Authors note: WARNING! Rated M for mention of self-harm and reference to past Non-Con. Bucky is battling with the memories of The Winter Soldier and losing himself.
CH. 10
Bucky was not asleep yet he felt paralyzed in his bed, thoughts racing through his mind as he stared into the darkness and struggled for breath. He thought about all that had been discussed, until his mind had wondered and he had gone blank, emotions too confusing and harsh, threating to dominate his ability to function and restrain his violent impulses. He pictured Director Nickolas J. Fury through the eyes of the Soldier. He recalled the attack on the SUV, then the sniper shots through Steve's window; all of them body shots, missing the target's head as he caught sight of Steve. Even from a distance his friend's face was familiar and distracted him from his target,... No, Fury was the Soldier's target and he is not the Soldier. Bucky swallowed back a nauseous wave as he listened to his own self-doubt taunt him. He sat up in bed feeling ill and at the same time desperate for a drink of mind numbing liquor. He stood quietly on shaky legs and crept out of his room with absolute silence, his stealth movements muscle memory that he hardly noticed.
The Sargent made his way to the communal floor, staggering into the bathroom. He was wrenching into the porcelain bowl most of Natasha's soup, and for that he felt bad. After a long while of shaking on the floor, sweating as he closed his eyes against the rush of incoherent thoughts and fragments of memory, he managed to pull himself up and stood in the dark looking at his own reflection. The man staring back at him was so familiar and yet so different, layers of masks worn to conceal his fear and pain. He glared at himself and he recognized the Soldier, dark brooding eyes over a silent mouth, words trapped deep inside, unwilling to come out. Bucky shuddered after a few more minutes of self-loathing and anger, turning away with an annoyed huff. He headed strait to Stark's liquor cabinet and grabbed an expensive bottle of Brandy, deciding that drinking would help him slow down his frantic mind. He craved the release of letting his vision blur into vague colors, soft and undefined instead of the jagged flashes of painful memory and distorted images he was both obsessed with and repulsed by. Bottle open and in hand, Bucky walked the short distance to the roof taking long swings as he went. When he opened the sliding glass door he heard a soft monotone voice from above him in the thresh hold.
Sargent Barnes, are you headed to the Roof Top Sir?
"Sure as shit am Robot voice!" Bucky muttered as he stepped out onto the roof and walked over toward the railing, taking a long pull of whiskey as he stared out over the city. He had done this more nights then not this past week, when sleep was impossible after a hellish dream or his thoughts would not stop pounding in his head, snapshots of ugly memories and disjointed feelings driving him toward madness. In truth he felt like he was slipping away further and further, struggling to hold onto himself the more he remembered his imprisonment as the Winter Soldier. His thinking was becoming irrational and narrow, more instinct based then contemplative. His urge to strike out with unbridled violence towards Steve and the others was a constant battle of self-restraint and it scared him to his core. The suffocating need to let out his immense anger and frustration found him using the punching bag more often as well, beating the inanimate object with guttural cries of burning rage and hatred that overwhelmed his ability to reason or think until he was a collapsed puddle of sweat and despair on the gym floor.
Bucky took another long swig and grimaced at his own darkness and self hatred, a desire to be done with his misery stronger then his rational mind could protest. There was something deep in the pit of his stomach, gnawing at him with unrelenting pressure. Bucky felt a sense of foreboding and anxiety building in his chest as an unknown fear echoed in his mind. It was something done to him that took away more then just his ability to control his reaction to pain or his prideful resistance, It stole from him something a kin to self dignity, a chunk of his very soul, shattering his concept of self worth. He struggled to identify the specific source, the precise memory that invoked such a powerful sense of humility and shame. The not knowing but feeling was heavy on his shoulders and he wished he could once more drift toward his blank state of being, a tempting escape from the torment of reality.
