She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for...
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ʏᴇᴀʀ: 2014
Bucky didn't like the pity as much as he didn't like being alive.
Since the moment he stepped foot into the tower he had been nothing but looked down at like he was either scum or a pity party.
He didn't like it. He wasn't a damaged puppy or a victim of abuse, as they all said, he was a killer.
So he spent months the same way he was right now. Alone with his thoughts.
He was in his room, a room with so much comfort that he thought it was hilarious that anyone felt he was deserving of it. He sat on the edge of his bed, his elbows were on each of his knees, and his hands ran through his hair as he stared at the floor.
His eyes closed tightly together as his chest grew tight.
His emotions were always all over the place. One second he didn't feel deserving of life or love or redemption.
But then the next he felt like he deserved to have been tortured or brainwashed.
He should have died - he should be dead.
He shouldn't die, but he should have been born in a different life where he could have lived his life to the full.
Steve was probably the only good thing that even happened to him during his lifetime. His best friend.
His throat tightens, as does his metal arm over his scalp.
It took a bit after he was taken in, for his mind to put things in piece by piece.
His memory came back little by little, and with each one, his psychological state only got worse.
People don't know what it was like to witness the things he did.
He remembers the war, the Nazis, and Hydra. He had been one of them. He remembers when The Holocaust happened; he remembers killing a family and a child, and he remembers the exact moment he pulled that trigger- killing JFK. He remembers it all. He remembers a different lifetime - not this. Everything was different.
He felt robbed. Robbed of life, robbed of innocence.
But then today something happened that pushed him over the edge - finally.
He had been hanging out with Steve in the compound kitchen, Steve was showing him some throwbacks on Spotify to maybe try to shake him up with some good memories when a particular song by Ella Fitzgerald came on.
Bucky went ghostly pale. And then he saw her in his head.
He remembers his little apartment that was more like a room and his iron stove where he draped his jacket, revealing the suspenders over his tight white shirt.
He remembers looking over at her and their eyes meeting.
First, it was her image, then her voice, then her name, and then every single beautiful aching memory.
