Masquerade (Bucky Barnes x Male Reader)

X | A Little Good Goes a Long Way

It had been three weeks of therapy sessions, and with each session, came more improvements. You didn't necessarily enjoy opening up about your feelings, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't nice to get somethings off your chest.

It was an afternoon to say the least, you didn't really know what the weather was like due to the lack of windows. You paced around your little room and tossed a ball at the cage that surrounded you. Christina had just left an hour ago. Usually after Christina's sessions, Bucky would come in and check on you, but he had to go on a mission. Him being on a mission made you nervous, but you weren't too sure as to why.

"What if he doesn't come back?" You asked out loud. "That's ridiculous, of course he will." You scoffed, "why do I even care? I tried to kill him, it doesnt matter if he comes back or not." You'd be lying if you said this cell didn't make you feel isolated. "But he's... a nice guy, and it wasn't his fault." That one was more so to remind yourself that your relationship with Bucky was now at least a decent one, and not two budding heads. "Why the hell am I so stressed?" Your foot tapped on the ground. You where used to routine, and without it, you became a mess. Instead of pacing around, you decided to take a shower.

This cell was different from the last. The walls where nice, the toilet wasn't completely in the open, the bed was less firm; not liked it mattered, you always slept on the floor. The mirror wasn't shattered and you had a night side stand that hadn't been smashed. The best upgrade of it all though was that you had a shower, and it was the only part of the cell that wasn't fully exposed, even to cameras.

You turned the temperature on cold, having warm showers was a foreign consept to you, couldn't stand them. Back in Germany you where lucky if you got a hot shower, even before Hydra. Now it just felt strange when the option of warm water was presented. You hung your towel on the hook just outside of the shower, stripped down, and got in. The water didn't cause goosebumps or chills down your spine, it was just like any normal person under a warm shower.

When you got out, you wrapped the towel around your waist and went to the mirror.  A bit of a stubble had grown on your face. Your hair was longer than usual, and the bags under your eyes had gotten darker than normal. Too many nightmares to get enough sleep. Even after cleaning up, your face still looked dirty and exhausted. You stared at the mirror for sometime, staring at one particular scar that ran from your left to right eye.

Fists and knives flew across the room, left and right, up and down. You stood in the middle of it all. Seventeen years old, and like a child, you where locked in your room. Well, if your room at home had multiple men with an assortment of weaponry all trying to attack you, then yes. You fought off each and every one. Most having diffrent weapons than from the last. One had a machete, he was easy. Another had a bat, also easy. There was a man with a chain, and a man with a pipe, and even a man with a gun; but none of them could take you down. Being seventeen and unstoppable made a big ego. Nothing crushed it because nothing could. Until a new man walked in. He looked at you without an expression on his face as he saw all twenty-seven fallen men scattered around the room, some hurt, some in critical condition, others dead.

You spat out a mouthful of blood. It was thick from being mixed with the dirt and saliva.

You laughed at the man, for all he heald was a six inch knife. "Du solltest jetzt rennen, alter Mann."
(You should run now old man.)

"Und warum ist das so?"
(And whys that?)

"Verstehst du nicht?" You spread your arms out wide, referring to the room.
(Don't you see?)
"Mehrere Männer haben versucht, mich zu töten. Schauen Sie sie sich jetzt an. Ein Mann hat versucht, auf mich zu schießen, aber stattdessen steckt eine Kugel in seinem Kopf. Warum denkst du, ein kleiner Dolch würde mir weh tun?"