Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

73. BUCKY: Love is an Open Door

A/N: Thinking about posting a separate short Bucky short-story style fic I've had written up on my computer for a few months now. I was reading through it, editing, a few nights ago and thought: "Maybe someone would actually read this??" Still not sure. It's a cutesy/angsty OC fic about Bucky falling in love with a sweet but super dangerous Hydra girl while also struggling to overcome his own issues with being wiped and weaponized. Lots of drama, fluff, fight scenes, and smut promised. If anyone has any thoughts on that let me know!

-Winnie

Words: 2.9K

Life hasn't always been easy for me. Hell, I can't really think of a time that it's been anything other than hard. Some days are harder than others. Some nights I cry. But now at least I've got a purpose. I've found a family, and that's all I can ask for. I've found them through the Avenger's Initiative. SHIELD tracked me down and said I'd be good for the cause. I asked them why exactly they would need an Empath on their team. That's when they pointed out how useful one would've been before Civil War. If someone had been there to monitor their thoughts, feelings, emotions and help balance and mediate amongst them, there wouldn't have even been a war.

So that's how I found myself here. I've got a room right next to Bucky's so that if he ever has one of those terrible episodes in the night I can help, because I'm the only one who will really know what he needs, and because he trusts me more than a lot of the others. Steve's room is the only other one in this hall. Steve seems to like me, too. I try not to pry on his emotions. That'd be rude. But I know people well enough to read their faces and their bodies. And from the few times I've accidentally felt his head; I know he'd consider me a friend.

It's snowing tonight. It's a rare night in December where everyone sleeps in their rooms in the tower: not a single one of them is gone on a mission or trip. I'm the only person who never leaves. I stay here, where I'm needed, for whenever one of the team members needs me.

Someone knocks on my door. I call out over my shoulder without setting down my paintbrush. I hear the soft paddling of bare feet onto my hardwood floor before the soft cough that signals Bucky Barnes.

"Do you need something, Bucky?" I ask softly. The soft whistling noises of my brush against the canvas as yellow paint smears is soothing.

"Can I come in?"

I turn my head back to smile at him. I gesture him closer. "Of course. My door's always open for you, James."

Bucky nods with a hint of a smile. Hands in his pockets he shuffles closer. He's in a pair of sweatpants and a tight t-shirt. He hesitates before sitting down on the corner of my bed.

"It's okay; go ahead." I give him my back for a moment more while I get rid of my painting tools. I hear him take a seat.

"You can keep painting," I hear his soft, silken voice tell me.

I raise an eyebrow. "You don't want me to...?" I hint towards my abilities of soothing wild emotions—fear and hate, mainly. Sadness is much harder to conquer, but I've managed to do it before. Jealousy is pretty easily manipulated, since it's such a shallow emotion, but it's seldom felt amongst the team members.

"No, no. I just wanted to see you." Bucky forces a small smile onto his lips. I know it's a lie.

"You're upset. Are you sure you don't want me to help, dear?"

Bucky shakes his head. His hands run up and down his thighs in a nervous habit as he lets himself look around my room. He's never been this calm when he's been in here before. "No, I'm alright. I need to learn how to fix myself, ya know? I can't always expect you to help me." He brings his blue eyes to my face once more. "But thank you for the offer."