M rating
For once, Bucky was not having a nightmare - in fact, his dreams were rather pleasant.
His dream was blurry, lacking in detail and clarity, but he had the sense of a person, a woman. She was wearing white - a nurses uniform, he knew somehow - and had dark, curled hair. His mouth was on her neck, kissing his way down her throat and he had the vague feeling of his hands on soft curves, of her hands in his short hair.
He woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun just lightening the curtains, to find a soft, warm body in his arms and a feeling of arousal tightening his groin and pressing against the material of the cotton trousers he wore to bed.
Intellectually, he knew what his erection signified; he had even felt the occasional twitch from his groin when Katherine had done things like walking around the cabin in her nightdress, or having her pressed against him during training over the past days. This, however, was the first time he had found himself truly hard and aroused. It made sense that his body would start to respond in such a way; he was now well and truly detoxed from the cocktail of mood-suppressing and compliance drugs that Hydra had kept him on that had previously suppressed any such bodily functions.
A voice in his head that he very distinctly recognised as being the Bucky Barnes of the forties told him that his current state was not appropriate and the best thing to do was to remove himself from the situation as soon as possible.
Slowly, so as not to wake her, he detached himself from Katherine and slipped from the bed. He gave her one last, lingering look, making sure she was still deeply asleep, before heading through to the bathroom, pausing only to collect clothes for the day. He stripped down and turned on the water, sighing slightly as he stepped beneath the hot, pounding spray.
Bucky hesitated, then braced his metal hand on the tiles of the shower and reached down to wrap his flesh hand around his still straining cock, groaning at the first contact. He closed his eyes and moved his fist up and down his length, acting on instinct as he tried to recapture the memory of the nurse that had awoken him. The details of his dream - memory - were hazy and blurred, and so his mind filled in the gaps; the indistinct features of the nurses' face became Katherine's, her head thrown back as his mouth moved down her neck.
He imagined removing the nurses uniform she wore to reveal the underwear he had seen their first night together, when he had stripped her and put her in the shower of the motel room. The neatly curled hair and pinned hair instead became a loose, dripping mass as he pictured pressing her against the tiles of the shower amidst the hot spray. His hand moved faster, tighter, as he imagined how he would pick her up to wrap her legs around his waist, their hips pressed together as he kissed her.
She was his, he thought as he pictured removing her underwear to touch her, imagining what her reaction would be. His girl, his to protect, his to touch, his to -
He bit back a groan as he came for the first time in over seventy years, feeling the tug of his orgasm deep within his spine. His hand moved slower now over his softening cock and he opened his eyes, noting how the fingertips of his metal hand had left tiny cracks in the tile from where he had dug them in.
He lingered beneath the hot spray of the shower for a while, lost in thought as he analysed his feelings. This had not been his intention when he had first taken her from the museum, or even when he'd practically forced her to stay with him until the files decrypted, and now he didn't know how to proceed. He had kidnapped her and despite her kindness and her seemingly being comfortable in his presence, he couldn't imagine that such feelings would be welcome on her part. After several long minutes of simply standing beneath the hot spray, he reached out to turn off the water with a sigh.
Katherine had woken to find the bed empty, but still warm. She could hear the sound of the shower running and assumed Bucky had got up a few minutes ago. She sat up, yawned and then stretched, interlocking her arms above her head, before getting up and pulling a jumper on over her nightdress in order to head through to the kitchen.
Bucky emerged from the bathroom just as she was boiling the kettle to make them drinks; the long strands of his hair were dripping with moisture and his face was closed off and thoughtful.
"Hello," she said quietly, smiling softly at him as he paused blinked at her, seemingly surprised to see her already awake.
"Mornin'" he replied hesitantly, his Brooklyn accent breaking through once more. He moved carefully into the kitchen, standing at the counter just out of arms reach; he seemed tense and awkward this morning, but Katherine was well used to his mood-swings and was unphased by the change.
