A/N: So I was on the airplane with no internet headed home today when this song came on my phone, and I was just taken with the lyrics. Apparently, I love to make our poor little bean suffer from angsty song fics.
Your relationship with Bucky was anything but normal.
From the moment you stepped foot in the compound, you could feel something there.
He felt it too.
Once.
Lovers
The two of you immediately ended up in each other's beds. You hadn't even been there for a full week before he had his hands on you.
Your sexual chemistry was off the charts. That man could play you like a fiddle and you, him.
He would use his metal arm on you sometimes, something mutually beneficial to you both. You didn't think you could ever see yourself as anything but a weapon ever again, but the way he would touch you, the way he would look at you, the way he would come apart inside of you…well, he showed you that you were something to be intensely desired after all. Similarly, you helped him. How you would keen when he touched you with the cold metal of his left hand he surged with confidence. You gave him new images to focus on when his arm would keep him up at night. Instead of seeing the misery the damn thing had inflicted, he would think of the obvious pleasure it brought you and the look you gave him as you came apart on the digits.
On missions, you worked as a unit. You could tell what the other was thinking without so much as a word. Your fighting tactics meshed perfectly, and together you were one lethal weapon.
You complimented each other well, two parts of the same whole, a team. A couple.
That is until you weren't.
Friends
Neither of you could pinpoint the moment you knew, but it was obvious to both of you that it wasn't working anymore.
The break was clean, and you remained friends.
Nothing really changed except for the level of physical contact and intimacy.
You were still the first person to talk him down from his night terrors, and he was the first to pull you back to reality when your scars ached with the pain of your past.
Your playful banter could be heard anytime the two of you were together. On missions, you would compete with the other, seeing who had the most kills or who completed their objective first.
The cuddling was gone on movie nights now, but in its place came funny faces and stupid puns from your separate couches.
You could count on each other for anything except that intoxicating sexual energy the both of you had come to know.
Despite this, you stayed the best of friends.
Until you didn't.
Strangers
This shift was more apparent than the last.
You still lusted for each other and seeing the other smile, laugh, and just know that you couldn't be an 'us' anymore drove you even further apart. It was him who stopped laughing at your jokes, stopped coming to your aid in the middle of the night.
You knew it was all over the night you heard him screaming in his sleep and ran to his aid only to be met with a locked door.
He was a stranger now. A ghost that would pass you in the halls, only acknowledging you if you were lucky. You were told to move on, and you tried.
It took a while, but eventually you stopped crying every time you met those endless blue eyes. Eventually, the hurt would just echo through you hollow body, but your eyes wouldn't give you away. You had no tears left to cry.
Denial
Your missions suffered from the disconnect, your once well-oiled machine rusting before you very eyes. The two of you became clumsy, reckless. The night that you ended up in Helen Cho's win with a chunk of your thigh missing was the night Steve pulled you out of Bucky's unit. Your commander and friend smiled sadly at you, trying to help. 'time will heal.' he said.
You knew better.
You stopped noticing him, you told yourself, but that was a lie. You wanted to pretend that you couldn't feel his very presences minutes before he entered a room. Wanted to pretend that you didn't know what kind of mood he was in based on something so small as which eyebrow was higher.
Drift Apart
It had been months since the last time you talked when he brought a girl home. She was cute, dainty, and sweet. Nothing like the hardened assassin you were. Your muscles had been beaten into you through rigorous training, her curves were soft and smooth.
His eyes met yours when they entered the room, the sound of doors pulling your eyes from the pages of your book. There was a hollowness in their abyss, a hollowness that was reflected in your own.
Your heart shattered at the sight, seeing his silver fingers wrapped around her long, manicured ones. You felt everything inside of you break, melt away until there was nothing left. You wanted to scream at the heavens, at him.
Instead, you turned your page, granting them a retreat to find solace in each other.
The sounds she made that night would haunt your dreams for days.