Barnes gulped at the liquor and leaned down moving a planter as he grabbing a cigarette from a secret pack Clint had bought him on request with the promise that he would tell Steve about it before the pack was through. His hands where shaking as he focused on the sensation of the smoke, watching it wind and dance from the burning embers. Bucky felt his mind drift further away from the present as sounds of Russian voices and the smell of sweat, smoke and vodka filled his senses. The POW felt nauseous again and tried to calm the racing thoughts and fragmented memories that nagged at his skull, willing him self to either go blank or focus on the present. He sucked in the smoke as if it was the breath of life and exhaled with a shattered cry as he felt increasingly desperate, needing relief from the agony of panic. He felt their touch covering him, like ghost hands of past cruelty, remembered with out knowing why, sending shivers through his skin. His minds eye refused to look, refused to acknowledge the horrific memory and left him drowning in the tidal wave of painful emotions, unable to reach the surface. Bucky was pulling on his hair, desperate for the sharp pain to bring him back from the hellish daydream of a trauma too poisonous for him to recall yet too toxic to escape.
The physical pain wasn't enough to draw him back and he felt his teeth grind as with little thought Bucky gasped, holding the end of the lit cigarette to the underside of his forearm. It was almost instant, like a cold drink on a hot day but cutting and sudden with pain, his senses sharpened and his vision honed in, focus completely on the burning sensation, attention immediately back to the present as the memory faded away and the physical pain dominated his awareness. He held it pressed against his tender flesh until his hand stopped shaking, sweat covering his brow in the cool night air.
Bucky pulled the cigarette away and flicked it over the edge of the balcony with a heavy sigh of relief as he once more felt in control of his mind and body, the pain grounding him and helping him quiet the madness even if there was never complete silence. He heard the rush of footsteps behind him and turned with alarm as Steve bolted onto the roof top in bare feet, wearing nothing but sweats and a white shirt. He slowed as he approached Bucky with raised hands as if he was trying to calm some frightened beast. Bucky bit down his resentment, aware that Steve was clearly up set and worried, unsure of his present state of mind. Bucky opened his mouth with a questioning look as his eyes darted toward the door way where Sam appeared, a calm but intent expression decorating his face.
"Hey guys,... Just enjoying the night's breeze,... over a few sips of Bourbon." Bucky offered a small smirk and a nervous laugh as he unconsciously took a step back, pressed against the rail as his eyes darted from Steve to Sam who each exchanged glances with the other.
"Looks like more then a few sips Buck." Steve sighed as he straitened slightly and took another step forward. Bucky smirked again and turned away, hastily taking another large swallow before Steve could relieve him of the bottle. He looked out over the city and as he felt Steve come up on his back left, he forced himself to remain still against the impulse to use his metal arm and fling his best friend over the edge of the building. The thought struck him with such force he shook with a violent tremor and took another swig promising himself that he would through himself over the edge before he would ever harm Steve or the others.
Steve put a hand on his left shoulder and gently pulled him around to face him, There was deep concern and love in the Captain's eyes who took in the crazed fear and guarded expression in his friends blue gaze. Bucky smiled again, a grin this time, not at all convincing as he handed over the bottle.
"Here Stevie,... been saving ya some!... Take a nip Captain, you look all wound up!" Bucky pushed the mostly empty bottle into Steve's chest and moved away, side stepping and then cutting over again to stay out of Sam's reach who was near by, watching his act. Bucky nodded at Sam and offered a lazy salute as he forgot about the red blister on his arm, skin inflamed from the forceful burn.
"You got a burn on your arm Sargent Barnes... May I take a look?" Sam asked as he remained still, his voice direct and non judgmental. Bucky looked down at the expanding red irritation then up at Sam with a swallow and ahake of his head as he headed toward the doorway.
"Bucky!... Let us see your burn!" Steve demanded as he quickly moved toward the doorway blocking his escape, the bottle of bourbon set down as Steve fixed him with sad eyes.
"Oh,... this,... ain't nothin' Stevie,... be healed up by morning!" Bucky slurred as he offered a cocky grin and shrug, his bionic hand covering the burned flesh on his arm.
"We need to see the burn James." Sam spoke with a strong tone, allowing no room for argument. Bucky glanced at Sam who was walking up from behind him, staying out of reach as he joined Steve, a look of empathy but authority at the same time. Bucky swallowed and his face grew pale, his charade over as he took a few nervous steps back, away from Steve and Sam. He let out a snort as he stumbled back toward the edge of the roof.