"Did you sleep okay?" she asked in an easy tone, turning back to the kettle, which was just starting to boil.
"Fine," he replied, still staring at her and holding himself unnaturally still. "You?"
She hummed slightly, half wondering what it was that had made him close off this morning but also knowing that he was unlikely to tell her if she asked. Instead, she finished making the drinks and turned to hand his coffee to him, their fingers just brushing. "What's on the agenda for today?" she asked with another smile.
Bucky seemed to shake himself slightly, and when he replied his voice seemed marginally less tense. "Well I assume you'll be continuing with your code?" he said after a moments pause; she grinned in response and glanced at her laptop, which was sitting innocently on the coffee table where she had left it last night, excited to get back to it after her breakthrough yesterday. "I need to chop us some more firewood, then I thought I might do some more fishing." He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully. "And we need to go to town again soon too," he added.
She hummed again, liking the easy simplicity of the day ahead, and got started on making breakfast - her code could wait until they'd eaten, after all.
They ate breakfast and cleared up after themselves, after which Bucky headed outside. Katherine dressed for the day and finally headed over to her laptop to turn it on and get started on her code once again.
"Oh my God …" she said softly to herself as the screen woke up. She stared at it for a long moment, unable to believe what she was seeing, then dashed to the front door. She fumbled with her snow boots, swearing under her breath as she struggled to put them on, then sprinted out of the cabin without bothering to grab her coat. "Bucky! Bucky!" she shouted as she ran, following his footprints in the snow round to the back of the cabin.
Bucky was frozen with the axe he had been using to cut logs poised and ready to use as a weapon. "What is it?" he asked, his eyes scouting over her shoulder for a threat and, when he found none, stepping closer to check her over for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
She took a deep breath, the cold catching in her lungs after her breathless dash out here. "The files have decrypted," she said simply, staring at him.
There was a slight pause, then Bucky dropped the axe and took off at a run back towards the cabin.
Katherine followed, but he was much faster than her. By the time she reached the cabin he was bent over the laptop, looking confused. "What do I click on?" he demanded to know, not knowing how to access the files.
"Hold on," she said, slipping past him to sit in front of the computer to type. "I can search for files with either Sergeant James Barnes or Winter Soldier in them," she said as she quickly filtered the files. She stood up, allowing him to sit down. "There."
Bucky sat down, his gaze fixed on the screen with his eyes flickering rapidly as he read through. He was sitting eerily still, completely silent, his whole body tense with only his flesh hand shaking ever so slightly.
She exhaled a deep, shaky breath as she watched him, then slowly, hesitantly, moved into the kitchen to give him some privacy while he read.
Absently, she made another cup of coffee; she quietly put it down by his elbow, but he ignored it. She bit her lip hard, noticing that his face was getting more and more expressionless, a sure sign of danger, as he continued to read in absolute silence for what felt like nearly an hour.
Abruptly, he stood up, violently shoving the table as he did so and nearly knocking her laptop to the floor. "Bucky -" she started to say, but he ignored her, not even so much as glancing at her; he furiously opened the cabin door, letting it bang loudly off the wall as he did so, and vanished out into the snow without a word.
She dashed to the door, watching him storm into the woods. She debated whether or not to go after him, but eventually decided to give him some space and time alone. She slowly closed the cabin door once more and looked over towards the table, where her laptop was sitting innocently, if at a sight angle from where he had shoved the table.
Katherine hesitantly walked over and sat down at the table in front of her laptop. The numerous files were still open on the screen. She wasn't sure whether or not she should read them, but eventually curiosity won out. She scrolled back to the top of the files, took a deep breath, and started to read, her lips slowly parting in horror as she did so.
It was terrible.
The dossier files detailed how Sergeant James Barnes had been found half-dead by the Soviets in the icy ravine after he had fallen from the train in 1945. His left arm had been severed in the fall and they had dragged him back to the base. His severed arm had been patched up and it was considered unlikely that he would survive - they didn't necessarily need him to survive though, they just wanted his blood and other vital fluids, knowing from his dog-tags who he was and suspecting that he had the same super soldier serum that Steve Rogers had.
