Avengers/X-Men One Shots - The Blood/White Phoenix Saga

ONE-SHOT LI: You Could Never Hurt Me

Set during Blood Phoenix 8

Bucky Barnes's POV

I hated my arm. Every night spent in the shower, running my hand over the mangled, burnt scars of skin that was formed where flesh and bone met metal. The wretched red star. HYDRA still owned me. I was free, but I was still theirs, in one way or another. Between the nightmares, panic attacks and constant feelings of paranoia, I was constantly reminded that the brainwashing was there, and they still owned me.

With the saying of the trigger words, they could own me again. But Adelaide was there. It took everything in me to not take my fear and frustrations out on her. But she battled many of her own demons as well. And in that way we were very much alike. We both frequently told each other 'I'm sorry.' Those were words I never forgot, nor did I ever let myself forget. I loved her terribly and we were both starting to fall - hard. Hard and fast we fell for each other.

But I was still afraid of hurting her.

My only friend.

The girl that I cared about the most.

The only girl I cared about.

I couldn't hurt her.

But I was falling for her.

Adelaide Lehnsherr's POV

I could tell. He didn't want to hurt me, I could see it clearly. The way he held my hands once when I had been injured from dropping a glass cup. The way he did anything that regarded to me with his metal hand, whether it was putting his arm around me to comfort me as we slept on the mattress that we shared, or when we hugged. He only used his good arm, keeping his metal arm out of the way. He hated hurting me. He hated the thought of it. I was a telepath, and the thought was constant on his mind. It was loud. Echoing over and over, professing his deepest fear. One particular day, he finally decided to emerge from his fear and tell me what he feared the most. For such a strong man, there was a lot of fear underneath, and I was not the only one who was afraid.

We were watching the television and just as we finished our movie and the end credits rolled on the tiny flat screen, I noticed only his human arm was around me. I was sitting on his right side, which was natural for him to put his good arm around me. But I wanted that to change. I could push him, but I knew I wanted him to come out. I leaned against him slightly, but still he kept the other arm out of the way.

'You wanna go to bed?' he asked in his soft, husky voice.

'Nah. Here is good. For now, at least. Put your arms around me. Hold me.' He kept the other arm out of the way, so I grabbed his metal arm and brought it to where it could rest on my stomach, just above where the human hand was resting. His fingers were large, and I felt how well the metal fingers were sculpted to look like his human hand. I ran my fingers up and down his metal forearm. 'Do you hate your arm?' I asked him.

'Hm?' he replied, not getting my question.

'Do you hate your arm?' I repeated.

'Yes,' he replied in a clipped, short tone.

'If it's any comfort, James, I really like your arm. I think it's lovely. It's a work of art.'

'I would hardly call a killing machine a work of art,' he retorted bitterly. I turned to him, placing my hand on his chest so as to prop myself up more, so I could look into his face.

'When are you going to start seeing what I see?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Let me rephrase that,' I said gently, giving him a soft peck on the cheek as he stiffened from the unusual contact. 'When are you going to see the man that I see?'

'There is no man. There's only me. There's only the monster.'

'When I look at you, I see James Barnes, a good man who fought for his country. Sacrificed all, without expecting anything in return, perhaps except a home, peace, a pretty wife and lovely children after the war. I see a man who's been broken ten times, a hundred over, and emerged the stronger for it. All of this - these scars, the arm, this is your story of survival. Your story of pain and loss, everything you regret, every torture, every memory wipe, every ordeal you've ever been through, this is all you. Survival, being a champion, fighting through your demons and the deepest pain. I see Steve's friend, his best friend. I see a loving son, a devoted brother and most importantly, a great soldier. A man who was willing to fight and die for his country, even when the odds weren't so good. That's who I see. That's the man I want you to see.'

'I don't see that. I see a monster, a murderer. When I look at this arm, I see a killing machine. I see a brainwashed soldier who doesn't know what the hell to do with himself.'

'That's exactly what I told myself. I learned to look past that, to embrace who I really was. To embrace the deeper parts of myself. The good, the bad, the ugly, even the really ugly. I learned that I'm not a monster. There are times I still think I'm a monster. I have nightmares, panic attacks, everything. I have all of that too. I struggle with that too. But no matter how many times I've fallen, I remember the people who have helped me pick myself back up from six feet under. Steve. Natasha. Clint. Sam. Tony. And you.'

'I've - I've helped you? In what way?'

'You were the light in my darkness, James. You helped me see straight. In between all the chaos, all the guns, the fighting, the hell we went through - we did it together. If I had never fallen in that coma, I would never have met you. Honestly, those four years made me what I am today. An expert killer, yes. A fighter? Definitely. A survivor? Absolutely. And that's what I see when I look at you.' He pulled his arms out from my embrace and stood. I stood too. He grabbed his jacket. 'Where are you going?' I asked. He turned slightly, but his hulking form was still turned away from me, with only the back of him showing.

'Out.' I stepped forward and grabbed his arm, but he jerked away from me as his arm began violently twitching and jerking in spasms. I saw the plates in his arm shifting as it hummed, almost angrily. 'I could hurt you with this arm. Please... don't touch me. I don't want to hurt you.' My eyes welled with tears at the angry man standing before me and I gave him a small, sad smile.

'You could never hurt me, Winter.' It just slipped out. He turned fully.

'What?'

'You could never hurt me, Winter,' I repeated. He stepped towards me.

'Yes, I could.'

'No. You can't. You never could.' He cracked a small smile at me and for the first time, he showed emotion. His eyes misted over and he lowered his head as a small tear dripped down onto the wooden floor.

'You really mean that?'

'Yes.' He looked up and took two steps towards me. With his long strides, he easily closed the distance between us. He was closer now and I nearly bumped into his solid chest. Our eyes flickered up and down. Lips, eyes. Lips, eyes. Almost as if contemplating whether to kiss or not. He reached out, and with his metal hand, stroked my cheek gently.

'If it helps,' he said gruffly, 'you were the light in my darkness, too.' He leaned closer, breaking the distance between us. I could contain it no longer. I stood on my tiptoes, but he initiated the closing of the space between us first. Leaning down, he kissed me full on the lips. My heart began racing, and my knees nearly gave out. After a full ten seconds of kissing, we parted.

'James,' I breathed.

'Adelaide.' We kissed again. And again. We parted again, and I could still feel the taste of his lips. The taste of coffee. The smell of metal and a vague hint of leather. My heart thrummed in my chest, and I placed my hand over his thick chest, where I could hear his heartbeat. It beat in sync with mine, and just when I thought I couldn't fall any harder for James Buchanan Barnes, I did.

'I love you, Winter.'

'I love you too, Phoenix.'