Winters Frost - Bucky Barnes

41 - Alone With Tests

Sams P.O.V:

"So what happened with you, doll?" Bucky laid next to me on the lush bed, his head propped up by the palm of his hand as his elbow rested on the white pillow. 

I shrugged my shoulders, explaining the kidnapping from S.H.I.E.L.D, Rumlows come back and our interrogation. As I mentioned fighting Winter, Buckys face seemed to drop instantly. "But enough about me. The real question is, what were you doing, James." 

I provocatively poke the middle of his chest with my index finger, a smirk lining my lips. His eyes dropped from mine, now directed on the plush sheets and puffy duvet. 

"Doll, I went back to the Smithsonian. I just thought that going back there and looking at all the exhibits on Steve and the Howling Commandos would bring back something." His metal hand laid across his waist as his other fiddled with the sheet, rubbing it between his fingers.

Buckys voice was hushed, quiet and sensitive - as if he was afraid if anyone else heard, he would break at any second. "Did it help?" I asked quietly.

His blue irises meet with my light green ones - calmness was radiating off my body, and my eyes certainly displayed the emotion well enough. 

He shrugged his large shoulders. "Some what, I remembered more as time went on. Being by  myself I think helped stimulate my memory and all." Buckys eyes travelled from mine, to my lips, before reaching them once more.

I nod slowly, letting the butterflies erupt in my stomach - a feeling I missed all too much. "How did it feel, you know, getting the memories back?" I smile to myself, remembering our late night talks back at the house.

I nuzzle into the covers, my face meeting the cool material. I pull the covers further upwards, resting on my shoulders from the slightly chilly atmosphere. 

"It was a little surprising, because I didn't think I would actually remember so much, but it wasn't the memories that hurt getting back; it was the after math knowing that I'll never be that man again. I'll never be the same Bucky as I was before the war."

Thats when I really studied his face after he said that - the regret on his face was heartbreaking. He didn't want to be who he was, the wanted to go back, be the same. 

His stubble had grown significantly, almost categorised as a beard. His eyes seemed absent of life and happiness, the wrinkles told the story of his time - of his pain. His hair reached his shoulders, rolling off thick waves. 

Bucky was still beautiful.

I scooted closer, scooting so our chests touching and our faces inches apart. "Hey, don't you dare think you are half the man you were before, if anything, you are more. You are stronger, mentally, physically and emotionally. Seeing what you have seen makes you so unique and you've learnt more than what most people would in multiple lifetimes. Ten men couldn't amount to what you've accomplished. Your broken, but you're not beyond repair. You still push on and that, James, is extraordinary. You may not think this, but the team does, I do. You are more. You are amazing. Someone could lock me away for 20 years, and I would still love you and see you for who you truely are. James Buchanan Barnes."

Buckys eyes searched mine, trying to find any hint of well... anything. His arms snaked around mine, lifting me onto his stomach as he laid on his back. My legs rested either side of his torso, his metal hand resting on my exposed thigh while his other propped him up.

He never once broke eye contact. 

I could feel his breath hit my chest, my tank top not doing enough to cover me. His chest rose and fell withe each breath he took.