James Barnes OneShots

Tell Me You Remember Me - Part 1

Words: 1433
Might do Part 2 idk

———————-
The apartment door opened and closed, the familiar voice of Bucky Barnes echoing into the kitchen. "Y/N? I'm home." You left the stove top and walked to the door, Bucky hanging his coat and removing his shoes.

"You're home a bit early." Bucky looked up and smiled, bringing you into a hug.

"I couldn't wait to get home and see you today. And I'm absolutely starving. What have you got planned for us tonight?"

You left the embrace and made your way over into the small kitchen, pulling out a piping hot dish from the oven.

"Mm, my favorite," Bucky hums, helping set the table. Before long your sitting and eating with the love of your life, talking about anything and everything that came to mind.

Once the dishes and table were cleaned, you both settled onto the couch in the living room, you bodies relaxing in each other's embrace from the exhaustingly long day. Clicking on the show you've both been watching, the dull sound of booted feet sound from your bedroom, startling you slightly, Bucky sitting up at attention.

"What the hell was that?" He grumbled, not wanting to go and investigate. But his curiosity and past catching up to him go the best of his actions.

"What do you think it is?" you whispered, standing and tossing your blanket aside as the former Winter Soldier grabbed a hand gun stashed away in a drawer. He loaded the pistol and walked towards your bedroom door with much practiced stealth. Bucky motioned for you to hide, hand hovering over the door nob. You hustled soundlessly behind the kitchen island and crouched down, praying to the Lord above it was just a thud from your neighbors. You listened to the door click open and Bucky's footsteps, not expecting the next noises.

Gunshots sounded and multiple footsteps pounded against the floor, grunts and yells coming from the room Bucky entered. You jumped up and turned around. Yanking the utensil drawer open and fumbling for the spare pistol kept there, you raised it up to find a man standing across the island. He had multiple guns strapped on his back and thighs, and a red octopus with a skull stamped on his chest. Hydra. Of course they just had to break in. The man raised one of his many weapons up, unbeknownst to you, distracting you from yet another agent on your right. A needle was stabbed into your neck, causing you to cry out. You felt fire start to run through your veins, your hand dropping pistol with a clatter as you collapsed to the ground.

"Y/N!" Bucky yelled, charging back into the living room, gun still raised and looking battered. He saw the agents drag your unconscious body out of the kitchen, and he charged forward. The agent in front shot at Bucky, the bullets uselessly bouncing off of his metal arm that was held up. The two other agents Bucky thought he had already taken care of came up behind him , slamming the butt of their rifles on the side of his skull.

Bucky tumbled to the floor in a heap, watching helplessly as they dragged you out of the apartment and struggling to remain awake.
"Y/N..." he mumbled, before everything went black.

----

"I told you, I don't know anything more about the Avengers," you argued for the millionth time, your eyes following the man in the suit warily. His suit was an inky black, freshly steamed and pressed. The shiny red octopus with a skull pinned to his lapel reflected the muddy light, taunting you, Almost like an omen of death.

He let out a sigh and looked at your broken body huddled in the corner of the investigation room. It had been, who knows how long, of the torture, threats, questioning, pain, hunger, and fear. They always threatened that they would hurt your family and friends, and that they would repeat everything they did to Bucky to you. And bring him in just to watch you suffer. This was Hydra, and you knew they were not joking. So far, only one piece of information has slipped, which was that the Avengers were on the brink of falling apart.

"I hate to do this to a fine woman like yourself, Ms. Y/N, but you leave me no choice. You seemed to have lived a good life." The man snapped his fingers and two masked guards stepped forward, seizing your forearms with vice-like grips. You kept in your cry, your already bruised and beated-up body wailing from the sudden pain.

The guards hoisted you up from the cold concrete with little effort and drug you down the hallways, your head lolling from side to side and legs trailing behind uselessly. After what felt like only milliseconds of bumping along like a rag doll, you were brought into the room.

The guards shoved your almost passed out body into the cold metal chair that Bucky had always told you about, the one that he was most terrified of. The one that destroyed his life and terrorized his sleep. As the realization of where you were started to sink in, the metal clamps locked down on your forearms, the machine letting out a low whine.

Your chest rose up and down rapidly, panic flooding your system, and you attempted to lock all your most treasured memories into your heart, not wanting to lose them. Two bright medical lights shined above you, screens and wires surrounding you. The metal headpiece locked into place, covering the right side of your head, running from the back of your skull to the edge of your nose. Your left eye and ear was covered with the other side of the metal, causing your anxiety to skyrocket.

The electricity powered on with a jolt, the most intense pain you've ever felt in your entire life rushing into your brain. Your back arched forward and a heart-wrenching scream escaped your lips, the scientists surrounding you taking notes and rushing about. Tears sprang in your eyes as you felt your mind go numb, but at the same time feeling ripped in two. The screams and tears poured out endlessly.

30 minutes later, they started.

Boom.

Boom!

BOOM!

The explosions shook the entire building, startling scientists, agents, and guards alike. They all ran as bullets poured down and the intruders broke in. They charged towards the fight, leaving you and your suffering mind in the chair.

Another 45 minutes passed until help arrived to you.

Your screams wore your throat dry, everything becoming a muddled mess. All at once, the bullets stopped and the powering going straight into your head ceased. Collapsing back into the chair, you sucked air back into your lungs, rising and falling with each intake.

"Y/N...Oh my God, please, don't let me be too late, please." A man suddenly appeared right in front of you, a rifle falling from his hands. His long brown hair was tangled and his blue eyes swam with worry. Something about the man seemed familiar about him as he pulled you into his arms. He used such care and comfort that you have not felt in what felt like years. Your tears had run dry long ago, but the quiet cries didn't.

The man collapsed to the floor with you in his lap, his arm holding your head close to his chest and a much colder arm keeping you in place as he rocked back and forth.

"Y/N, no, please, no. Why didn't I find you sooner, why didn't they take me?" he sobbed, pressing kisses to your forehead. You kept your gaze to the floor, confused as to why another agent was holding you in a comforting grasp, let alone kissing you.

The man's cries came to a halt, his demeanor shifting suddenly. "Y/N?" He turned your face to look at his, his eyes searching your face. "Do you remember me?" His voice cracked at the last syllable, tears forming.

You looked at him with such a monotone look, his face breaks. "No, doll, please. Tell me you remember me," he begged, bringing a hand up to brush hair from your face. "Y/N, it's Bucky. James. We've been together for so long, please don't let the bastards that ruined my life destroy yours."

The names sounded familiar, just out of reach. After a beat of silence and staring, your sore throat projected the words. The words that shattered Bucky's entire world.

"Who are you?"