epiphany. (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter Two

" Tell me, who's gon' save me from myself

When this life is all I know?

Tell me who's gon' save me from this hell?

Without you, I'm all alone."

~*~*~*~

Washington DC. April 2014.

The Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian had been open for only a few weeks before the HYDRA Uprising. It contained numerous artifacts and memorabilia from Captain Steven Grant "Steve" Rogers' life including his early life, Project Rebirth, the Howling Commandos, and how he saved the lives of millions by downing the HYDRA bomber Valkryie in the Arctic. You had been here a few times before. Your grandfather would often tell you stories of the Captain and his Howling Commandos and their missions to destroy HYDRA bases throughout Europe. Your grandfather had since passed away, and seeing his stories come to life had brought you comfort.

You also knew that the exhibit had a big section dedicated to the memory of Sergeant James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes, lifelong best friend to Captain America who was "supposedly", tragically killed in action during a mission to capture the HYDRA scientist, Arnim Zola.

~*~*~*~

You had woken up early to shower only to find James asleep on the floor, no pillow or blanket. "The couch looks like it has been slept in though," you thought, "maybe he just fell off of it and didn't wake up." He looked peaceful. His breathing slow and even. You noticed the smaller cuts on his face were pink and smooth and his bruises looked faded. You knew he had been experimented on during World War II but you didn't fully remember to what extent. All of your files on The Winter Soldier were still on your laptop at the Triskelion. In an effort to escape as quickly as possible when the Helicarriers started firing on each other and HYDRA agents made themselves known, you had left it on your desk.

You showered and dressed in a sweater, jeans, and sneakers. Despite the noise from your morning routine, James had yet to wake up. Part of you wanted to let him sleep, but you knew he would be eager to learn more about his past and the Smithsonian closed in the late afternoon. You knelt beside him and shook his shoulder lightly. "James," you said softly, "we need to leave soon if we want to have enou-" His eyes shot open. His metal arm shot up encircling your wrist in a vice-like grip as he quickly sat up. "Whoa!" you exclaimed trying to back away but fell back on your ass, "Hey, hey, it's just me, Y/N! You're safe!"

His eyes flicked around the room and blinked a few times when they landed on you. "Y/N?" he whispered. You nodded and his breathing slowed holding your gaze for a few more moments.

You watched fear and confusion fade from his deep blue eyes and his face relax. His gaze just as intense as when you met him, but not in a threatening way. The word opia came to mind. It was like his eyes had a story to tell. You almost wondered what he saw in yours. Your wrist pinched from his grip. You cleared your throat, "Uh, can I have my hand back now? I kinda need it to play piano."