Wait For a New Start
You wanted to do the same, to go out and find someone to erase his touch from your memory. Someone who would love you harder and deeper than he ever had, but you knew that was impossible.
There was no one before him, and there would be no one after him.
What ripped your heart out the most was the fact that he moved about as if nothing had ever happened, as if his very existence hadn't been obliterated.
He laughed with your teammates, went out of his way to hang out with everyone but you.
You had shut down and shut everyone out. You wouldn't speak unless spoken to, and your answers were short, pitiful things. On missions, your unit was lucky if they even heard you grunt in acknowledgment. You were a shell now, a weapon, and nothing more.
You take riskier missions, more solo work. You cut it closer and closer each time, feeling no remorse or fear. You leave bodies in your wake and become a downright terrifying agent. Steve gets very weary of this very quickly, and you become the recipient of many disciplinary punishments.
You're given three strikes after a particularly nasty botched mission, the first two going quickly after that. The third will result in your termination and as much as you wanted to say you didn't want that, the thought of not having to see Bucky every day in the place you called home was too good to pass up.
Your heart still beat for him, and no one else.
Not even yourself.
But he remains a ghost from your past. And you forget what happiness feels like.
You forget what anything feels like.
Things Die
The girls continue, some being repeat performances, others only showing up at the compound once only to never be seen again.
Not one of them looks like you.
You suppose this is a good thing, that you don't have to be teased with the thought of it ever being you ever again. But then you wonder if he every truly found you attractive and you break.
He's tugging another woman through the door when you've finally had enough. This one is the furthest from you, looking nothing like you or anything you could ever be. Her giggles echo through the halls, and it sets your teeth on edge. A particularly breathy 'oh Bucky' has your feet planted on the floor beneath you before you realize what's happening.
Beside you, Steve, Natasha, and Sam jump as you surge forward and grab your coat. You violently shove through the couple who's attached at the lips, ignoring the protest from whatever her name is and before you realize what's happening, your feet are carrying you to the air hangar, and you're starting a small jet. Along the way you've grabbed as many weapons as you can carry and have programmed in coordinates to a Hydra base that the team has been trying to infiltrate for months.
You'll Fade Away
"Y/N, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Steve's voice suddenly snaps in your ear as the jet screams out of the hangar and into the sky.
Huh.
You hadn't remembered grabbing your comms device. You chalk it up to Force of habit. Somewhere in the room, Tony is informing him of what you've programmed into the jet. "You know that base is too dangerous. Turn around now."
You ignore the command, setting the controls to autopilot as you change into your combat suit.
"Y/N, that's an order." Steve's voice is quiet, authoritative.
And you don't give a fuck.
Somewhere behind him, several voices begin to chatter. You pick up Natasha snapping at someone that this is all their fault.
You don't have enough life left in your soul to care.
You power off your earpiece as you tuck weapon after weapon in its proper holster. You call on your training, numbing yourself to any emotions that may dare flair up. Don't think about him. You tell yourself. Keep him out of mind.
Y/N fades away, a weapon takes her place.
Out of Mind
You step off the aircraft, gun raised and ready to shoot, your landing no doubt alerting Hydra to your location.
You gun down the first wave of their ground team in seconds. Emotions have held you back before.
Now you're a machine, lethal and numb in your assault.
If you've been hit, you don't feel it.
Out of Mind
The next wave you run into is inside the building, several corridors down. You hear them before they see you, their shadows a dead give away from around the corner. With the flick of a finger along your belt, your fingers find many tiny but powerful explosives.
Silently, you toss the ticking bombs their direction, bracing yourself for the explosion.
It leaves your ears ringing, blood splattering your cheek.
You press on.
Out of Mind
If you felt anything anymore, you may have felt fear as more agents come at you from all sides. Their lives end quickly enough, none of them getting close enough to cause any damage.
When you reach the control room, you're greeted by the largest man you've ever seen in your life. His grin is vile and sets shivers all through your body.
But you don't back down.
