You Will Remember Me

The Ever

BB

He watched helplessly as doctors in white coats bustled around an operation table, knowing without even seeing the face who it was lying in the center.

He rushed forward and tried to throw the doctors out of the way, but they wouldn't budge. Not even when he used his metal arm and tried to pry them apart; he couldn't even get his fingers between their shoulders. Instead, he was forced to listen to the sound of saws and various machines and horrible, ragged screams as the specimen on the table was being experimented on.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trying to crush the horrendous noise and wishing he could just make it stop, the doctors backed up. They stood on either side of the metal table, allowing him to see from the end. He uncurled himself and relaxed his hands which had been clutching the side of his head, muffling the sounds around him.

The specimen sat up, her face disfigured, dark hair missing in patches, her eyes no longer the lively forest green that he had remembered.

"You did this to me, Bucky." She said, her voice quiet but haunting. "You let them kill me. They brought me here because of you, Bucky!" The last part was a ragged scream.

He clutched at the back of his head, fingers weaving their way into the dark mess of hair.

"No, no, no," he muttered frantically as Sam ranted on about how he had gotten her killed, how now she was a monster, just like him.

"Bucky..." He heard. It was distant and hard to latch onto, but it was a man's and it was different, and that made it easier. "Bucky, hey!"

Bucky's eyes shot open.

"It's okay, Buck. You're safe." Steve said soothingly, crouching in front of Bucky's chair. The boys were on a private jet, on their way to the Avengers Tower. Bucky had accidentally fallen asleep not long after they had boarded, though it took some convincing from Steve before he let himself relax enough for that to happen.

"You've been through enough, Buck. Get some rest." He'd said.

Yeah, like Bucky Barnes could ever get actual rest these days.

"Thanks, Stevie." Bucky muttered as he sat back in his chair. He ran his flesh hand over his face, rubbing away what was left of his grogginess. He noted the stubble on his jaw and decided to shave when he got to the Tower.

"I get them too, ya know." The blond said. He had taken his seat across from Bucky. "The nightmares. It's hard to get any sleep nowadays."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Bucky said, staring out the window at the tops of puffy white clouds.

He should've been happy: he was back with his best friend of over 70 years, out of danger, and he was on his way somewhere safe. But Bucky couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, the very same one that had tugged at the back of his mind ever since he'd left Sam Summers' lifeless body in the forest.

"What's wrong, Buck?" Steve asked. Bucky hadn't realized he'd been clenching his fist, digging his fingernails into the flesh of his palm.

"Just...something that happened at HYDRA." Bucky muttered. It wasn't entirely untrue, and he didn't want to elaborate. Steve looked away and out his own window.

That was something Bucky really liked about Steve. He knew that if Bucky wasn't in the mood to talk, he wasn't going to talk. He knew when to stop pestering and leave him alone, because he knew that usually Bucky just needed some time alone.

"You know, I was there." Steve said a few moments later. Bucky looked over with a questioning look on his face, but didn't speak. Instead, he just waited for Steve to explain.