Saving Bucky Barnes

Chapter 3

I awoke to pain. I sighed. I must not think of myself. Bucky is the one who is half dead. I wonder what they did to him. A small trey of food was on the table. I bring it over to Bucky and force him to eat it but I don't help him. He looks at the food on his lap, to me, to the food.

"You need to eat too,"  he said.

"No I don't. I am not hungry. My stomach hurts," I replied.

He looks down and eats slowly. I don't want to make him uncomfortable so I lay on my bed. I try to think of anything to keep my mind off the pain. My ribs felt like someone had ripped them out of me. I looked over and saw that Bucky was done. I moved the trey to the table but the corner dug into my bruised area. I gasped and fell to the floor. I grabbed onto the table for support. I breathed a sigh of relief. Bucky hadn't seen me. He was asleep. I crawled into my bed and fell asleep.

I awoke to Bucky groaning and whimpering. I shook his arm. As if it was a reflex, his hand shot up and grabbed my neck. Not hard enough to choke, but I knew I would have bruises where his fingers were digging into my skin. He jerked suddenly and dropped his arm and looked at me.

"I am sorry. You were having a nightmare. Go back to sleep,"  I said.

That morning, Bucky talked a bit more then normal.

"I thought you said the machine was broken?" I asked, remembering the man saying he would be wiped.

"It is. They pretend its not. They think if they pretend and make me go through the procedure, my brain will wipe itself. I always pretend it does," He replied.

"Why did they hurt you so bad?" I asked.

"They do it to me all the time,"  he said. He looked at me for the first time sense I had started talking.

I got up and pulled him up. I looked up at his face. His expressionless face. I gently wrapped my arms around him. I felt tears slip down my cheeks.

"I am so sorry they hurt you," I whispered.

Bucky's arms lay at his sides. For the first time, I noticed his appearance. Tall, thin but muscular, sad eyes, beautiful eyes, and long hair that hung down across his face. I noticed he was looking at me too. I stood in front of him, saying nothing. I tucked my long hair behind my ear. I saw Bucky's eyes widen. I wondered what was wrong.

He reached his metal robotic arm and placed his fingers gently on the bruises on my neck, where he had grabbed me last night. I watch as his eyes slide shut in pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

He moves away and is asleep in a matter of minutes.