Bucky Barnes: Tony Starks daughter

09 - I trusted you

**Bucky's POV

"Y/N?" Tony shouted.

"What is it? Did you see her??" Steve said.

"I thought I did" he sighed.

"Should we check if she's still upstairs?" Sam said.

"She's not here cause I shouted at her earlier. Jesus I feel so stupid," I mumbled into my hands. "I'm so cruel."

"Bucky, it's not your fault," Y/n comforted.

I stood up immediately "Did you hear that?" Everyone just stared at me. "Did anyone hear that?" I questioned.

"Why don't you got get some sleep Buck?" Steve suggested.

I just looked around with wide eyes and worried look on my face. I sat back down, breathing slowly in and out. "Why was she frozen in ice?" I asked "Did they torture her?" Everyone just carried on staring, their eyes widening and brows coming together making two creases between them. "TELL ME NOW. I WANT TO KNOW!" I furiously shouted and banged my metal hand on the table, making a large dent.

Bruce quickly turned to the computer in front of him. I looked towards the projected image, he was going into a file named 'subject II'. Flashes of images and videos showed her being electrocuted, stabbed, drowning her till she passed out, injecting needles into her.

They showed the effects of the trauma. They showed her bruises and the burn marks. They showed the missions she'd been on and they showed her test results coming out.

She was just like me.

"Why did they do this to her?" Nat said.

"She was different," Bruce explained, still looking at the screen, he clicked a button turning on another video. The video showed her moving objects without even touching them and killing people without even needing to pull a trigger.

**Y/n's POV

I got back on the bike, quickly riding out of the garage, leaving everything behind me. I wish I could be swallowed up into the world and never be let back out. Everything was falling apart, everything being revealed. I just wanted it all to stop.

I slowed at a red light and turned my head to see Peters apartment complex. And with my mind not at it's clearest or finest, I decided to park up and climb the fire escape to his window.

I knocked quietly but got impatient so knocked again, putting my face up to the glass to see Peter pulling out his earphones and giving me a confused expression.

He came over and lifted the window, laughing slightly. "What are you doing h—"

I cut him off with a hug.

"Are- you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah..."

"You sure?"

"I just..." we part and I sit on the bed. "What if we ran away together Peter?"

"What's going on? Why do you want to run away?" He questioned.

"Because my life is complete shit at the moment, I need an escape."

"But what about Ned? What about MJ? I never got to tell her how I feel."

"We'll if you don't go, I'm still going."

"This isn't a good idea Y/n." He thought for a second, "What about your family? You're friends. What about Bucky? You never got to tell him how you feel."

Shit. He was right.

"Peter?" May call through the door. "What you doing in there?"

"Urrr nothing," Peter said quickly, his voice breaking in the process. "I'll be one second," he whispered, exiting the room carefully.

"Did you talk to Tony?" I heard May's voice through the door.

"Yeah um—"

"Did you do that mission?"

"What mission?"

"The one you were supposed to do after school yesterday? For Spider-Man, you don't remember much," She laughed.

"May, the powers don't effect my memory," Peter mumbled.

Peter was Spider-Man.

He slowly came back into the room and shut the door behind him. All of sudden I felt naked, like in a dream where people would stare and laugh whilst you stood in a shopping line, unable to do anything. I was still sat on his bed, my head now in my hands.

This whole time he knew about my identity and didn't say a thing.

I rose my fallen head as he walked in and looked at him with a disappointed expression.

"I know, I know," Peter said, almost begging for a minute just to explain himself.

"Why Pete? Why didn't you just tell me? And you knew who I was, my name. God Peter, I trusted you."

"Of course I did," he barely got out. "You don't understand."

"I understand completely."

I heard his calls from the window as I left but I couldn't go back, not at this rate.

I got on my bike quickly and rode back in the dark.

It wasn't long before my eyes were too blurred from tears to see properly. I was going left and right across the road, carelessly forgetting about safely.

My movement became more lazy and reckless, my mind in a totally different place. I must have swerved, or maybe it was another car, but my bike suddenly went over on its side. I felt as though I could place real from fake, I didn't even realise what was happening until I felt his fingers dig into my cheek. Hand marks of blackened ovals seemed like they'd remain and discolor my skin long after my bones had healed. They did not speak, no need to tell me not to fight, to make a sound. Their fingers did all the work. Cling, hook, crush, threatening to unhinge my very jaw if another sound were to leave my lips.

My body was already going in and out of consciousness from the pain but by now I wasn't strong enough to care.