! FIRST CHAPTER REWRITE !
This is a rewrite of the first chapter. I tend to rush these things, which is a big no no for an aspiring writer, so it came out sloppy in my opinion. I took my time this second round and I'm happy with the turnout. Besides, I want this to be a darker fanfiction, much like the show. I'll keep the sloppy start because I happen to like my line, "he puts the ass in assassin." LMAO.
Anyways, I hope those of you who are returning enjoy this second start. Ily.
Something ate at my core. It was a nagging, suppressed nervousness that threatened to surface at any moment. I couldn't resist the tap of my foot, or even the nail biting, as the file lay unopened before me. The world around me faded until there was nothing but an unbearable ringing pulsing in my ears.
'He could kill you with a squeeze of his left hand.'
My mind screamed at me, fueling a rising fear. The details remained hidden in the file I had no desire to read. I already knew everything about him, but despite everything Steve had told me, I couldn't stomach the idea of being in the same room as him. His presence leaked a dominance that was shoved into a corner when he awoke from the hypnosis. Those pale blue eyes were killers by themselves; staring daggers into anyone who looked into them. But there was something else that lurked deep within them, hiding behind the blue.
'James Buchanan Barnes.'
The name taunted me from where it was stamped across the manilla folder. I couldn't resist the creeping urge to scour over the contents any longer. The first photo screamed at me as the cover fell open. James stood clapping for his best friend, who had rescued the entirety of the hundred and seventh. He'd been a victim- subjected to torturous experiments conducted by Hydra. After he fell to his assumed death, Steve mourned.
But as his best friend thought him dead, James was simply resurrected as a weapon of slaughter. I felt my stomach sink deep, flipping and twisting as the thought of meeting him raced through my mind. Even though he spent time in Wakanda and claimed his ties to Hydra were severed, something that strong never went away. James was under their spell for over fifty years; it ran so deep within him that I was sure it defined him.
As I turned a page over, my heart rate increased. I glanced at a photograph of James fighting Captain America; a knife levitated in the air mid toss with the intention to drive it home. Truthfully, I hated him. An unconnected hatred that threatened to pulse through my body at any moment. It didn't help that I was slightly afraid of him, but I wasn't ready to admit that.
It wasn't until my eyes landed on a recent photograph that I finally understood what was dwelling within James' eyes. I pinched it between my fingers and brought it closer to my line of sight. I didn't think James was aware that someone had snapped this photo, but it allowed me to see him clearly.
Pain. Pain lurked behind those intense eyes; hiding from the light, but still making him look older than one hundred and six. That's where James carried all of his weight.
Finally, there was a light knock on the door to the room I'd been kept in. The door opened, and I shoved the folder against the table.
"(Y/n), we're ready if you are."
I nodded. Silence wrapped its claws around my throat and rendered me voiceless. I couldn't find it, not when I was faced with meeting my supposed protector. The former Winter Soldier; someone who used to be an assassin and killed because he was ordered to. My palms grew warm and my fingers trembled slightly. This was supposed to be a meet and greet, something for me to endure in order to get to know him. I knew everything I needed to from the file, while everything James knew was hidden in the depths of his broken eyes.
The door opened all the way. My gaze followed the woman who'd opened the door as she walked to the head of the table. A notebook was placed before her, and it was only after that when I noticed she wasn't looking at me- but focused on something standing beyond the doorway.
She waved her hand towards the empty seat beside me. "Sit."
My heart nearly leapt from my chest as his frame came into my peripheral. He eased himself into the chair, a light sigh escaping his lips. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, not yet.
"I'm Dr. Reiner. I'm James' therapist. It's good to finally meet you, (y/n). I've heard a lot about you already."
Dr. Reiner slid her purse from her shoulder and set it beside her chair. She briefly looked at James' folder as it rested on the table. Her fingers latched onto the file. "This isn't what I'd consider a proper meeting. You won't get the real James from a few pieces of paper." The folder fell from her grasp and into the waste bin.
I could suddenly feel how uncomfortable James was. He shifted in his seat, propping his elbow up on the armrest as he kept his mouth hidden behind a gloved hand.
"I didn't read much anyway," I lied. My voice finally returned.
"Let's get started, then. Who'd like to go first?"
Silence. Dr. Reiner planted herself in her seat. "Fine. (Y/n), why don't you go first."
Finally, my eyes landed on him. I tried to control the tremor in my vocal chords as I looked at the man who used to steal lives. A terrifying image of him holding a gun to my head, staring at me with those dull, empty eyes raced through my mind. I swallowed dryly.
"(Y/n). And I know who you are." I could feel the icy hot anger swirling inside; the embers began to spark.
James turned his head to me. Suddenly, I felt smaller under his pinning stare. His jaw ticked as he pried his gaze away from me.
"Progress already." Dr. Reiner said, albeit a little annoyed.
