Because of Her

Chapter 1

"Bucky? Bucky, can you hear me?"

A pair of sapphire blue eyes edged open slowly. Where was he?

The man tried to sit up, but something was restraining him. He glanced down to see several metal bars holding him against a cold surface. He pushed at them with mismatched arms, but they held fast, immovable. He was trapped.

Mismatched arms? The man stared at the flesh and bone of his right arm, then to the silver metal of the left. Testing it, he moved the fingers. They moved as if it were the real thing. That's odd, he thought, twitching the muscles in his real arm.

"Bucky?"

The dark blue eyes snapped up to who had spoken.

A blond young man, probably in his mid-twenties, stood above him. He was devilishly handsome, and looked as if someone had created him. He was familiar, too, like a long lost friend, but no matter how hard the man tried to think, he couldn't remember where he had seen him before.

"Who is Bucky?" the captive man asked with a low growl.

Pain flickered behind the blond man's bright eyes. "You are James Buchanan Barnes, but I've always called you Bucky. Don't you remember?"

"I am... Bucky?" the man asked, eyebrows kitting together.

"Yes," The blond man sighed in relief. "You are Bucky."

Bucky. Hmm. It sounded foreign, but familiar like the blond man at the same time. "Then who are you?"

"My name is Steve. Steve Rogers. We are best friends, Bucky. Don't you remember anything?"

Bucky tried to think. He tried to swim through the blackness of his memories, trying to find any clue as to who he was.

"No..."

There. A face.

"Something?" Steve asked hopefully.

Bucky nodded once and tried to focus. His head began to ache, but he ignored it. It was a woman- no, a girl, really. She was young, and although her face was still a bit blurry, Bucky could tell she was beautiful. Was it simply the fearful, heavy thumping in his chest, or a true memory trying to surface?

"A young woman," Bucky struggled to find the words. The dull ache in his head had become a sharp pain in his temple. "She's... important."

Steve's shoulders sagged slightly as if he already knew the answer. "A woman? Who is she?"

Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to the edge of memory. The image gradually grew clearer, and he could see her (h/c) hair pulled back and braided, an intelligent half-smile gracing her face. She wore a long, satin blue dress that hugged her form. She was more than beautiful; she was nearly a goddess.

"(Y/n)!" Bucky gasped at last, his head feeling like it was on fire. His eyes opened to Steve, who was watching him carefully. "Do you know her?"

Steve sighed, and another flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes. "(Y/n) is probably already gone, Bucky."

"Already gone? But she's so young!" Bucky threw himself against the bars still holding him down.

Steve wetted his lips nervously, contemplating telling Bucky. The poor man had no memories, why should he hurt him with these? The fact was, he had no memories, and he deserved to know.

"(Y/n) was a friend of ours back before a war. We served, you and I, in the war. Does that trigger anything?"

Bucky let his mind wander in the darkness again, trying to pick up any information he might recover. Something was there, and he tried to explain it as quickly as possible. "Water. There's no edge to it, it just lasts forever. Its somewhere up high, and it looks cold." He stopped abruptly, panting from the strain. "Tell me more about (y/n)."

Steve nodded. "We were at a party, and you were drunk. All the ladies were hanging over you, but one girl in particular caught your eye." He paused. "Her name was (y/n). I remember her wearing a blue dress, mostly because you didn't shut up about it for the next two weeks.

"I think she caught your eye because she didn't hang over you. In fact, she seemed to avoid you. You didn't like that." Steve chuckled, lost in the memory Bucky no longer had. Bucky had the feeling, he realized, of a girl just out of reach, even if he couldn't remember the experience itself. "Eventually, you cornered her into talking to you.

"Two minutes later, she slapped you, and left. I don't know what was said, but you came back laughing. 'I like her,' you said. 'She's got spunk, doesn't she?' I said, 'I see that. I also saw that slap she gave you, Bucky.' You only laughed more. I think it was that she hit you that made you fall in love with her."

Bucky sat in thought. "When I saw her in my head, she had on a blue dress. Do you think...?"

"Do I think its the same? Probably. That was your first memory of her; I wouldn't doubt it would be the first for you to remember.

"A few weeks later, you had dragged me to yet another party, and again, girls followed you around. You didn't even seem to care. You were looking for the girl from the other party.

"It was late, and I had finally convinced you that we should head home, when you found her. I practically had to drag you out, but not before she saw you.

"You tried to talk to her again, but this time, she didn't slap you; she poured her drink down your trousers. Somehow before that, you got her name, and you wouldn't stop mumbling it the entire way home."

"Did I love her?" Bucky asked, trying to lean forward.

"I can't answer that. Some memories need to come back on their own. I probably shouldn't have told you that to begin with."

Bucky tried to lean forward again, but the restraints held him back, unyielding to his need. "Did she love me?"

"I can't answer that either. I have to let you at least try to remember a little." Steve sighed apologetically.

Bucky groaned, throwing his head back against the surface he was strapped to.

"I'm sorry, Bucky. I know its difficult, but I need to you bear with me, okay? We can get through this, together."

Slowly becoming numb to his emotions, Bucky only nodded. Hoping Steve would get the idea, he closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the world. Or at least what little he knew of it. He heard Steve sigh quietly, then the blond's chair squeak as he stood and left.

Bucky was alone.