Little Secrets, Little Bucky

Panic

"So Cap's squadron will most likely be the first team on the scene, clearing the way....." the Shield agent droned on and on, explaining a plan that in all honesty could've been an email. Bucky gave Y/n and Sam a bored look from across the room and they both rolled their eyes in the direction of the agent clearly just as displeased as he was. "We don't have many leads on which Hydra agents will officially be on the base," the speaker said, clicking to the next slide of his all too long presentation, "But we have determined that their base leader is a woman named Ophelia Sarkissian."

All at once, Bucky's world came crashing down around him. No. No. No. No. She was coming. She could find him. He had to hide. He had to run. There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to go. The name seemed to echo in Bucky's head. Everything else was gone from his mind, the only thing he could think of was her. The room might as well have been spinning, and he could feel his chest heaving. There was no air in his lungs. How was he supposed to breathe again?

In 1...2...3...4

Oh god, why weren't his lungs filling all the way up?

Out 1...2...3...4

The photos on the screen seemed to taunt him, the all too familiar face boring into his very soul. A hand on his shoulder. He flinched away, looking up to see Y/n's steady gaze. A lifeline in a rough sea. She led him away from the photos, away from that evil fucking name. Into a....room? The room began moving, not a room then. An elevator? The doors opened. Yes, an elevator. The doors opened. A familiar place. Home. Safety.

No.

There was no safety, not really. Not when she could be anywhere. Hands on his shoulders, sitting him on the couch. Gentle pressure bringing him back to the present. Almost. It was like being weighed down underwater with the surface so fucking close, but he couldn't claw his way up. He heard a voice. Steady, calm, the opposite of his own mind. He tried with everything in him to listen.

"...give me your hand?"

This was familiar. This he could do. He reached out his right hand, clasping her own that had been outstretched and let her guide it to her chest. She took deep, slow breaths, letting him feel them as he focused in on her heartbeat. Like they had hundreds of times before. As he came back to the present he heard her calmly reciting the date and the weather between breaths, anchoring him firmly with her. She held his hand carefully to her chest, cradling it with care reserved specifically for him. There were tears on his cheeks. He didn't remember crying. She was speaking again.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Ja- James Buchanan B-Barnes," he said in a shaky voice, "but everyone calls me, everyone calls me Bucky."

"Good," she sounded so proud of him, "Where are you, Buck?"

"Home, Stark Tower." He looked around, affirming his location to himself. "The 91st floor, in our common room. I live here with Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and you."

"And who am I?"

"Y/n Rogers," he hesitated for a moment, ensuring that they were alone, "Mama when I'm little."

"Okay, can you take another deep breath for me?"

In 1..2..3..4

His lungs finally filled up to the top.

Out 1...2...3...4

Bucky felt the adrenaline start leaving his system. All of a sudden everything felt heavy, like he weighed ten times as much as he did this morning. His skin had that uncomfortable itch underneath it again, touch deprivation rearing its ugly head now that he wasn't panicking quite so much anymore. Thankfully, there was a place in this routine for that too.

"Can I hug you?" She asked quietly, still holding his hand to her heart. He could feel her heartbeat under his palm, strong and steady. Bucky nodded his head, letting Y/n pull him closer on the couch as she wrapped her arms around him securely. A deep sigh left his mouth as she held him there, head resting on her shoulder.

She just stayed there, holding him tightly, until he was almost falling asleep on her shoulder. "I think we should get you in bed." She whispered. "I'll bring you some food too."

"I'm not little, Y/n." He said quietly, "you don't need to do that,"

"You don't have to be little to be taken care of." Y/n responded softly, "You got really shaken up, you deserve to get help recovering."

"Okay," Bucky whispered after a minute, not trusting his voice not to break. She was being so gentle, so kind. And all he wanted was for her to stay close. She helped him stand up, steadying him when his legs almost gave out. Once she had helped him into his bed she turned away and he reached for her wrist, preventing her from walking out.

"I'm just getting you some food," she said, "you need to eat." But Bucky's eyes were wide, and Y/n realized that big or little, he still needed her close after such a vulnerable situation. "You know what? I bet the meeting's over by now, how about I just ask Sam or Steve to bring us both some food when they get back?"

Bucky nodded gratefully, releasing her wrist when he realized that she wasn't going anywhere. "Will you come sit with me?" He asked tentatively. Y/n didn't hesitate to climb into the bed, settling against the pillows. Bucky shuffled closer, resting his head on her thigh and she began carding her fingers through his hair. "I'm gonna see her aren't I?" He asked once he finally felt peace return to his body.

"Not if you don't want to," Y/n responded after thinking for a few minutes. "I'll get you off the missions or keep you on the jet if you need me to." She could find an excuse somewhere, anything to keep her baby safe.

"I don't want to," he said quietly, "but I think I need to. I need to face her, I want to make her pay. I want closure."

A deep sigh left Y/n as she kept up the soothing motion through Bucky's hair. "I know." She'd had a feeling that he'd want to go after her. He was terrified and hurt, but he was also angry. She knew better than anyone that Bucky wasn't a helpless little kitten, no he was a wounded tiger, ready to lash out and attack those that had caused him pain.

"I can't do it alone," he admitted, "I need you guys by my side."

After what Sarkissian had done to Bucky, Y/n was determined to bring her to justice. Justice however, could take many different forms. Death was too good for a monster like her. And jail time wasn't enough either. Y/n had plenty of ideas but most of them involved a hot poker and a chainsaw. "We'll be there," she promised, "I swear, we'll have your back."

He nodded his head and let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Of course his team would have his back, they always did. After a while Sam and Steve came in with dinner, sitting on the bed with Bucky and Y/n. As Bucky looked around at the plates on top of the covers and the circle of friends around him he realized that no matter what happened on the mission, there was one thing Hydra still hadn't taken from him. He had a family, a home to come back to.

Even when it got late and he started losing his inhibitions, telling Steve and Sam the basics of what Sarkissian had done to him, he found security in the way that his friends didn't run away, didn't blame him or tell him to move on. Y/n had given him her hand to hold onto, allowing him to draw strength from her and as his voice began to shake he felt Steve's hand on his shoulder. Sam held his other hand, squeezing to let him know he could keep talking and he felt a weight lift off his chest.

He didn't go into detail like he did when he told Y/n, didn't feel the need to. Sam and Steve didn't need to know that part just yet. And he thanked whatever god was listening that they didn't push. Instead they let him say what he wanted to and when he was finally finished his family did what he never thought anyone would do. They stayed. They curled up in his bed with him, Y/n holding him close to her chest, and they stayed.