Pre War Bucky Barnes One Shots

I Thought You Were Smaller

I'm brought out of my dreamland state by the sound of papers rustling somewhere near me. I crane my neck to try and see and through blurry vision and the dimly lit room I can just make out the lab coat of my current nightmare, Arnem Zola.

"W-what are you doing?" I mumble terrified as he scrambles frantically around the room.

"Leaving you to die." He pants in amongst his rush. "The experiments don't appear to have given you any physical advantages so there's no point in bringing you with us."

I cringe at the word 'experiments', remembering all the intense pain the different serums they keep injecting into me caused. They keep me strapped tightly to this table where I can't budge or ryth in agony as the poisons course through my veins doing who knows what to me. Sometimes the pain is so intense that I pass out and wake up some time later feeling weaker and sicker then ever.

I don't reply to Zola, I zone out after hearing 'leaving you to die'. I don't struggle against the restraints, it's not like I have the energy to anyway.

I simply close my eyes and sink back into the torture table, relaxed. Dying would be nice right about now. No more pain. It was obviously gonna happen eventually so why prolong my suffering?

I don't hear Zola leave, I'm already drifting off into unconsciousness, trying to remember my life, thinking this is the last of it. I'm not sure if I'm speaking out loud or just thinking to myself as I go through fragments of my past.

"Sergeant 32557-" I start to mumble but I'm cut off by the feeling of someone gripping my arms.

Terrified that it is Zola, back to inject me with something else I snap my eyes open, but I only become confused.

Standing over me is someone who looks familiar but I can't quite place it. But then it hits me.

The deep blue eyes, the tufts of blonde hair peaking out from under his helmet, it looks like Steve. But it's not Steve. This man is tall and healthy, filled out band strong. Am I seeing things?

Maybe this is it. I think to myself as I'm in a daze trying to decifer what is going on. Maybe this is my dying wish, to see Steve healthy.

He looks me over with so much worry in his eyes taking in whatever state I'm in and the way that I'm restrained.

"Oh my god." He mutters in horror.

He then moves out of my view but soon enough I feel the straps tying down my feet, torso, shoulders and wrists be released and then the man is back in my view.

Wait what? I think to myself. Is this real?

"Who is- who are-?" I try to stutter out as I reach out for the form above me.

"It's me." He sighs. "It's Steve."

"Steve?" I gasp in shock.

"Yeah." He huffs as he pulls me up.

I weakly try to help shift my weight but judging by the amount of ease he moves me with he doesn't need my help.

I stagger to my feet, gripping onto him for dear life feeling like my legs will give way if I don't.

"I thought you were dead." He exclaims sadly.

"I thought you were smaller." Is all I can think to mutter in my shock.

As Steve looks around the room one last time I look him up and down completely bewildered. Blinking to try and clear my eyes.

Is this even real? How did this happen? Is all I can think.