But survive he did, against all expectations, and he was imprisoned with the Soviets who had further experimented on him - tests revealed nothing, and it was decided that he be put in statis.
Despite them having little luck with analysing or recreating the serum from his blood, he was kept as a prisoner of the Soviets, in statis, for several years before the return of Armin Zola; Hydra had infiltrated the Soviets, bringing Sergeant Barnes' survival to Zola's attention. He had been the only one to survive the bastardised serum and Zola wanted to use him to further rebuild Hydra, even whilst he worked for SHIELD.
Bucky was revived and given his first arm in 1954, a poor and primitive prototype compared to what it was now, but an arm nevertheless - that particular file marked the start of what was dubbed the Winter Soldier project.
Major General Vasily Karpov
Head of Special Section
Department X
TOP KGB CLEARANCE ONLY
Project: Winter Soldier – June 1954
Vokov's man at MI-6, Parsifal, has proved his worth. The schematics for Advanced Robotic Appendages and Attachment he provided two months past were revolutionary. Our science team finished a working prototype and attached it to the American without incident. With the new appendage in place, clearance was given for Department X to begin work on the Winter Soldier Project.
With the project underway, Bucky's memories were wiped for the first time.
It was an imprecise and painful art; the scientist who had written the report she was reading theorised that the only reason his brain wasn't fried, leaving him in a vegetative state, was the bastardised version of the serum that Armin Zola had given him.
The file even included transcripts as they'd tested the effectiveness of the memory wipes, the plain typed letters belaying the agony he must have felt as Bucky begged them to stop.
It took numerous wipes, constant recalibrations of the machine, but it eventually got to the point when he couldn't remember his own name - even then it took several more adjustments of the settings before he stopped screaming for Steve Rogers.
With a blank canvas to work on, then came the brainwashing, encoding commands and trigger words into his brain - the trigger words were not recorded in the files (something that Katherine was relieved to read, realising that anyone who could access the files would have been able to use them against him) since Major General Vasily Karpov kept those written in a separate red book. They had complete control over him and he submitted to additional training and drills without complaint. They didn't hesitate to use him as the weapon he had been made into.
She continued to read and was surprised to find that their control over him was not as complete as they'd hoped.
Project: Winter Soldier
Scientific analysis, 7 June 1957
A comprehensive mental evaluation of Codename: Winter Soldier was conducted over the course of the past week. Diagnoses are varied, but most in Dept. X Science Team believe that his mental state is becoming unstable. In the three years since he was awakened from stasis, it appears his mind is seeking to fill in the holes in his memory, or possibly rebelling against the implanted programming he received originally. The subject has recently begun to exhibit more than usual curiosity, even to the point of questioning orders from superiors, and once in the past month, he attacked a fellow operative, nearly killing him. On interrogation, he could not explain his actions.
One theory is that just as he has reflex-memories which allow him to be such an effective operative, he may also have a deeply buried sense on who he was, or at least of what kind of person he was. As such, this deeply buried idea may be causing him mental stress and triggering turmoil in his thoughts. Another theory, which is more disturbing, is that he may actually be remembering his previous life, though in small pieces only.
It is therefore our recommendation that Codename: Winter Soldier be kept in stasis between missions, and that he undergo Mental Implantation at every awakening. We believe this will correct his instability issues, so he can continue to be of use to Department X
There it was, the answer to how he appeared not to have aged in seventy years - they had kept him in cryofreeze, bringing him out when he was needed. He was wiped before and after every mission, pumped with chemicals and drugs. Mood suppressors, compliance agents, anything to keep him under their control - control that he was clearly fighting, if the need for such measures was any indication.
What followed the historical and medical files were mission reports, systematically detailing each and every mission he had been dispatched on, complete with photos of targets and mission outcomes, all the way up to a man called Nicholas Fury, who had apparently been the Director of SHIELD.