"Bucky Stop!" Steve demanded as Bucky turned and ran to the edge grasping the railing with a harsh breath, eyes blinking as he watched his vision swim, the colors of the lights and passing cars blurring far below. Steve was on him instantly pulling him back, one hand grabbing his elbow and the other on the wrist as he examined the self inflicted burn. Bucky tried to pull his arm away and push Steve back but Steve deflected and brought one hand up to grip his friend behind his neck pulling him in, there eyes meeting again.
"Bucky!... You burned your self with a cigarette!...Why?... Tell me why you hurt your self?" Steve's voice shook despite his best effort to remain calm, grip firm but gentle. Bucky looked away as he blinked at the tears that threatened to further blur his vision. He locked his jaw and shook his head as he again attempted to wrestle his flesh arm free from his powerful friend.
"Lay off Steve!... M'fine!... Let go!" Bucky growled low in his throat as he shoved Steve back harder with his metal arm, sending the Captain staggering into some patio furniture. Bucky let out an exasperated cry as he again headed for the door but Sam was there raising his hands slowly.
"Easy Bucky,... Just take a deep breath!" Sam spoke calmly to the visibly distressed and intoxicated man.
"Get out of my way Wilson!...I don't want to hurt you!" James snapped with a harsh tone that was low and choked, his eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.
"That's good!... That's real good Sargent Barnes,... because I don't want to hurt you either... No More Pain,... Right?" Sam asked, using the familiar promise that had often calmed the Winter Soldier when he was having a violent episode. Bucky was pacing with a bitter snarl of a laugh as he glared at Sam and Steve as he joined him.
"No More Pain?... Really?... Just because that Hydra Mutt was dumb enough to believe you doesn't mean that I got to!... No More Pain?... Everything is pain!...Sleeping, waking, eating, laughing, crying...it all hurts,... all I can feel is pain!" Bucky shouted at them as he let out an anguished cry and punched one of the reclining chairs, bending the frame completely.
"We can help you Bucky,... you just got to open up..." Steve was cut off as the former Assassin yelled in anger and frustration, hands pulling on his hair as he squeezed his eyes shut.
"Shut UP!... shutupshutupshutup!" James cried out as he felt the familiar rise of panic despite his inebriation.
"It that why you burned your self Bucky?... To deal with the pain?" Sam asked with calm assertiveness, taking another step forward. Bucky shook his head as the first hot tears escaped his eyes and he wiped at them, turning away.
"I didn't mean to...I..." Bucky choked as he again leaned over the railing, breathing ragged as he struggled to find the right words. "You won't understand." Bucky whispered as he wiped his eyes again and looked down at the fully formed blister that had burned into a vibrant quarter sized mark, deep and raw and throbbing. He winced as he ran his calloused thumb over it and hissed in pain, before swallowing and closing his eyes.
"Bucky... Just talk to us!... We can try to understand." Steve spoke with a gentle plea as he stood behind him a few feet, resisting the urge to reach for his friend.
"How can you Steve!?" Bucky choked out as he turned to face his best friend and the patient VA consoler. He was shaking as he held his flesh arm with the metal one, exposing the burn. His voice trembled as a light trail of tears decorated his cheeks. "How can you understand... when I don't?" He asked them with a heart broken sigh and a sad shake of his head. Steve swallowed and took a few steps forward, opening his arms, a look begging Bucky to accept his embrace. With another whimper Bucky took a step forward then another and another until he was resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder and he felt the strong arms wrap around him.
"We can figure it out together Buck!... You don't have to suffer alone!... Please let us try to help you!" Steve spoke with a gentle tone as he sighed and used one hand to massage the back of Bucky's hair. the other wrapped around his shoulders. They remained like that for a few minutes until Steve pulled back and with his arm around his friends shoulders guided the intoxicated man toward the door way.
