a horrifying feeling of suffocation. Despite the large cell, y/n felt extremely claustrophobic. Almost as if the walls were closing in on him - something that he hadn't felt ever since he was broken out of Hydra. He was alone. Completely alone. Nobody to distract him from his thoughts. Nobody to talk to except Bruce, but he didn't seem to be in the mood for meaningful conversations.

Y/n was nothing but a lab rat and an asset to be trained. Again.

Y/n shook his head over and over, setting his head in his hands to stop Bruce from seeing the tears begin to fall. His whole body was tense, almost caving in on itself as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Bruce I-" Y/n begun, gasping in a deep, shaky breath. He felt lightheaded, like he couldn't get enough air in his lungs. His knee bounced anxiously, causing the rest of his body to shake. "I can't be in here." He breathed out, lifting his head up to look in the mirror. His face had fallen into one of stress and fear. Every breath was shakier and shorter than the last as the overwhelming feeling of suffocation continued to grow.

This wasn't the reaction that Bruce expected. Bruce had expected anger and a lot of yelling, but that didn't seem to be the case. That didn't seem to be the case at all. Y/n looked as if he was in the midst of a panic attack. He was quiet, shaky, and closed in on himself. He'd never seen y/n like this before. Yes, he'd seen him freaked out after a nightmare, but nothing to this level.

Y/n's mind had completely taken over. Almost all of his worst memories included being trapped in a room or a cell. From the countless days of mimicking dying test subjects, to the 'lessons' that the man in the suit would teach him. Hell, he had even been locked in the apartment when his parents were killed. It was all too much.

It almost felt as if there was no air in the room, like he was slowly choking with every breath. Y/n felt completely trapped. Right when he finally had his freedom, it had been ripped away from him. He felt like a child again - vulnerable and scared. He thought that his childhood naivety had disappeared long ago, yet he still allowed himself to trust the team. "Bruce I can't-" Y/n took in another breath, his voice wavering as he stared at the mirror. He stood up as the memories and fear begun to worsen, beginning to glance around for any sign of a door. But there didn't seem to be one. It blended into the wall far too well. Which of course just set y/n off even more. "I can't be in this cell. I need to get out. I need some air, please." He begged desperately, rubbing his hands over his face.

"You know I can't do that, y/n." Bruce sighed. He watched him with careful eyes as he stood up. A pang of guilt hit him as he saw the look on his face, but he quickly pushed it to the side. As much as he hated it, observing y/n was his job now. He had a notepad and a pen in front of him, scribbling down as many notes as possible. The unstableness couldn't be just a physical thing. He'd been through far too much. But he'd never seen a reaction this bad from him before.

Tears finally begun to pour as Bruce said no. He didn't expect any less from him, but it just made the feeling of suffocation even worse. It just brought back the horrible times where he'd beg for the man in the suit to open the door, and he never would. Never.

"Please!" Y/n yelled, his voice wobbling terribly. There was no anger there, no frustration. Just pure fear and desperation. "I can't be in here. I can't." He cried out, hiccuping with every breath. Y/n made his way toward the mirror, resting his hands on the top of his head out of stress. He just hoped that he was actually looking at Bruce. "I can't do it. I can't be on my own in here." He begged through the tears. Everything felt as if it was closing in on him. Even the collar of his shirt felt as if it was strangling him. He had to get out. He had to get some air.

"Yes you can, y/n." Bruce said seriously, refusing to look up when y/n got closer to the two-way mirror. He felt terrible, he didn't want to be hit with even more guilt. He was only doing what was best for y/n. "You can't leave that cell. You're too unstable. It's not safe-"

"It's not safe for me in here!" Y/n interrupted, pacing away from the two-way mirror as he put his head in his hands. "You don't understand! I can hear him!" He yelled, pointing toward his forehead. It was obvious to him that he was talking about the man in the suit, but probably not to Bruce. He very rarely talked about him, and for a good reason. He didn't want to think about him - yet even in death he plagues his every waking hour. "He's constantly in my head! Constantly reminding me of things I want to forget! I can't be alone in here, Bruce! I can't do it! If I had Bucky-" Y/n's shouting suddenly stopped at the mention of Bucky. Almost as if he had just realised something.

They never got to say goodbye.