They started as Soviet enemies - a United Nations Diplomatic Negotiation Team, a NATO General, a British Ambassador, a French Defence Minister, a United States Colonel, an Algerian Peace Conference Envoy - but as the Soviets were absorbed by Hydra the targets became Hydra's enemies.
Perhaps most horrifically, the Winter Soldier had been dispatched to kill Howard Stark; she knew from the Smithsonian exhibit that the two of them had been friends in the war - the fact that Bucky had unknowingly been forced to kill his friend was both cruel and tragic.
Every single mission had been successful … and there was nearly fifty of them spread out over the decades since the program started. He was cold, ruthless and efficient, taking out targets without any thought for collateral damage or casualties left in his wake and never once showing even a hint of remorse or feeling.
Katherine had tears running down her cheeks by the time she finished reading; her shaking hand was covering her mouth as she tried not to sob and her heart absolutely aching for him.
She looked towards the cabin door; it was well over an hour since he had walked out into the snow and still he hadn't returned. Scrubbing the tears from her cheeks, she stood up and put on her coat, determined to go out after him.
It wasn't hard to follow his tracks, though he had gone further than she had anticipated. At first his footprints were deep and even, then they became more spaced out, the indent of his toes and the balls of his feet in the snow rather than his heels, as if he had started running. She walked through the snow for what felt like over three miles before she eventually found him.
He was kneeling at the base of a huge pine tree, with a wide trunk that was several meters in diameter. He was punching the tree over and over, using both fists to do so. The tree trunk was splintered and buckling beneath his metal arm, but the fist of his flesh hand was covered in blood that was dripping into the snow beneath him.
"Bucky?" she said quietly, staring at his back with wide eyes.
He froze, his metal hand still poised in the air to land another hit. "Go back inside," he said in a dull, emotionless voice, not even turning to face her.
Katherine simply stared at him, her teeth clamped down on her cold, wind-chapped lips. She didn't want to leave, nor did she know what she could even do to help.
Bucky clearly sensed that she hadn't moved. He slowly turned to face her, his expression dark and more dangerous than she had ever seen it. "I said …" he repeated, his voice coming out as a downright snarl as he glared at her. "Go back inside, Katya."
She held his eyes for a long moment, then hesitantly nodded. She turned around and started to head back the way she had came. She heard the sounds of more punches, more wood splintering beneath metal, and felt tears welling up in her eyes once more.
It was a long, lonely walk back to the cabin, which felt cold and empty when she arrived. It was still daytime and so she couldn't yet light a fire. Instead, she got out the first aid kit from one of the bags they had taken from the Hydra safehouse and sat down at the table, waiting for him to come back.
It wasn't until darkness had truly fallen many long hours later that he eventually returned. Katherine had lit a fire, meaning that the cabin was warm once more, but she was still sat waiting for him. Bucky came quietly back into the cabin, bringing a gust of frigid air with him before he shut the door behind him.
Katherine leapt to her feet, her breath catching in her throat. "Come here," she told him, her tone soft and firm.
Wordlessly, he did so, allowing her to guide him into a seat at the table. His face was once more blank and expressionless, like carved marble, reminding her of how he had seemed when they had first met at the museum. "Give me your hand," she ordered; obediently, he offered his cold, bloody, bruised hand to her with his palm tilted up, an oddly vulnerable gesture.
She exhaled another shaky breath as she turned it over so that his knuckles were facing up and surveyed the damage he had done to himself. His hand was tinged black and yellow with bruising beneath the dried, red bloodstains from numerous cuts, many of them with splinters of wood embedded into them.
"I think you must have broken several bones," she said softly, breaking the silence that had reigned between them.
"It will have healed by morning," he said in a quiet rasp, the first words he had spoken; his gaze was fixed down on his hand, but from the slightly glazed look in his eyes she assumed he wasn't really looking at it.
