Bucky Barnes imagines

Cold, Part 2

A/N: Holy crap, this part was long. This chapter is pretty intense, so just a heads up ahead of time. Thank you for reading! And I"ll see you next update!

-M <3

If I had thought I had known what fear was before, I was deeply mistaken.

I watched as they tore away at his dignity, taking turns repeatedly striking him to the ground with their fists and their words. His eyes would not fall from my face, the cold metal of the barrel of a gun pressed into my right temple as I knelt on the ground, a threat as to what would happen if he retaliated. My bottom lip began to tremble, tears threatening to fall as I watched them pull him to his feet once more, harsh words spoken in Russian next to his ear.

A new set of clothes, along with an all too familiar mask was shoved into his hands, and he immediately began to shake his head, a hint of a snarl pulling at his lips as he spat out a refusal.

A hand grasped my hair and yanked my head back further, digging the barrel deeper into my skin. I let out a cry of pain at the sting in my scalp but fell quiet as I watched Bucky freeze in front of me, his eyes reflecting nothing but fear. "It would be such a waste to ruin such a pretty face. Don't you think, Soldat ?"

"It's okay." My voice was a mere whisper, trembling with what could only be described as fear. But I did not fear for myself anymore. I could only fear what these terrible people would do to this poor man that I had grown to care for. "It's okay."

Bucky nodded slowly, taking the clothes and slowly beginning to change. I closed my eyes, praying that this was all just a horrible nightmare. But another yank of my hair caused my eyes to shoot open, as lips whispered into my ear.

"As soon as he's done, you'll see him for what he really is."

Hot tears began to fall, watching as he slowly put on the uniform that he had prayed he would never have to see again. His straps on his uniform were tightened, his metal arm remaining untouched by the dark fabric. The look on his face when he held the mask in his hands made your heart split in two. But the nudge of the gun against your head forced him to put it on.

"A monster. A murderer. These are just a few of the words that people call him." The man holding the gun to my head let out a small laugh. "Yet you claim to see good in him."

"Because he is good." My voice was shaky but I kept talking, my eyes meeting Buckys. "Abused by an evil that I could never fathom. But he is a good man. A better man than any one of you here." "

"Well, we'll see about that." The gun withdrew from my temple, and a breath I did not know I was holding slowly released itself. Slowly, the rest of the men began to leave the room, followed by the gunman, who paused at the door and held up a sickeningly familiar red book, adorned with a black star. "I suppose you could say that this is the ultimate test to prove how good he really is."

The door slammed shut before Bucky could reach the door, desperate to rip the book from his grasp. His metal hand slammed into the door, leaving a sizable dent in it. He remained there, still for a few moments before his body began to tremble.

I rose from the ground and moved to stand behind him, wrapping my arms gently around him and resting my forehead against his back. My heart ached with each broken sob that escaped his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Bucky..." my voice was thick with tears as I leaned back, and gently pulled him to face me. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I pulled you into this. It was selfish of me to love you, and now your life is on the line." Bucky's eyes were rimmed red with tears, and I gently reached up, pulling the mask free from his face and letting it fall to the ground.