Title: This Man
Paring: Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) X Reader
Warnings: mentions blood and wounds and war and amnesia
Spoilers: watch Captain America: The Winter Soldier and you'd be set
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Slowly you closed the door from the dank stairs to the underground car park of your work closed behind you, humming under your breath to a tune you didn't realise had been stuck in your head until you began to repeat it.
Apart from it being a terrible day with a boss who didn't seem to give two cares about personal space or harassment in the workplace, you had gotten news that your good friend Sam Wilson had been helping Captain America - Captain America! - in saving the world. And you, the nurse who only got to patch up the superheroes, was left behind once more.
"Don't fool yourself, (y/n). You'll never be a hero like Spiderwoman or Captain Marvel." You instructed yourself as you groped in your bag for car keys. "Hope the showdown over S.H.I.E.L.D didn't wreck...oh!"
In front of your car, laying on the concrete was the figure of a man in a uniform, badly cut up and bruised. At once you bent to see him better - the yellowed LED lights did nothing for examination - you saw the star on his arm - a metal arm! - and mussed brown hair.
"How - how did this happen?" You asked the man, rolling him into the recovery position. "Sir, can you hear me?"
"The man on the bridge," he murmured. "I know him. I can't remember him, but I just tried to kill him. I know him."
You froze. Man? Bridge? Kill? It sounded like something the Dailey Bugle in New York would have a field day with.
"Sir, I'm not sure who you're talking about," you frowned, looking over him for wounds. You gasped when you found a hole in his abdomen, weeping blood through his clothes. "I have to take you upstairs to the hospital -,"
"No!" he gritted, crying out. "They'll find me. And make me kill him. No."
You took a deep breath. "Then what? What do I do, leave you here? From what I'm hearing, you're a spy or something but listen, I'm not on any side, I want you to honestly live a full life, maybe get your memories back and find this guy on the bridge." You instructed. The man on the floor flexed in pain, the metal fingers digging into the asphalt and pulling up little slabs of it. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going home with me. I'll fix you up and then you pretend nothing happened and leave when these wounds are healed. Got it?" You stood up, assessing his size. "Now you've got to help me by standing up, so I can get you in the back seat."
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
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