Marvel Imagines ;)

steve/bucky - control

Joining SHIELD had been a choice made out of  desperation.

After New York, and the horrible chain of events that swiftly followed it, you needed to be kept in check, and SHIELD had offered that to you. It was a place to learn to control your strange new abilities. A place that would keep you safe, and, most importantly, hidden from the unwanted gazes and slippery clutches of those who, as Fury had said, wanted to use you to bring more chaos into an already chaotic world.

So, yes. You had joined SHIELD. You'd accepted that your life since Loki had hit you with a blast from that damned sceptre—and the power within had bonded with your DNA—was eternally different. What you hadn't accepted—or rather expected—was to be thrust into the open arms of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, who now called themselves the Avengers, after only two months of training. Fury liked doing things like that, you had learned. For a man who had eyes and ears everywhere—a man who was always prepared for war but never sought it—he seemed to find joy in fixing broken things. Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark... Hell, even Steve Rogers—the golden boy himself—was more broken than not.

"Y/N!"

The voice shattered your thoughts like a fist to a mirror. Suddenly you were back in the training room, breathing hard as though you'd been held under water for too long. You hadn't even noticed the blue energy swarming around you.

"Y/N!"

As though in a haze, you looked down. It was coming from you, the energy. And it was attacking your teammates when you were supposed to be training solely in physical, non-enhanced combat.

Shit.

Within moments, you reigned the visceral power back into your veins, cringing when they glowed beneath your skin. Even after six months, your power still surprised you. There were times when it took control, as though possessing a mind of it's own. You could feel it, a raging beast prowling within it's cage, waiting to be unleashed upon the world. It was hungry. And you didn't know how much longer you could keep it at bay.

"I'm sorry," you breathed when the last of the energy winked out. "I lost focus."

"Damn right you lost focus," Steve snapped, and you winced. You hated when Steve's anger was directed at you. "I thought you said it was getting better."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head.

"Damn it, Y/N," Steve muttered under his breath.

"I just... I didn't want to be a burden. This, whatever it is..." You held out your arms, showing the power roiling beneath your skin. "It's getting stronger. A month ago I could still control it, but now..."

A line appeared between Steve's brows. Guilt settled heavily in your stomach. You hated lying to him. But you knew he worried about you. You knew he cared. You didn't want to burden him further... You didn't want to burden any of them.

Steve was still breathing heavily when the damned thought crossed your mind: it would be better for them if I didn't exist.

You shut it down the moment it had arisen, but more and more thoughts had been slithering their way into your head lately. It was a voice, a terrible, sensual voice. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Steve must have somehow sensed your thoughts (he was good at reading people, you'd learned over the last few months). He uncrossed his arms. You looked down to your feet. There was a fierceness in his voice as he gripped your shoulder and said softly, "We'll figure it out."

But even as your skin felt as though it had been set ablaze where he touched you, even if—for a single moment—you felt safe, you couldn't shake the thoughts swarming your head like bees.

. . .

You hadn't slept in three days.

Rather than allowing the nightmares to dig in their viscous claws—rather than enduring the torture—you spent your nights exploring the grounds of Avengers Headquarters. Apparently, the facility was much greater in size than you had originally thought. You could run four laps around the grounds and kill two hours doing so. Or, you could climb out of your bedroom window and onto the roof as you were doing now. You lay down, staring up into the endless sky.

It was moments like this where you felt... Happy wasn't the right word. But something toeing the line of happy. Something that slowed down time, and then it was just you and the stars and the moon.

Your eyes drifted closed. Darkness plunged you into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

Somewhere, someone was calling your name. It was distant, barely reaching you as you lay within the place between sleep and consciousness.

"Y/N."

The voice was clearer now, and you felt your heart stutter when you finally recognized it.

"Mom?"

You hadn't seen her since...

"Y/N. My sweet girl," your mother spoke with a voice as soft and sweet as honey.

You scrambled to your feet. Your hands were shaking violently when you said the words you'd wanted to say to her since she died. "Mom, I'm so... I'm so sorry."

You remembered holding her mangled body to your chest, praying to whatever gods would listen not to take her from you. You'd always thought those prayers had gone unanswered, but here she was. Whole. Unharmed. Perfect.

Your mother lifted a hand towards you, beckoning you closer. You took a step—then hesitated. She was hovering a few feet beyond where the roofing ended.

"I can't reach you," you said. The cold autumn air nipped at your checks.

Your mother shook her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. She held out her hand once more.

"I can't," you whispered brokenly. "I'll fall. I'm sorry."

She shook her head again. "I will catch you."

And it was your mothers voice that spoke. The one that had coaxed you to sleep with a four-note tune for so many years. The voice that held you together when all you wanted to do was fall apart. The voice that had screamed when you were hit with that damned blast before a Chitauri soldier reduced her to ribbons.

You took another step, until your toes were off the side of the building. You shivered from a gust of cold wind, and swayed a little.

"Where are we going?"

Your mother smiled. "I know how sad you've been, little one. I know how much of a burden you are to the people you consider your friends. If you come with me, you won't hurt them anymore. I'll take you home."

"Okay," you whispered. Because she was right. You were so tired. So exhausted. You didn't want to feel like a burden anymore. You didn't want to feel anything. The wind whipped your hair around your face. Okay.

"Y/N STOP!"

You lifted your bare foot to take the last step forward—then halted. If you listen to her, you'll die. It was as though a veil had been lifted. "Wait... I don't know if I want this."

"Y/N!"

You turned, just in time to see a figure running towards you.

"Steve?"

Your mother's face twisted. Her eyes turned black as coal as a guttural voice, so different from the one that had spoke earlier, said, "It doesn't matter what you want."

A gust of wind pushed you forward.

And then you were falling.