She hummed slightly before getting to work, using tweezers to pick the splinters of wood out of his knuckles. It was a long process, taking several minutes, but eventually she was able to move on to gently cleaning the blood from his entire hand. Once she had finished she gently bandage his hand with a roll of gauze, weaving the bandage so that it held his fingers together.
When she was done she carefully held his hand in both of hers and raised her gaze to study his face. He looked exhausted and pained, his gaze hollow, nothing like the man she'd gone to bed with the night before. "Are you hurt anywhere else?" she asked quietly. He gave her an almost imperceptible head shake and she nodded in response. "Okay," she said.
There was a long, lingering silence between them while she waited for him to speak, still holding his bandaged hand in both of hers.
"Talk to me, Bucky," she eventually said softly, wanting him to speak.
He hesitated, taking a breath, and for a long moment she thought he wasn't going to say anything at all. "They made me into a weapon," he finally said, sounding like he was trying hard to control his voice. "A monster."
Katherine shook her head, leaning forward slightly. "It wasn't you," she replied, trying to look in his eyes and remembering how the files said they had encoded trigger words and kept him on compliance drugs. "You didn't have a choice."
He didn't reply, though his jaw visibly clenched, his gaze trained downwards, away from her.
"I … I read the files, Bucky," she told him, hoping that he wouldn't be angry with her for that. She felt him tense slightly, but still he didn't look at her. "It said you needed to be wiped before and after every mission to keep you loyal, that there were times you did go off-grid and had to be bought back in," she reminded him. "You must have been fighting, so hard," she finished, her voice catching on the vicious lump that had formed in her throat, remembering how she had read that he had still called for Steve even after he had forgotten his own name.
"Not hard enough," he said in a dull voice, still not looking at her.
"They were controlling you," she insisted firmly, trying to get through to him. "And when you broke free you -"
"Kidnapped a woman," he finished for her, his expression dark and cold as he finally looked up and met her eyes.
Katherine blinked several times, thrown by the sudden shift in the conversation. "D-do you think I'm here against my will?" she asked him, her voice catching once more.
"Aren't you?" he said, his dangerous gaze fixed on her face.
She shook her head earnestly. "I could have left," she said, entreating him with her eyes. "When you put the keys in my hand and left me in the car. I chose not to."
"For safety," Bucky said, clenching his jaw once more as he referred to how Hydra had seen her face and would know her to be an associate of his. "From a danger that I put you in."
She shook her head once more. "Not just for safety," she told him quietly, in a barely audible voice.
He abruptly jerked his hands from hers, standing up and walking around the table as if to put distance between them. "Then why are you here?" he demanded as he gripped the back of one of the wooden chairs with his metal hand, his head lowered, once again not looking at her.
"Because you needed help," she replied honestly, staring at his back.
The wood splintered under his hand and she automatically flinched ever so slightly. "I don't deserve your help," he said darkly, shaking his head.
Katherine got to her feet, moving around the table to stand beside him. "Hey," she said determinedly, taking his arm to turn him so that they were standing face to face. "I was walking around that exhibit for nearly an hour before I saw you there," she told him, remembering the laughing, handsome, charming man that she had seen in the footage and photos; him leant over a map spread out on the hood of a truck with the thoughtful frown she now knew so well, laughing with Steve Rogers, walking and cradling a rifle in his arms with his army shirt half unbuttoned. "I read all about you, I saw footage. You were, you are, a good man," she said, jabbing her finger into the center of his chest as he towered over her to try and make her point.
"You read the files?" he asked in a curiously dead voice, staring down into her face with an angry glint in his blue eyes. She nodded hesitantly, wondering if his anger was directed at her for having read them. "Then you know that's not true, sweetheart," he added bitterly, hissing the endearment right into her face like he was using it as a weapon.
"Bucky …" she said quietly, but he wasn't finished yet.