Instead, you drop the now empty firearm and pull out your knives.
He lurches at you, fast and sharp and you feel the impact between your shoulder blades. A growl rips its way from your throat, and you retaliate by swinging your blades in a fashion that Bucky had taught you when you first sparred together.
The man is obviously caught off guard, screaming as his right arm goes limp. He cradles it while watching you, throwing whatever expletives he can think of your way.
His large, blood-stained hand swiped at you then, but you're ducking out of the way, slicing through the skin and tendons. He screams once more but doesn't let up. His hits continue to land, but so do yours.
Your focus is sharp, dangerous, and you wait patiently for an opening, blocking anything and everything you can.
It's when he's lunging at your legs, hoping to catch you around the waist that you find your opening. Sidestepping his blind attacks. With a perfect swing, you're cutting through the thin skin of his throat, ignoring the blood that paints your face.
As his limp body falls to the ground, you move on to your target: the intelligence. Working quickly before more agents no doubt arrive, you remove the disrupting device from your belt and plant it in the computers.
Out of Mind
After several moments, it begins to beep, alerting you that it's working. Brandishing another firearm, you take aim at the door, leaning against the computer as Tony's device wipes the computer and sends whatever data it find to S.H.I.E.L.D. The second the tiny machine is plugged in, Tony is able to pinpoint your location, and just like that, your comms are back on.
Gun shots ring throughout the halls, and you realize quickly that you're not alone. You should've known someone would follow you.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Out of MindOut of MindOut of MindOut of
Bucky
Your breath is punched from your body at the sound of that voice, the voice you hadn't heard since God knows when.
And at the moment, you become aware of everything.
You're aware of the dead bodies surrounding you, you're aware that you had set out on this suicide mission in a fit of rage, but mostly you're aware that the blood drenching your uniform isn't just from the men you've killed.
A nauseating wave of pain wrenched through your gut, effectively forcing whatever was in your stomach up and out.
"Y/N, where. are. you?" Bucky's voice repeats as the world sways around you.
"Control room." You manage, pressing your palm to the oozing gash on your side. Breathing becomes a chore, but you keep your gun raised. Your finger itches at the trigger, heart leaping in your chest when a large form comes bounding through the doorway, Steve hot on his heels. Sad blue eyes meet yours and before you can process what's happening your legs give out beneath you.
Strong arms catch you, cradling you to a familiar broad chest.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" He growls into your ear, arms gingerly resting you against the very computer you were hacking. When his fingers brush strands of matted hair out of your face, you flinch as if shocked and snort shortly.
"I wasn't." You lie easily, opting for this answer rather than the truth. The truth that all you had been able to see were flashes of you and Bucky together. Then flashes of him in your bed, in his. But then it wasn't you anymore. You saw various shades of hair spread across his sheets as you fired at anyone who stood in your way. "I've lost a lot of blood." You admit robotically, finding it hard to look him in the eye.
"Y/N, why? Why did you hit this place alone?" He hisses, large hands taking the place of yours, applying a stronger pressure than you were currently capable of on the oozing wounds.
"You care now?" You snap, but everyone can hear the fire is gone. Your words hold little bite even though you feel like your heart is about to beat right out of your chest.
"Y/N, I've always cared." You laugh at that, a humorless sound that is choked by the blood that bubbles up through your lips. "Shit." He mutters, glancing to Steve. "You're gonna be ok, Doll."
You're not sure who he's trying to convince.
Keep Lying, Say I'll Be Ok
"Could've fooled me." You giggled. Giggled. God, this was worse than you thought. With one look, he'd torn down the walls you've spent so long building back up. You credit the whiplash emotions to the blood loss. "Thought I stopped mattering to you the second I didn't spread my legs for you anymore."
"That's a god damn lie, and you know it." The ferocity in his voice takes you back, but you're fading too quickly to fight him on it. "I have always cared, Y/N. That never stopped being true." Gingerly, his fingers swipe at your lips, attempting to smooth the blood away.
