My Name Is Bucky

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A/N: above is my chicken, Clucky Barnes. That's all

The first thing I felt was panic. I was somehow in Steve's bed, headache and all, but I couldn't remember how I got there or if the soldier had returned. I felt my chest tighten as my breaths got shorter. I sat up quickly, frantically looking for Steve or somebody who could help me.

I didn't see him in his room. I sprung out of bed and limped through his apartment, checking and double checking every room. I landed in the living room, looking at our makeshift bed and slightly panicking more.

What happened? How did I get back? Why was Steve still gone? What did Natasha do to me? Why did she take me to that museum?

The museum swirled around in my mind. The pictures and the videos. I bit my lip, already feeling the tears fall down my face.

Think rationally, soldier. Nothing is wrong. Are you dying?
No

Are you under attack?
No

Breathe.

I bit my lip and took in a deep breath, thinking of how Steve was probably somewhere else in the tower, and I shouldn't worry because he's probably fine. He's totally fine, he's Steve.

After a moment, I walked to the kitchen, looking for food as I hadn't had any since the Natasha incident. I shivered. Note to self, do not trust her. There was a small piece of paper on the counter with Steve's neat handwriting in the center.

"Went out small mission, nothing to worry about. Stay inside, please. -Steve" I read the note aloud to myself multiple times because for some reason, I didn't understand it.

What mission? Why so early? And why didn't I hear anything, any alert or alarm or meeting? What happened to me? I tapped my foot and crumpled the note up before throwing it in the garbage can. Stages fridge was slightly ajar, and I immediately felt something was off.

I looked inside the fridge, seeing some syrup, that was hastily closed, dripping down the inside of the fridge. I looked on the counter to see if Steve had made pancakes or waffles but there was nothing. No sign of baking, no sign of Steve.

I took out the small gray phone Steve had given me in case I wanted to contact him. It took a stagnant amount of time for me to type out 'is everything okay' before I sent it. My metal thumb was just too big for the bulky buttons.

I sat down on the makeshift sleepover bed and grabbed the remote. The TV flickered on with a soft glow and low buzz. I pressed a few buttons to flip through the channels and find something interesting.

There was a loud, jarring noise from the TV as bright letters showed up on the screen. Two men in suits sat behind a desk, pretending to laugh about something for a second before turning to the camera.

"Good morning I'm John Smith," the first one said.

"And I'm Walter White, And you're watching Chanel 2 news. What's the news for tonight, John?"

These had to be the most generic names in history of names, ever. I grabbed the remote and turned the volume down a few notches, so I wouldn't get hearing damage from the extremely overbearing music.

"Well tonight we do have some Super News," John said. As he did so, more weirdly bolder graphics appeared on the screen. "Let's go to Linda with the details. Linda?"

A blonde woman stared at the screen for a minute before responding to John. "Yes, hello John. I'm standing here with Captain America, aka Steve Rogers, and he has agreed to do an interview with the upcoming allegations he is being faced with."

Steve. Why is Steve on the news? I grabbed my phone and pressed the buttons to text him. He's better answer. I watched his eyes as he stared into the camera with his mask on, I could tell he was nervous, no, he was afraid. Afraid of what? And what allegations?

"Thank you for having me, Linda." Steve stood stoically, hardly even letting his chest move with his breaths.

"So, Captain Rogers, what do you have to say about the allegations that you are housing the international terrorist the Winter Soldier?"

No. No no no no no. This was all supposed to be better, this was all supposed to be fixed. What did I do yesterday? What did I do after I left the museum? My breathing caught in my chest and everything seemed to burn and swell up.

Steve looked into the camera, and I desperately searched for the familiar glimmer in his eye that told me this would be okay. "I would like to offer and official statement. I am not housing an international terrorist and I am willing to go to court over these accusations." He appeared to mouth another word, but the tears in my eyes blocked me from seeing it.

"Well there you have it folks," Linda smiled. "Don't listen to everything you see online!"

I shut it off and the words swirled around in my head. No no no no no. This isn't real. It can't be. I grabbed my bag and threw out all the contents in my search for the journal. I practically ripped it open as I read through my notes. Memories, I put them here so o wouldn't lose them again. There was a whole section made of Steve.

I reached that and skimmed through it. Hopping to find an answer to the question that I didn't even have yet. Steve doesn't lie. Steve helps people. Steve helps me.

I jumped as my cell phone rang. I dove over the couch to get it. Steve. I pushed the button, and attempted to hide my croaky voice when I answered.

"Bucky? Buck, how long have you been up?" Concern stretches across his voice. I could practically hear the wrinkles forming in his forehead.

"Long enough," I sniffled. "Why did you say that? They're gonna come for me and they're going to find out. I'm not going to make it. They're going to arrest me and they're going to kill me."

There was a pause, the only thing that let me know Steve was still there was his breathing. "I'm getting you out of this. I hired a lawyer, a really really good and trustworthy one. I'm not letting you go. Not again."

"Thank you, Stevie." I whispered as the tears dropped down my face.

****

"Sir, the plan is going accordingly. The accusations have been placed and the target has been...separated from Rogers."

The commander faced away from the man in the dark cloak. "This is faster than we expected, yes?"

"Yes, Sir."

"This poses dangers," the commander took a step to the right. "You cannot make this look unnatural. The mission is to-"

"I know the mission, Sir. It's going according to plan and if anything were to go wrong, the glitch would be eliminated."

The commander stood still. "And the Black Widow?"

"What about her, Sir?"

"She'll know. Then Rogers will. She poses a greater threat than Rogers."

"What are you asking me to do, Sir?"

"What you must."