Steve Rogers And Bucky Barnes Images

Grumpy(8)

Warnings - talks of rape, blood, torture, needles, violence, hostage talk, corny jokes, scars, gun mentions

This one is a little shorter, but it's probably gonna be the last one 🤭🫣

If there was anything Bucky was prepared for, it wasn't this. It wasn't you screaming, pulling out the IV, and trying to stab Cho all while fighting tears. Sam never told him you were being aggressive, though all should've never doubted your survival instincts.

He watches outside the glass for a moment, breathing unevenly because there's no way he can go inside without wanting to pull you into a hug. He just watches, too frozen in his spot to move.

Bucky has thought about this since he woke up. Seeing you awake, talking softly and explaining what could've happened while he was being tortured down in the basement. He basically dreamt of seeing you smile again, the bruises around your face still present but your lips curved peacefully so much that it didn't matter.

He dreamt that you would be happy again. That you would heal and let the recovery take as long as it needed because he wanted you to be healthy.

Not afraid.

He never thought you would try to hurt one of your own. The rage behind your eyes was consuming you. Controlling you with fear as a facade. The tears break his heart some more, something he hadn't thought was possible anymore. He's been broken since his eyes opened.

Bucky finally moves when you lunge for Cho, the point of the scalpel just grazing her arm as he pulls you back to the wall, arm above your head and other being supported on your stomach, gauze spreading with blood. His ears ring as you scream at him, fighting his hold as hard as you can.

His heart breaks some more, shattering to the depths of his stomach for every movement you make, for every sound you release. For every tear you spill. He isn't sure it's pain you're feeling, or hatred or fear. He can't help but feel guilty for ever putting you in a position like this; once again held against your will.

Even if it helped you.

"Y/N," he finally whispers, even though you shout and grunt, push against his strength with no match for him. Not when you're as weak as you are at the moment. "Y/N," he says again, squeezing your wrist gently as it's held against the wall, looking into your eyes finally so you can see the desperation in his face. The clear direction that you should relax for him. "It's me, it's Bucky. It's me, солнечный свет. It's me."

Moments go by, your eyes looking into his with a sense of rage he's never seen before. Not on you at least. But he knows you're trying. You stop fighting him, hand clenched tightly around the scalpel. There's no chance of you getting out of his grip, but he inches his hand closer, wrapping around your knuckles gently.

"Give me the scalpel." Bucky keeps his tone calm, but he waits, knowing you'll be unpredictable, even with him. You may recognize him, but you don't know anything besides the hydra base. You don't know the real enemy. "It's okay," he assures, smiling when you look over his shoulder, "I won't let them hurt you. You're safe with me. Just give me the scalpel."

Moments go by, silence surrendering him to the floor as he patiently waits for you to drop the blade. He can see the contemplation in your eyes. The same eyes swarmed by tears and confusion and fear. He can see it all as your arm slowly begins to relax, hand opening inside of his as you begin to loosen your grip.

"There you go," Bucky praises, letting a smile slip the moment his finger tips come in contact with the scalpel. He doesn't hesitate to throw it to the floor, not caring where it goes as his hand moves down to your cheek. The skin is bruised, flowing up your jaw and flowering into your temple and eye. "Just relax. No one will hurt you here, I gotcha."