As they entered the main common area Bucky stopped with surprise and then looked away with humility from the other residents of the Tower who were all awake having been alerted by Jarvis just as Steve and Sam had. The VA counselor had already come inside and told them what had happened before they turned and saw the two super soldiers enter. Bucky froze in the doorway, wet eyes large and jaw locked as he hastily pulled away from Steve with an angry snort, hands balled up in fists as he headed for the bathroom, not wanting to look at any of them.
"Sargent Barnes!... Please just take a seat so I can examine the burn." Bruce spoke with a calm professional tone as Steve grabbed his distraught friend by the shoulder to stop his momentum forward. Bucky sighed and gritted his teeth as he reluctantly stumbled toward a chair and dropped down in it with a huff, pouting like an over grown toddler as he refused to make eye contact with any of the occupants. Dr. Banner walked over toward the Ex-Assassin and sat down on the edge of the coffee table as he opened up his first aid kit. The other Avengers sat down around the room as Pepper announced she was making some lavender tea. There was a long stretch of silence and Bucky's jaw was locked, eyes glossy and wet as he stared deliberately at the ground, feeling embarrassed and angry as he breathed harshly through his noise.
"Bucky..." Steve spoke with a hesitant tone.
"Why are you all awake!?" James growled, resentment evident in his voice.
"Jarvis has been instructed to monitor the tower for any threats to those special individuals who reside in this fortress of modern luxury,... And that includes self harm behaviors." Tony responded with a relaxed tone as he laid back in a reclining chair, stocking his goatee. Bucky glanced up at Ironman and then away again his jaw twitching, eyes narrow and fixed on the burn mark that Bruce was gently putting ointment on.
"Bucky,... out on the roof, you said that you didn't mean to burn your self,... and that you did not understand why you did it." Sam stated gently, aware that Bucky had no intention of explaining himself but knowing that with the right questions they might get some insight into his motivation. Bucky snorted a breath and closed his eyes as he shook his head slightly.
"Buck where did you even get those cigarettes?" Steve asked with a sigh as he leaned forward on the couch, hands clasped together and gaze intense.
"Uh,... that would be my bad." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Steve sat up with a questioning look but before he could speak Bucky spat out in anger.
"Steve don't give him shit!... I am a God Damn grown man with lungs that heal!... If I want a smoke I will have a fucking smoke!" Bucky was glaring at Steve with immense anger, shaking as he struggled to control his urge to become violent. Steve looked at Bucky with a concerned, studying gaze, the others also aware of the intensity and emotional turmoil simmering just below the surface. Banner placed a bandage on the burn then stood up and took a few steps back, giving Bucky room as he watched the Sargent breath with a heaving chest, eyes still glaring at Steve with rage.
"Fine Bucky,... Smoke cigarettes all day if you want to,... But getting drunk and burning your self is not okay!" Steve fixed Bucky with his own calm but serious gaze, tone ridged and uncompromising. Bucky just snorted again and laid back in the chair with a shake of his head and a grimace, eyes once more off to the side.
"Can you tell us what was going on right before you burned your self?" Sam asked with a therapeutic tone, calm and deliberate. There was another long pause and then Bucky shrugged, still not meeting their eyes, jaw twitching and fists clenched, body tense despite the reclined position.
"What was going on in your mind as you smoked the cigarette?" Sam tried again as he leaned forward.
"It doesn't matter,... every one should just go back to bed." Bucky muttered and glanced at the bandage on his forearm.
"It dose matter... You didn't burn your self on accident James,... and if we can understand why you did it, then we can help you come up with a different way to cope." Sam offered with a raised eyebrow. There was another long pause and Bucky shifted slightly then glared at Sam from the corner of his eyes before shaking his head again slightly.
"It helped...bring me back,... keep me focused on now instead of..." Bucky stumbled over his words then shook his head again and closed his eyes with a huff as he rubbed his head.
"When you say bring you back,... Do you feel like your going some where else?... Your mind?" Sam asked with a thoughtful tone and Bucky nodded keeping his eyes closed.
"Can you explain that feeling,... how it starts,... what happens?" Sam spoke with a relaxed tone that was patient and non-threatening. Bucky opened his eyes and looked at Sam and then over to Steve with a pensive frown, then back to his burn.