"Then why did you leave me? Why did you fucking shut me out?" You sob, salty tears mixing with the blood on your cheeks. "Why did you watch as I crumbled right before your eyes?"
"I didn't want to hurt you." Another bitter laugh surprises both of you. "I was trying to protect you."
"Big fuckin help that was." You gesture weakly to where his fingers had soaked red from your wounds.
"Well, if you hadn't run off -"
"And done what, Bucky?! Watch as you slept with half of New York while I still loved you from afar? Let myself continue to die day in and day out? How was I supposed to live with that?" Chapped lips press against your forehead and effectively silence you.
"You still love me?"
"Of course I do, you moron. I never stopped."
"You were supposed to forget about me…" If you could still lift your hands, you would have actually slapped him.
"Are you out of your mind? How do you think I could ever forget you or what we had? How could I ever be ok after I lost everything I cared about?"
"Because loving you was too dangerous! I couldn't keep putting you in danger like that! How was I supposed to know you were going to try and get yourself killed?"
"You may as well have pulled the trigger yourself, James." You hiss and note that this is the first time you've ever called him by his real name in anything but pleasure. Your heart aches at the realization.
Maybe it aches from the way he's looking at you like his whole world has fallen apart.
Or maybe it aches from the way it's running out of blood to pump.
"Doll, I had no idea it meant I would lose you like this. If you couldn't be mine but you could be safe…I could live with that. But this…"
Are You Kidding Me?
"Makes one of us." You whimper, watching as your vision clouds at the edges and your eyelids begin to droop. It feels like you've been up for years and sleep is calling your name.
"No, Doll, you can't. You can't leave me. I need you. I love you! Don't you dare die on me!" A soft hand cups his cheek, and as the moisture pools in your palm, you realize he's been crying as well. You should've seen that, but then your eyes were failing you. "You'll be fine, you'll be fine, you'll be fine…"
How Can You Say I'll Be Alright?
Everything was failing you.
"I died a long time ago, Bucky." Your breathing hurt now, lungs screaming as you pushed yourself fully into his arms with what little strength you had. "You kept my heart in your pocket, I never got it back." You slur lamely, and you're not even sure if he can understand you. "We were happy, weren't we?"
"Yeah. We were. You've got my heart too, y'know." He admits, his nose brushing your own as his eyelashes tickle your skin. "Doll, I have never stopped loving you. Don't think I ever will." You cast your eyes up to his face, a fresh wave of tears punching the air out of you. You know what's coming, know that in just a few moments you would never see this face again.
He knows it too, that much is evident on his sorrowful features. He's accepted the very fact that you have come to grips with as well.z
You're In Touch With Reality
"Oh Bucky, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me." You beg through broken sobs, winding your fingers through his hair, dragging them over his skin, his clothes, his lips. You memorize everything about him through touch the way you used to those sleepless nights, and you feel yourself slipping, but your smile remains. He loves you. Your pain is gone, you feel yourself slipping, and those endless blue eyes see you once more.
Suddenly his head meets yours, forehead to forehead, and chapped lips overtake your own. A contact you've craved for the better half of a year and your heart shutters pitifully as he cards his fingers through your hair and pulls back to look at you with those eyes.
Those oceanic eyes that tell the stories of a thousand lifetimes, of a thousand emotions. Those brilliant, cerulean eyes that would be the last thing you ever saw before you vision faded to black.
"Never. I'll love you until the day I die." Behind you, a dull beeping pierces your senses, and you sigh. It was done. The last thing you could give to them. To him. Those files safe, wiped from their database and installed safely in Stark's. "What were you even after here, anyway?"
The question is greeted with silence as you fall limp in his arms.
Done. Safe. Loved.
Every trace and every handle Hydra had on you or the man you loved were no more.
You were both free.
You just wish you could be there to celebrate with him. And as his voice screams out your name into the silence, you know he wishes the same thing.