Reading Your Mind

a date?

I took a swig of beer. James did as well. He seemed familiar, like someone I had known before.

Before as in the 1940s. I had been living a normal life, then had gotten abducted by the red room. My father and mother had had experimentations done on me, and it resulted in me gaining magic. Wanda Maximoff was on TV one day, and she apparently has powers just like mine, except hers are red instead of purple.

Anyway, one day I had gotten fed up so i accidentally blew up half of the facility. Then I was drugged and moved to Hydra. Hydra also did experiments on me, then one day after I had massacred almost everyone, they managed to knock me out. When I woke, I had gotten the drug that had made me go on a killing spree out of my system. Then I tried to escape, whig resulted in me being put in a cryo. When I was freed from that I killed everyone with toxic gas and escaped into hiding. When I had found out Hydra had fallen for good, I slowly ventured out into the world.

I notice James is wearing a glove. Just one, on his left hand.
"Tell me, James, why do you wear a glove?" I ask. James lifts his hand and looks at it, turning it.
"I, ah," he replies, then looks at me. "I have poor circulation." He nods, then looks back at me. He then picks up his beer, which sounds with a *tink*. I look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"We both know that isnt true." I say slowly. James smiles ruefully. He doesnt say anything.

After about two minutes, James smiles again, leans forward, and sets his beer down. He glances around the room, which, of course, is empty. He purses his lips and sighs nervously. He grabs the fingers of his glove, then hesitates and looks at me pleadingly.
"Please, please, please, dont freak out." Then he slides his glove off. In place of his hand is a metal prosthetic. My eyes widen.
"Whoa," I breathe. "That is so cool!" I laugh. James's face seems troubled. Then he chuckles. He leans back and we make small talk for a few minutes.

He falls silent. We sit in conpanionable silence for a few minutes. I lean forward and stare intensely at him, trying to concentrate. James laughs.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"Reading your mind," I say mysteriously. James looks down.
"Please dont." He says softly. I slip in a second too late. I try to pull myself out, but his memories flood over me, trapping me.

I see a woman with red hair who has a bullet in her shoulder. I see a man walking towards the memory, then a painful backhand slap to the face. Excruciating pain in the memory after terror and anxiety and fear collide. Then as I push myself out of that memory, I see a reflection in glass as frost crusts the cylinder the memory is in.
"Sargent Barnes," I hear, as pain in the left arm is blinding. Freezing temperatures and voices and scientists. Then a metal arm on the shoulder. I quickly move out of that memory, trying to fight my way back out. Countless fights and people shot. Dead bodies. Hail Hydra. I let out a sob, seeing that James did not have a choice about who he killed. He was a prisoner in his own body. I wrench myself out of that memory. I cry out as the next memory is of falling. From high up. A train.

"Bucky! No!" Echoes in my ears. I race away from that memory, trying to put distance between that one and me. I hear James calling my name in a panic. I follow it, when something catches my attention. I see a hovering car. And Howard Stark. I jump towards it. I see Howard presenting a car. I see a young James with a two girls and a scrawny boy. Then I look over the crowd, searching for a brunette. Then I see her. In a dark blue dress. Me. I search and go back into his memories farther, ignoring the calls for me to snap out of it. I go into a faded, old memory. It is of a blond boy who looks to be a much younger version of the scrawny boy from the last memory. They are playing ball together. Then as I try to go on to the next memory, I feel as if I have hit a wall. The last memory. I travel back, and pause as I see the military and guns and a prison. I see tests being run on James. I whimper as I turn away and sprint back through, listening to James voice. Then i see the memory again. At the Stark Convention. I see me. I see Bucky. That was decades ago. In fact, if this is the James from the present, then it isnt James. I growl and turn back, gritting my teeth. It has to be here somewhere. I search for what seems like hours until I find what I am looking for. A little boy knocking on the door of a house. A little girl opens it. She converses with the little boy. Apparently she is a new neighbor. I see me. I am the little girl. I concentrate as hard as I can. And, without moving to a different memory, watch a time lapse of me and the boy get a little older. Then soon I moved away with my family. The war. Then I see James being captured. Tested on. Falling off a train. Getting a new metal arm after his real left arm was destroyed in the fall. Fighting a black super soldier. Losing a portion of the arm. Killing dozens of people against his will. Going to a strange place called Wakanda after losing his metal arm in a fight with Iron Man. Being put t sleep for a while. Being freed from the Winter Soldier program. Getting a new arm. Finally, I realize I have seen more than I meant so I follow James' voice back to the present.

I suck in a breath of air like I've just surfaced from water after having been under too long. James is looking at me with a concerned expression. I stare back into his eyes.
"Bucky?" I breathe. James doesnt hear.
"Are you alright?" James asks. I nod. Then I tear up after leaning back.
"The things they did to you. . ." I choke up. James looks down at his metal hand. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have invaded your mind like that." I apologize. "Let me show you something. It's. . . .hard to explain. May I?" I ask, reaching out my hand. I touch two fingers to his temple when he nods.

Then I find my memory, the one of the little boy, Bucky. Knocking on the door just a few hours after we moved in. The whole memory plays, then I move to the next one. I transmit it to James. I watch and transmit a sped up version of the entire part of my life in that house that I remember. Then I take a deep breath. I transmit being abducted, being trained, the red room, testing, blowing things up, the massacre, being put in a cryo. . . . .almost every main event of my life up until this point.

I pull my fingers back. James is still sitting there looking astonished. Then it hits me. Bucky. I was right, that's why Bucky was in James's memories. Because James and Bucky are the same person.
"Bucky?" I whisper. James- no, Bucky- looks taken aback. Then he realizes the same thing that I do. His eyes soften in the cutest way possible. He slips out of his chair and clears the two feet of space between us. He grabs my hand right hand with his left and turns it so my palm is facing upward, the metal slightly chilly. I look at him in confusion. Je slowly slides my sleeve up to my elbow. He traces a scar traveling from the middle of my arm all the way to my elbow, the one I got when I fell on top of a tin can. Then he looks up at my eyes. He twines his fingers with mine and gently cups the right side of my face with his right hand.
"Y/n." He says gently. Bucky tears up. "It- it really is you!" He cries softly. A tear slips out of my right eye the same second one drips down out of Bucky's eye. He leans forward and kisses me. I stroke his hair.
I break the kiss. He touches his forehead to mine. Then he pulls me in for a hug and holds me tightly. He kisses the top of my head and holds me tighter.
"I'm never letting you leave again." He murmurs, resting his head on top if mine.