"As I was reading I remembered those missions, I remembered the face of every single person I've killed," he told her furiously, seizing her shoulders to shake her slightly to emphasise his point. "People think snipers are removed from their targets, at a distance, but they're not," he continued, his voice coming as a quiet snarl as his fingers dug painfully into her skin. "They're close. Through that scope they are as close as you and me."
He released her abruptly, as if realising what he was doing, and turned away from her. He took several steps, facing the door of the cabin. "I'm a monster," he finished quietly once again, the words almost lost with how softly he spoke.
Katherine took several deep breaths as she tried not to cry, not moving from where she stood. Eventually, she felt like she was able to speak without her voice breaking. "If you ask me, there were two victims in every mission Hydra sent you on. The target, and the man pulling the trigger," she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly as she stared at his back. "You are a victim in this, Bucky … and I believe that with all my heart."
"ты невыносимо наивныйin," he said in Russian, still facing away from her, his words dark and bitter.
She blinked at the foreign language, knowing from his nightmares and mood swings that it was rarely a good thing when he spoke in Russian. "W-what does that mean?"
Bucky turned to glare at her, his jaw clenched and his mouth pressed into a thin line as his eyes shone angrily. "It means you are unbearably naive," he told her bitterly, before storming passed her into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him.
Katherine slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs, trying not to cry. She flinched as she heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering from the bathroom, the sound being enough to break the dam of her tears once more.
She scrubbed at her cheeks as the tears continued to fall, knowing well enough not to go after him so soon after he had left.
She sat like that for a long time before she eventually looked up and, after a moment's thought, pulled her laptop towards her once more. She was far too overwrought to even think about working on her code; instead she looked over his files once more, hoping to find something that might help him.
She was struck anew by how inhuman they had treated him - being hosed down with icy jets of water rather than a shower, sleeping on a hard bench rather than a bed in the times he was out of cryo-freeze for long periods, drugs to suppress endorphins, dopamine, even sexual arousal, not even having the dignity of his own name, always being called either Soldier or Asset.
Eventually, after many long, long minutes, the sound of the shower running once more roused her from where she sat at the table.
Curious, she got up and walked over towards the bathroom. She immediately exhaled a deep, relieved breath when she saw that the door was open a few inches - she knew that he had initially slammed it shut, and so the fact that he had decided to open it felt almost like an invitation.
Carefully, she pushed open the bathroom door and peeked inside.
The mirror above the sink was shattered with an unmistakable indent from a fist right in the centre, glass littering the sink, as if he had struck out at his own reflection. Bucky himself was standing fully clothed beneath the spray of the shower with his back to her; he had both hands braced on the tiles, his head lowered between them as the water cascaded over him. There was a faint impression of cracks in the tiles near his metal hand.
Katherine bit her lip, feeling a sense of deep hesitation. What she was contemplating could break the fragile trust they had built, but at the same time she felt that he needed comfort and company. The fact that he had unlocked and opened the door for her rather than leaving it closed swayed her and she stepped into the bathroom.
Slowly, still hesitating, she pulled her jumper over her head, dropping it down next to Bucky's shoes, the only item of clothing he had removed before getting in the shower. Her t-shirt, jeans and socks followed, until she was left in just her underwear.
She slipped into the large shower cubicle with him, feeling the pounding heat of the water from the different shower heads. Gently, she placed her hands on his clothed back; he shuddered at the touch, but made no move to tell her to leave.
There was a long silence, during which she wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek on the sodden material of his t-shirt between his shoulder blades, hoping to reassure him with her presence. She could feel his deep, shuddering breaths and, when he finally spoke, his voice rumbled through his torso. "прости. Мне очень жаль," he said, still not moving from where he stood.
Katherine tightened her arms around him. "English, please," she said quietly, keeping her cheek pressed against his back.
She felt him take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Katya," he said simply, the regret and reproach evident in his voice and she knew that he was apologising for his violent actions and the way he'd spoken to her.
"Shh, it's alright," she soothed, shifting so that it was her forehead pressed into his back as she closed her eyes. "I've got you."