"All these thoughts,... feelings,... some I recognize but,... the more I remember,... the less I feel like me,...I hear his voice,..." Bucky swallowed as he focused on his breathing that was heavy, his voice slightly choked.
"Who's voice Bucky?" Sam asked.
"The Soldier's,... I think,... But... it's the thoughts,... I have these,...feelings,... I don't understand and... The urge to... hurt... to fight... kill..." Bucky's voice turned quiet, broken as he glanced back up at Steve with a look of such remorse and despair that the Captain felt his chest grow tight. With sad, wet eyes Bucky sighed and expressed his fear and uncertainty, the booze letting his guard slip. "I'm sorry Steve... But,... I'm dangerous,... I don't want to hurt you,... any of you..." His eyes glanced around the room then landed back on his best friend. " But I'm scared,... I can feel my self slipping more and more,... and,... I think... I might be losing control... I..." Bucky closed his eyes tight and his lips trembled as he leaned forward covering his face to hid the threat of tears from escaping down his cheeks.
"Bucky..." Steve's own voice was full of compassion as he stood up and crossed the room kneeling down, pulling the distressed man into a hug.
"I'm sorry Stevie,... I am so fucking sorry!... I don't want to hurt you!..." Bucky mumbled with shaking breaths as Steve held him close with a deep sigh.
"I know Buck,... It's goanna be ok,... It's gonna be alright!" Steve promised and Bucky pushed away with a humorless laugh, and a hopeless expression as he shook his head at Steve.
"No Steve,... it's not... I keep trying to get my head strait,... but there's too much... And the pain,... I can't!..." Bucky sighed deeply as he stood up and paced slowly, metal hand in a fist and flesh hand twisting his short hair as he closed his eyes tight, shaking his head. Steve stood up and looked from Bucky to Sam with eyes that communicated his lack of words, asking for help. Sam nodded at Steve then cleared his throat.
"Sargent Barnes,... All of those thoughts and feelings,... they need to come out, to be worked through,...keeping everything bottled up inside of your own head is going to have you fighting for control,... and the physical pain might help you come back at first, focus on the here and now when the chaos becomes too much,... but eventually it won't be enough and you are gonna keep finding more extreme ways to keep you grounded... I know you don't want to talk about what happened,... about the things you are struggling with,... and you don't have to talk to me, or Steve or any of us about it,... but you need to talk with some one... Or I promise you this is only going to get harder to deal with." Sam offered with authority and certainty. Bucky looked at Sam with exhaustion and grief. He sighed as he hugged himself and looked away toward the windows. He walked slowly toward he glass and stared at his own reflection and the bright lights of the city before him. He placed his metal hand to the window pain and swallowed hard.
"I can't...just...talk to you folks... about what's going on...Some things,... maybe but..." Bucky swallowed again and ran his flesh hand through his hair closeting his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool pane of glass. "There's all these pieces,... of a puzzle that I need to solve,...but..." He sighed heavily and tuned around, leaning back against the glass and blinking up at the ceiling, trying to keep his watery eyes from releasing the tears that he hated himself for showing..."The clearer the picture, the more confused I get... The more I remember, the less I understand and... I don't want to know,... but I need to know!" He groaned with frustration as he rubbed at his eyes again. He looked at Sam and then Steve with a very serious expression, swallowing hard.
"There are something's,... I don't want my friends,... my best friend,... to know about..." He looked back at Sam and spoke with an apologetic tone. "I like you Sam,... and I know I can trust you... but I can hardly look myself in the mirror,... If I told you some of the things going on in here..." He pointed at his head with a grimace and then dropped his eyes with an anguished sigh, shoulder's slumped. Bucky let out a shuddered breath as he rubbed his temples and then swallowed again leaning back, folding his arms across his chest, his voice becoming hollow, gaze almost distant.
"The G men will lock me up,...When they realize how screwy my head is,... I can barley keep it together for a few hours at a time,...let alone three whole days!" Bucky scoff bitterly as he shook his head, looking away again, off to the side. "They're gonna find out what a whack job I am and then throw me in a cell where I can't hurt anybody..." He sighed and looked back up toward the others with a scowl. " And they should... I deserve to burn in hell for what I've done,... What I let Hydra turn me into!" He raised his metal hand and made a fist as he gritted his teeth, hatred in his eyes as he studied the prosthetic arm.
