[Stucky One Shots and Drabbles]

The Villians That Live in my Head

                      Long  and doesn't really make sense I'm sorry. Title from Control by Halsey

           "I've grown familiar with villians that live in my head; they beg me to write them so I'll never die when I'm dead."

     Steve's heart is beating faster than it ever has, even faster than it did back when he weighed in at barely 100 pounds soaking wet when some days, he would be heaving and gasping for air by simply walking a little too fast.

He wishes he could blame it on physical exertion, but since the serum, he finds it difficult to even break a sweat.

No, this is much worse than any exercise. The battle that he's about to fight stings through his whole body, right into his heart.
Because it's not aliens or rebellious gods he's facing this time. Though he would choose both of those to duel with in a heart beat rather than this.

Today he fights with his best friend.

He's alone in the Avengers head quarters, excluding the night surveillance crew that stood armed at all times, wary of evil doers or simply onlookers that are a little too curious. 

At least, they were on guard, before Steve walked out into the corridors and found most of them knocked unconscious, a few dead.

He had froze at the sight of their bodies laying on the cold floor. His brain had began to torment him.
You should have stayed home. If you would've just stayed home, they would still be alive.

But he hadn't stayed home.

At the ungodly hour of two in the morning,  he'd awoken in a cold sweat.

It had been the same dream he'd been having for years, ever since SHIELD got him out of the ice.

Every time, he saw him. Every time, he fell.

And every time, Steve failed to save him.

Unable to sleep, he hopped on his motorcycle and drove to the head quarters.  To do what, Steve wasn't exactly sure.
Beat a punching bag, look at files, he just needed something. 

Now he stood in the cold hallways with equally cold bodies scattered on the floor.

Facing an equally cold man.

**Flashback **

                  Steve stood in front of Bucky as a nurse injected him with a needle. Just a pain reliever,  he'd been told. A strong one.

Bucky wouldn't look at him. He hadn't looked at, spoken to, or even stood in the same room as Steve since he fell..

Steve didn't blame him at all.

Steve took a deep breath as the nurse walked away, well aware that the two needed. time alone.

"Buck," he started.

"You should've left me." Bucky suddenly snarled, not even lifting his head to meet Steve's gaze.

Steve's mouth fell agape as he asked, "What?"

Now Bucky did look up, his eyes filled with nothing but hatred and malice as he spoke again, "You should've left me. Being dead sounds better than walking around like a freak with only one arm." He motioned with his head to the bandaged stub that remained of his left arm.

"You don't mean that." Steve answered, his voice wavering.

"What did you expect? 'Oh thank you Captain America, my hero?' No, Steve." His voice was raising as he stood up from the cot he sat on. "I'm useless now. Like a broken toy, no one wants or needs to around. I'm useless!" He grabbed the glass of water that sat beside the cot and chucked it, sending it towards the wall, then shattering at the impact.