She felt rather than saw him lift his head slightly. "How can you stand to be close to me?" he asked, sounding genuinely bewildered by this.
"I'm not afraid of you," she replied, pressing herself against his back.
Bucky moved quickly, turning to face her, and she was confronted by a frowning, dripping wet mountain of super soldier in the small space of the shower. "You should be," he said deeply, his eyes like a winter storm as he reached out to wrap his metal hand around her throat.
Katherine felt a flash of fear as he backed her into the wall of the shower, wondering if she had miscalculated, then realised that the hand around her throat was touching her with feather lightness, as if she was made out of glass. "Do you have any idea how breakable you are?" he continued, positively towering over her as he pressed her against the tiles, her own hands splayed on the wall behind her. "I've killed so many people and I could kill you easily, in so many different ways."
She met his eyes. "You won't hurt me, Bucky," she said softly, determined not to show fear.
His features softened slightly as she held his gaze. " No …" he said slowly, his metal hand moving lightly up her neck and fisting in the dripping mass of hair at the base of her skull. "No, I won't hurt you, doll."
He used the hand in her hair to tilt her head slowly, inexorably, to one side before burying his face in her neck. She closed her eyes as she felt his forehead pressed against the junction where her shoulder met her throat, his breaths warm on the damp skin of her collarbone.
He stayed like that for a long moment, meanwhile her own hands came up to grip his shoulders to steady herself. Seemingly taking this as a cue to move, he ran his nose up the length of her neck, still using his hold on her hair to keep her skin exposed to him. Her own hands moved slowly down his chest and paused at the hem of his t-shirt.
"Arms up," she ordered simply after a long moment. Bucky drew back ever so slightly and looked at her, his light blue gaze no longer quite so dangerous and stormy, with no small amount of confusion in his gaze. "You can't shower with your clothes on," she added, pointedly gripping the hem of his sodden t-shirt. "Arms up, Sargeant."
Calling him that had been a gamble, wanting to remind him of the man he had been, one that paid off if the slight, hungry flash in his eyes was any indication - it was a look that she hadn't seen from him before, gone as quickly as it came, but it reassured her that her feelings may not be entirely one-sided.
Obligingly, he released her hair and raised both arms, allowing her to pull the drenched material up and over his head. The defined muscles of his torso and his complete metal arm was revealed to her gaze; she had seen him thus before, when she'd had to dig the bullets out in the motel room, but now she felt like she could look and appreciate as she hadn't done then.
She dropped the soaking t-shirt to the shower floor, returning her hands to his waist; meanwhile, Bucky's hands came up to brace themselves on the wall on either side of her, as if caging her between his arms. He was staring intently into her face, seemingly waiting for her next move.
Slowly, holding his gaze, her hands moved down his sides until she reached the waistband of the dark trousers that he wore. Her fingers moved inwards along the waistband until her hands met in the centre between them. She undid the button and watched as a faint crease appeared on his brow as he frowned slightly, clearly unsure. "Just a shower," she reassured him in a whisper. "Trust me."
He nodded and she pulled his drenched trousers down his legs; Bucky stepped out of them and kicked them to one side. He was left standing before her in just his underwear, dark navy blue boxers that were just as soaked as the rest of his clothing.
Their eyes were still locked, warm water cascading down their bodies from the multiple shower heads as his arms kept her trapped between him and the tiles. It felt like a pivotal moment; part of Katherine wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, to show him that she wasn't afraid, but she also had the sense that he wasn't ready for that yet, certainly not after just reading those files - and she didn't think she could bear it if he pushed her away.
Instead, she cast a small smile his way and made to move past him; he immediately lowered one arm, no longer keeping her caged against the wall, allowing her to move. She picked up her shampoo and poured a little onto her hands, lathering it up before starting to shower as normal - or as normal as could be whilst still wearing her underwear and with a half naked, handsome man in the shower with her staring intently at her every move.
