Death Where is Your Sting? - B. Barnes

Chapter 31

AN: Mentions of suicidal thoughts toward the end of the chapter. Nothing happens and there's nothing graphic but if you're sensitive to it. Summary at the end if you choose not to read.

As promised, Bucky had told Ray her favorite stories from the 40s, the Howling Commandos, his childhood. She listened, asked questions. Sam had come down with lunch later on, joining in the ribbing and stories, and Torres soon followed. It gave Bucky a warm feeling, reminiscent of...before. He was hopeful.

But that night, Bucky had jolted awake from a restless sleep, memories of Raven and the beatings he'd inflicted haunting him.

A metal hand tangled in dark curls, dragging Raven from her cell.
"I won't do it. He'll die. I'm not going to kill -"
Smack. Metal hand across her face.
"Do it."
"No."
Metal hand on the back of her neck, slamming her face into the table. A crack. Blood from her nose.
"Comply or suffer."
"Screw you."
"Soldat, teach her a lesson."

The last thing he'd seen was her bloodied face, eye swelling shut, clutching her ribs, spitting blood on the floor as her eyes glazed over at the pain.

"Are you okay?"

His eyes snapped to Ray. She was kneeling on the floor a few feet away, arms wrapped around herself, nervous. Her face - he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and blinked rapidly to clear the image from his mind. "I...uh...no. Not really."

"I'm...sorry." She said it was as though she couldn't recall ever apologizing before.

"Not your fault."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Hell no." Not with you.

"Is there...can I help?"

Bucky studied her face. Seeing her here, now, unmarked by his hands, helped to ground him, but the guilt...the guilt was like a black hole, sucking him down to a pit of despair. He sighed. "Nah, I'll be fine. I'm sorry I woke you. You should get some sleep. It's - " He glanced at his phone. 4:00 a.m. "-still really early."

She nodded, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes.

And then he felt the slightest touch on his arm. He glanced down, finding Ray's small fingers resting on the back of his hand. The hand that he'd - He gulped down the memory.

"Thank you. I - " His eyes met hers. "For earlier? When I - " She shivered at the thought of her dream.

"Anytime, doll." He gave her a half smile. "Glad I could help."

She nodded. A beat passed, and then she yawned. "Sorry."

Bucky chuckled. "Why don't you get some sleep? I won't wake you again. Promise." He wasn't planning on sleeping.

"Hm. Well, good night - " She paused, unsure what to call him. Soldier? No. "Bucky."

"Night, Ray."

She crawled over to the mattress on the floor, and Bucky laid back down, waiting for her breathing to even out and settle into sleep again. Once he was sure she was sleeping, he sat up, resting his back against the cold wall, grounding himself. But he let the images of her broken body flash across his mind, let the guilt consume him.

Once the sun was up, Bucky rose, finally ready to clear his head. He needed some air, needed to shower and try to wash away the memories.

~<>~

Black chair
Tight straps
Bright liquid flowing through an IV
Electricity coursing through her brain
A scream
"Name?"
"Reaper."
"Mission: Kill the Winter Soldier and Captain America at all costs. Do not fail."