Multi-Fandom One Shots

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier- Why Did He Have to Ruin It?

He always seemed to linger away from the rest of the Avengers, waking up at ungodly hours just to avoid having to eat with them, then training nearly all day. She would observe Bucky constantly, wondering what went on behind his eyes, in that head of his. She was one of the two people he was anything close to relaxed around, and even then he didn't trust her. The only one he trusted was Steve, and even then he was only trusting because of Steve's farmilliar face. He was so stoic all the time, so afraid of snapping.

Sometimes she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him, stroking his hair and telling him that everything will be okay, you don't need to be afraid, I'll protect you. She knew she couldn't do that though. As much as she admired him and cared for him she knew he was unpredictable, sometimes unstable. Decades of torture and mental manipulation will do that to you. He was nearly broken beyond repair when Steve and Sam found him. He had finally hit his rock bottom and needed help. He knew nothing besides doing what he was told, and if he didn't...well... Thinking for himself was an entirely new concept, and without all of the brain-deadening memory wipes, muddled memories were beginning to return to him. Bucky had a concept of who he was before everything, and the first time he recalled a full memory of him and Steve, the super soldier actually teared up.

"Yeah Buck, yeah I remember that too..."

She smiled as she watched him scour the fridge for an after-training snack. Bucky had just come to terms with the fact that no, nothing in the fridge was poisoned, but he was still cautious. She observed the cyborg as he pushed past the milk, apples, and found herself smiling. He may not be perfect, or particularly friendly at this point, but she could teach him the ways of the modern world, how to trust people again. She also hoped, when the time was right, she could teach Bucky how to love.

...

"Eggs?"

"Excuse me?" Bucky stared at her in confusion, the fridge hanging open, hand on the door.

"I could scramble some eggs if you want. I'm hungry too." She offered. He seemed hesitant, but then nodded. "Uh...s'cuse me..." She pushed past him into the fridge and grabbed the egg carten, and some cheese. She layed them all out on the counter beside Bucky, scouring the cabinets and drawers for cooking untensils. He watched as she began heating up the oven, before pouring a little oil in the pan. She waited, feeling his eyes on her as the oil began heating up. When Bucky spoke, it startled her a bit.

"Could you...uh...teach me?" He seemed a bit embarrassed for asking, ducking his head a bit. She smiled.

"Of course I can teach you."

Three burned pans of eggs later, the two managed to produce a good pan of scrambled cheesey eggs. They ate in silence and when they were finished tossed the plates and pan into the sink. The maids would wash them when they came through. The silence was a bit awkward after that.

"Can you feel anything in that arm?" She asked suddenly, wondering if it was weird. Bucky looked down at his metal arm almost as if he'd forgotten it was metal at all.  He brought his hand up and wiggled his fingers.

"No, I guess I can't. I've never noticed that before." He responded, seeming a bit surprised. She nodded and crept a bit closer to him. She was careful, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Bucky didn't flinch, so she relaxed. He was looking down to her, calculating her every move. Old habits die hard he supposed. She didn't seem like she had any nefarious plans. I mean, Bucky had to admit, those eggs were pretty stellar. He noticed she was gazing at his arm studiously.

"Can I...would you mind if..." She fumbled a little and carefully lifted her hand up, gesturing that--

"You want to touch my metal arm?" Bucky asked, confused at her curiosity. He raised an eyebrow and she looked up to meet his gaze.

"I mean...if you don't mind. It's probably really weird to ask." She slumped her hand down to her side, seemingly embarassed. Bucky shrugged.

"I don't mind. I mean, you did teach me how to make some pretty good eggs." He allowed a little smile to show and held his arm out. It's metallic gleam dulled as the shadow of her hand passed over it. She gently traced a finger along the crevices, admiring the way it was a perfect mirror of Bucky's other arm. They even added in muscle contours to give it more aesthetic. Her fingers traced up to the red star, an emblem Bucky wished he could rid himself of for so long, and she traced the outline.

"It's incredable. The way they created this. I mean, this is probably the most advanced prosthetic technology I've ever seen, and it was made in the fourties." She continued to trace up, over his shoulder, and Bucky tensed. She was nearing the scar where metal met skin. She was close to him, observing what was exposed due to his tank-top. Though Bucky didn't feel uncomfortable, he was...well...uncomfortable. No one had ever regarded his arm with this much interest. It was always either something completely ignored-something everyone danced around in conversation- or something regarded with distrust and cold glances. Both made Bucky feel like he...wasn't normal.

Of course, this didn't exactly make him feel normal either. The way she examined him. Bucky wondered when she'd have her fill. He wondered that when she was done gazing at the sideshow freak, when her curiosity was sated, would she still look at him like he was a human. Was this all she was trying to do? Just get close, examine, and get out as fast as she could? No. She wouldn't do that. Bucky knew she wouldn't.

"It's so...perfectly fitted." She commented when she got to the seam. Bucky clenched his fist, beggining to feel a bit claustrophobic and-just maybe- a little angry at her wonder. She gently touched the scarred skin, her breath puffing lightly against the metal of his arm, fogging it a little. "It's amazing," He gripped the counter when she said this, not liking one bit how she marveled over his appendage. What was once just good fun now bagan to bring back memories of the surgeries the german doctors had performed on him. "Whoever designed this, they must have been a genious."

The wood of the counter cracked, splintering under Bucky's grasp. The girl jumped back. Bucky brought his hand up and looked at it's gleaming metal plating. His sholders were tensed, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah...uh yeah they were..." He sniffed a little. "But they were more than that." Bucky clenched his fist and slammed it against the counter beside him, making the girl jump. "They were monsters. They made me into a monster." His eyes were on fire and he loomed over her. Bucky's voice was nearly yelling.

"There is absolutely nothing wonderful or impressive about this." He held his hand up, displaying the gleaming metal. "Nothing to marvel at, nothing but a freakish reminder of how much pain I caused. It's a reminder of how many people I've murdered. It's a reminder of how much they tortured me and brainwashed me." He was, to her surprise, almost in tears at this point. Bucky managed to reel in his rage though, and turned his back to her. "I would rather have no arm at all then have to look at myself every day and remember what they did to me." His shoulders shook as he struggled to control his rage. Bucky looked down to his clenched fists, the calloused skin of one hand starkly different than the cold metal plates of the other.

"No, I would rather..." He straightened up and turned around to look the girl in the face. She was near tears, with one hand slightly outsretched to him, as if she wished to comfort him but couldn't bring herself to do it. Bucky felt so stupid. She didn't know, she wasn't trying to hurt him. She was only curious after all. He'd snapped and he'd terrified her. Bucky felt more hoplessness crush around him, and hung his head.

"Bucky...I..."

"I'm sorry." The former assasin was completely deflated. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you." He reached out his metal hand, but too quickly. He noticed her shrink back a little, and he became angry with himself. He'd scared her. Of course he did. He was simply a monster. And to think, just mere moments ago he was admiring her as she taught him how to cook a simple dish of scrambled eggs. Bucky had felt, for a time, something akin to normal. It was blissful. And she...well, she was beautiful. He winced and dropped his hand back at his side, averting his gaze from hers.

Why did he have to ruin it?