You Are Not a Monster

Fix You

"And the tears come streaming down your face,
When you lose something you can't replace,
When you love someone, but it goes to waste,
Could it be worse?
Lights will guide you home,
And ignite your bones,
And I will try to fix you."

"Eat." Sam commanded.

"I don't know how." The man, Bucky, muttered, staring at the soup.

"Don't know how. Of course you don't." Sam said under her breath. "All right. It's best you start with the broth anyway. God knows how long it's been since you've actually eaten something." She said louder, speaking to him this time. The way the man's eyebrows were furrowed and the pained look of confusion made Sam feel sorry for him. She was never much of a softie, but the fact that he looked so broken and afraid, that he flinched when she made any sort of sudden movement or he stiffened when she held something that could possibly harm him...

It pissed her off.

Who the hell would do this to someone? What did HYDRA have to do to completely break and traumatize the guy? They were some seriously sick people.

If those monsters can even be classified as people, she thought.

Before she had enough time to let herself get really pissed about it (well, any more than she already was), she turned her attention back to Bucky. He'd already picked up the spoon and was holding it correctly which, needless to say, was a good start.

"Okay, now, I'm assuming you know how to swallow stuff, right?" Sam checked. The man gave a short nod.

"Good. Then this will be easy. Just get some in your spoon, and put it in your mouth. Like this." She gave him a demonstration by getting a spoonful of broth and eating it. It felt odd having to teach someone something as simple as eating, but she was happy she could help him get back on his feet.

He followed her actions by spooning some of the liquid into his mouth, and as soon as he swallowed it, a tear rolled down his cheek.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked gently.

"I don't know." Bucky answered, wiping the tear from his face with his flesh hand. He stared at the wetness on his fingertips, confused. Another tear fell from his other eye, leaving a shiny trail as it dropped.

He winced and clutched the side of his head with his flesh hand. His breathing quickened, and Sam was afraid he was going to pass out.

"Hey, Bucky! Bucky!" Sam called, standing from her chair and crouching next to him. After thinking about it for a second, she switched sides so she was on the one of his flesh arm. Just in case he decided he wanted to strangle her.

"Bucky!" She tried again, placing a hand on his shoulder. That had done the job earlier.

After a few moments, his breathing evened out and his white-knuckled grip on his hair loosened. Though he still shook and tears fell behind the wall of dark hair, he calmed some.

"Hey, you're okay. Everything's okay." Sam said gently.

"I remember her." Bucky croaked.

"Who?" Sam asked.

"My mother. She used to make this when I was younger. And he was there..."

"Who was there?"

"Steve."

"Who's Steve?" Sam pressed.

She removed her hand from Bucky's shoulder and pulled the chair behind her up; if he had another episode she'd be there.

"He was my best friend...back when we were little." He muttered.

"What did he look like?" Sam wondered. Perhaps talking about it would be beneficial, maybe even help him remember more.

"He was short, only about 5'4". He only weighed 90 pounds, was always getting sick." Bucky said quietly. Suddenly, he gave a small, breathy chuckle.

"So you can laugh?" Sam teased, grinning. His body had stopped shaking so much.

"The punk was always getting into fights. Every other day I would end up finding him in an alley either being used as a punching bag or lying unconscious in a pile of trash bags. He couldn't be left alone for a minute..."

Bucky fell silent, signaling either that was all he remembered or that he was done talking.

"Why don't you eat some more? You need to get your energy up; you look like you could pass out any minute." Sam said, changing the subject. He moved to pick up his spoon and swallowed another spoonful of broth as she moved her own bowl closer. She noticed he kept pushing his hair back, as it kept falling in his face.

"Here," Sam said as she stood behind him. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just going to pull your hair up." She added quickly. His shoulders relaxed.

She ran her fingers through his hair a couple of times, untangling it.

"Tell me if I hurt you."

"Pain does not matter." Bucky stated.

"Yes, actually, it does. It's your body's way of telling you something's wrong. You should listen to it." Sam argued as she finished pulling his hair back.

"Ta-da. That's gotta be better."

"Thank you." The man said quietly.

"No problem." Sam returned, smiling.

After watching him for a minute and noticing he seemed to be handling the soup well, she told him he could probably eat the vegetables too.

"If you start feeling sick, stop. I don't wanna have to clean puke off my floors." Sam joked.

Bucky only nodded in response.

After they had both finished, she took their bowls to the sink and began cleaning the kitchen.

"Would you like some help?" Bucky asked. When she looked over to him, she noticed some color had returned to his face.

"You're my guest. Just relax. And you don't have to sit there- you can go sit in the living room or whatever. Do you know how to work a TV?" Sam asked.

His eyebrows scrunched as he thought for a moment before he shook his head. Sam gave a small laugh.

"I'll teach you after I'm done in here." She promised before returning her attention to the dishes, humming quietly to Coldplay's "Fix You" as she cleaned. She felt the man's eyes on her, studying her every move, listening intently to her humming. She pretended she wasn't paying attention, but kept an eye on him when he stood and found her piano.

She smiled to herself as he examined it.

I will fix you. I promise. She thought.