She kept her eyes closed and her back to him as she washed her hair, tilting her head back to allow the soap and conditioner to rinse out. She then moved on to her body wash, lathering it up before moving her hands over her skin, perhaps slightly slower and more sensously than she would have done if she was alone. She paused halfway through washing and finally glanced over her shoulder, unsurprised to find Bucky's eyes still fixed on her, his eyes dark in a way that made her lower stomach flip. "Will you do my back?" she asked, holding the body wash out towards him.
He took it from her and she turned her back to him, waiting. There was nothing for several heartbeats, then she felt him behind her. He carefully moved her long, dripping hair over one shoulder, and then there was another long pause.
Suddenly, she felt both of his hands at her waist, moving up her ribcage and then gliding over her shoulder blades before travelling down her back again. The contrast between his two hands was evident as they moved over her skin - one rough, calloused and bandaged, the other hard and smooth metal. She gasped slightly, arching her back as he dug his thumbs ever so slightly into the base of her spine.
His hands vanished from her back and she was about to turn around, only to then feel his hands wrapped around her ankle. Confused, she glanced over her shoulder to find him kneeling behind her; he didn't seem to notice her look, focused on his task as his soapy hands moved slowly up one leg, then he repeated the process with the other.
Just a shower, Katherine thought slightly deliriously as she felt his metal hand gliding up her inner thigh, silently thanking any deity that might be listening that she had shaved her legs yesterday.
She took a deep breath and turned to face him, positively trembling from even that simple touch. "Your turn," she said, her voice coming out slightly huskier than she had intended.
He stepped further into the spray that was no longer quite as hot, the water cascading down his defined muscles. He started washing his torso, meanwhile she moved behind him. She poured a little of his pine scented body wash onto her palm and lathered it up, before running her hands up his back. The muscles there were hard and defined and she savoured the feel of them beneath her fingers.
When she was done with his back she moved around in front of him once more. Bucky looked much more calm and relaxed than he had done before, though pain still lingered in his eyes as he looked down at her - she got the sense that that pain wasn't going to go away any time soon. She placed a single hand over his heart, feeling the regular beats within his chest. He reached for her, drawing her into his arms beneath the rapidly cooling spray and pressing his forehead against hers with a deep sigh.
" … I feel like I'm broken, Katya," he admitted after a long moment in a small, sad voice that fairly broke her heart after everything that had happened that day.
"Hey," Katherine said quietly over the sound of the shower; he opened his eyes, but kept his forehead pressed to hers. "Today was rough, but we can't put the lid back on the box and we are going to have to deal with what is in those files, however you want to do that," she told him, not knowing what would happen next - he might want to move against Hydra and get revenge, or perhaps he'd move them from the cabin and isolate them even further in the wilderness for safety from those who were no doubt still looking for them. She reached out to cup his stubble-covered cheeks in both of her hands. "No matter what happens ... I'm with you, Bucky."
"... To the end of the line," he said very softly, deep furrows appearing in his brow; she knew that look, he tended to get it when he remembered something. The water started to go properly cold and he automatically reached out to turn it off, their faces no longer pressed together. "That's what Steve used to say," he added absently as they stood dripping in the shower, clearly lost in thought.
She managed to smile at him, moving her hands from his cheeks to loop her arms round his neck instead, both of them still dripping in the shower. "Smart guy, your friend Steve," she said and he managed a very weak, half smile in response, the barest twitch of his mouth. "Come on," she added in a purposefully light voice, jerking her head towards the bathroom door. "Let's get dressed and make some dinner, I promise everything always looks better after food."
Bucky nodded and obediently followed her out of the bathroom, clearly deep in thought once more.
Sorry for the delay in updating - I've had a manic week at work, what with end of term data needing to be submitted and reports needing to be written, not to mention a small implosion in my personal life - suffice to say it has most emphatically not been a good week for me :/
Extracts in italics are taken from Marvel's Winter Soldier Dossier.
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