"No Bucky,... You don't deserve that,... you had no choice,... you tried to fight back,... it wasn't your fault Buck!..." Steve took a few steps forward with a determined expression. " And no body is going to lock you up!... I won't let them!... The only thing you deserve is to get your life back,... to live again!... I know you don't believe that,... I know your scared and confused and... Maybe it's not okay right now,... but it will get better Bucky!... I won't let anything bad happen to you!" Steve spoke with sincerity and desperation, needing his friend to trust him. With another step forward Steve spoke with a firm and serious tone. "But I need you to promise me Buck,... Promise me that you'll talk to someone,...we'll get you a psychiatrist, or a priest or who ever you want...and you can't keep hurting your self,... you wont keep..." Steve's voice faltered as he choked on the thought of losing his best friend again, expression betraying his fear and concern for his friend's welfare. Bucky met Steve's eyes with his own deep sigh. He looked around at the others who shared Steve's conviction and determination. Bucky swallowed and rubbed his face with another sigh, feeling so weary and emotionally drained, his body heavy and eyes blurring. He blinked and then looked back up.
"I will try,... to... talk,... to someone,... and... I will try not to hurt myself but... I need you to promise me something too..." He waited with a look of intensity as Steve swallowed and nodded hesitantly.
"If I become dangerous,... If,... I lose control,... and try to hurt other people,... I need you to promise that you'll take me out,... and If not you then someone else needs to before..." He shook his head with a swallow and looked up with a desperate expression, body slightly shaking... "I can't go back to a cell Steve,... I can't be locked up again..." Bucky swallowed again and the fear and pain was vivid in his blue eyes. "I need you to promise that If I lose it,... you'll let me die,... and not lock me up in some Looney bin or jail cell!" Bucky's tone was deadly serious and his wet eyes where locked with Steve.
"Bucky..." Steve took a step forward but Bucky held up his hand and shook his head.
"Promise me Steve,... If I lose control,... If I start trying to hurt other people,... I get taken out,... not locked up!" Bucky's voice was a harsh demand, gaze intense and body ridged. Steve let out a deflated sigh as tears filled his own eyes.
"Bucky,... Please..." Steve's voice sounded broken and strangled.
"I promise!..." Natasha stood up and received a startled reaction from the Captain and a steady look from Bucky. "I will make sure that you don't hurt anyone else,... and I will take you down if there is no other choice." Natasha spoke calmly and with a firm nod.
"Natasha no..." Steve objected but Sam was by him with a hand on his shoulder.
"This is what Bucky want's Steve,... he has to be able to trust us if he is ever gonna be able to let himself heal!" Sam advised and Steve looked at the VA Counselor then back at Bucky with a pained anxiety in his eyes.
"I promise too Sargent,... we will keep you safe from hurting anyone else and if it comes down to it,... We will make dame sure you won't ever be locked up again!" Clint nodded with a calm and deliberate tone.
"You have my word as well Bucky!" Bruce offered and Tony sighed as he grumbled in agreement.
"Your our responsibility Barnes,... We wont let anything bad happen to you or anyone else... We will help you keep your hands clean kid!" Stark offered and Bucky swallowed and nodded slowly, letting out a deep sigh of relief before he closed his eyes and rubbed his aching head again. He let his tired eyes drift back toward Steve who looked completely heart broken, mouth hanging open, eyes pleading. Bucky took a few steps forward and hugged Steve, ruffling the Captain's head before pulling back and holding his best friend at arms length, flesh hand on his shoulder.
"It's my call Cap,...You gonna pull rank... or can you promise me that no one else is going to get hurt,... Promise me that I will live free,... or die... but never locked up!" Bucky swallowed, eyes begging Steve to promise, needing his reassurance. With a deep sigh Steve nodded and again hugged his friend, closing his own eyes against the stinging tears and the nauseating dread that one day he might not have any other choice but to once more watch his friend die.