James Buchanan Barnes Imagines

Woken

You continued to punch the bag over and over. Bare knuckles hitting the leather like there's no tomorrow.

The more the memories came, the more you continued to push yourself harder. They trained you this way. They trained you to push you past your limits with no mercy, brutal and utter pain through the torture and screams. You could still hear the buzz from the electric current that used to run through you. Deadline is what they called you, the only prisoner that was trained just as hard as the Winter Soldier, maybe harder. People looked at you shaking, if you walked down the street and bumped into someone they'd hand you their wallet after they saw your face, or if you entered a restaurant it'd be on the house everytime. The waiters and cooks would come to you so many times you'd think it was a time loop. You couldn't even say "Excuse me" without someone cowering before you. You were a kind and gentle soul, you didn't take Bullshit from anyone but you'd help them out at the sametime. But, that part of you- 40s you- disappeared when you fell off the train with Bucky.

Snapping yet another bag off it's hinges, you took a deep breath and grabbed another one hooking it to the ceiling. Sweat dripping off every part of you, your bones crying out for help. You ignored it all, you focused on the bag and began hitting it once more. Left and right, your knuckles were bleeding, splitting the red on the bag with each punch. Your skin was spilt but you didn't care, every ounce of pain went straight to your brain giving you another memory to spark again and silently curse yourself.

"Please....please don't! I didn't say anything!"

You punched faster.

"Just leave my son out of this! Please, I'm begging you! He's only four!"

You punched harder.

"No! St-"

"Mommy!"

It snapped.

You stumbled back, tears in your eyes. You screamed and fell to the floor, curling up in a ball as you rocked back and forth, begging the memories to go. You killed that woman and her child. You didn't mean too. You were forced, you didn't know what you were doing, you didn't understand anything that was happening. Your sobs became quiet ones, your brain thumping against your skull, your body violently shaking. You heard footsteps then the Gym doors swing open. 6 feet tall, heavy, silent movements, it was Bucky. He immediately got in the ring and dropped to his knees pulling you into his lap. You curled up next to him sobbing in his chest, he rubbed your back and drew small circles on your arms. Looking around, he knew exactly what happened and he regrets you were ever a part of it.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here. It's alright, doll." He whispered in your ear, slowly rocking you back and forth.

You didn't say anything back, you just continued to shake and grip his shirt tighter. He understands the pain, the guilt, and the all above anger in this kind of situation. It's only been a few months since you got here to the Avengers HQ and everything started out...quiet. Then you got comfortable, that's when the memories and nightmares started. You were just like Bucky, you'd wake up screaming or shaking, get out of bed and go to the Gym to punch your feelings out. You thought crying made you weak, vulnerable even. You hate being either because you know you're not, but even in the toughest situation that slips your mind sometimes.

"Come on, you'll sleep in my room." He mumbled picking you up.

He knew that you had at least one injury and took you to his bathroom sitting you on the sink. You immediately, natural reflex, brought your knees to your chest and buried your head in your knees. Bucky came back with the bandages and alcohol, you stuck out your hand and he took it setting down the equipment. He used his other hand to lift your head up and caress your cheek softly. You pushed up against his hand feeling yourself get tired, you knew the process to this- it happens to much. Pulling away slowly, Bucky took the alcohol and lightly poured some on your exposed knuckles. You balled your hand and squirmed under the burning pain, you didn't scream or cry out but it was still painful. Then, Bucky cleaned off the blood and wrapped the bandages around your hand and preceeding to do the same thing to your other hand. Once he was done, he picked you up and carried you to his bed, laying you down and pulling the covers to your shoulders. You grabbed his wrist beside he could leave and pulled him down with you, slight yelp leaving his throat.

"Останься....пожалуйста."
(Stay....please.) You mumbled.

He smiled internally and got under the covers bringing you close to his chest. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck between the pillows and wrapped your arms around his back. He kissed the top of your head and your temple, eventually placing little kisses all over to shoulder and neck. You usually like to sleep alone in his room, even if you two were together, you liked to be alone. But everytime you were, you'd wake up either ontop of him or next to him and his arm drapped over your waist. Today, was a different story. You needed him this time, you're tired of being by yourself. You can't fight this alone and you realized it, so he's your number one go to.

"Спи, кукла. Я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься. Я обещаю." (Sleep, doll. I'll be right here when you wake up. I promise.)

You nodded in his neck and soon began to drift off. Your eye lids getting heavy with every second that passed by. Bucky just hugged you tighter until he knew you were sleep, until he knew his Doll was safe and sound within his arms. Never again to be hurt by them. He will protect you with his life, whether you like it or not. He's not letting them get to you again, he's not letting them use you, hurt you, or take you away from him.

Over his dead body.