James' leather jacket creased as he clasped both hands together in front of him, elbows propped up on either armrest. I could sense he didn't want to be there. It seemed we had that in common.
"There's a lot of tension between you two. Why don't we try an ice breaker exercise. I want you to face each other."
His eyes narrowed.
"Now," she demanded.
Finally, James and I locked eyes. I could clearly see the struggles he'd endured hidden behind his features like a second mask, but it did nothing to diminish my hatred for him.
"Good. Now ask each other a question. A simple question, like what your favorite movie is. James, you go first this time."
James' eyes glanced up to the ceiling for a moment, until he pierced his glare through mine. "What did you read in the file."
It wasn't a question. My mind spiraled, and I didn't register Dr. Reiner's voice. The world around me blurred, yet James remained clear as day. From behind his eyes, I could tell he knew I was scared. He knew his effect on me.
Didn't he?
"James, that's not a fair question."
James didn't yield. I was trapped beneath his glare, trying to find my voice. I felt small, almost insignificant.
"Everything." I whispered.
The usual storm that raged within me disappeared. My fire was extinguished and in its place sat a rising fear. I couldn't fight it, even if I could access the storm. Something flashed across his eyes.
"It's my turn then," I realized. I wracked my brain for a question but came up empty. Until finally, the one that had been secretly burning in my mind surfaced. "How do you expect me to trust a murderer with my life?"
The room was enveloped in a silent, lethal tension. It was sharper than any blade James could have yielded. The creases in his leather jacket became even more defined as he leaned forward.
"I don't kill anymore." His voice was low, and dangerously quiet. There were signs of an inner battle behind his glare, as if he were holding onto invisible reigns. "I thought you read over the file?" A thick sarcasm laced his tone.
The storm suddenly burst to life.
"I did." I leaned forward to meet his blazing glare. "You're a former assassin with a bloody reputation." My eyes burned into his. "Haven't you read over your own file, James? No? Maybe it's because you lived through every moment described in it and you don't want a reminder. So I'm going to ask you again: how do you expect me to trust you with my life?"
Dr. Reiner's voice interjected, but James and I were too consumed in each other's presence to notice.
His stare was more powerful than any other; the intensity that leaked from them spoke volumes about how he felt towards my statements. The leather in James' left glove crinkled. He clenched his metal hand into a tight, dangerous fist.
He didn't get the chance to reply.
"Okay, this has seriously gotten out of hand. (Y/n), your job isn't to provoke James. And James, your job isn't to feed into (y/n). Remember the three rules."
James peeled his eyes away from mine and glanced at Dr. Reiner. "What was rule number two, again?" His voice was at that usual low volume, with a raspy tone. It was almost as if he were exhausted.
The woman's shoulders fell in a sigh. "Don't hurt anyone. That's kind of a big one."
"Then why isn't it rule number one." He turned his attention back to me, those pale blue eyes staring directly into mine.
My heart began to pound against my ribcage. The file was just a glimpse; a knock off brand. This- this was the real James, and I was seeing it up close and personal. Even still, I couldn't fight the rebellion that clawed its way into my mouth.
"As much as I'd love to stay and chat with my brooding protector, I've actually got a life with real people in it. And I'm sure James needs to get back to reminiscing about his good old days."
Dr. Reiner was not at all pleased. "Okay, look. You two are going to be together a lot, now, and it's up to you to get along. (Y/n), as much as you don't want it, James is your guardian now. And James, you're going to do the job. Now I want you to end this. Give her the line."
We never broke eye contact.
James shifted in his seat, until he heaved out a sigh. "I am no longer The Winter Soldier. I am James Bucky Barnes, and you're part of my efforts to make amends. Are we finished?"
"I suppose this ends the meeting-"
Instantly, he rose from his spot. He brushed past my own seat as he strode towards the door, ignoring Dr. Reiner as she beckoned him to sit back down. James pushed himself out of the room, until finally he disappeared beyond the door. An icy chill ran along my arms and up my spine, branching out all the way to my fingertips. I wanted to set his chair on fire and watch it be swallowed by my flames.
The hatred I had mixed with my anger, braiding my emotions together. My eyes were glued to his seat, and very faintly, they began to glow. Deep within my irises a dark red light danced about. I didn't notice that my fingertips were already glowing like a hot ember, or that the metal of my chair began to melt. The storm almost erupted; it would have engulfed the building in flames within an instant.
"(Y/n)."
Dr. Reiner's voice disturbed my blazing glare, and I tore my eyes away from the chair. When I looked at her, a nervousness flashed across her features. I snapped back to reality- and that's when I noticed the temperature had risen dramatically. The room was a sauna, and the armrest of my own chair was molded into my grip.
I almost burned the building down.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me." I tried to focus on my breathing. It was heavy, and anxiety made my chest so tight I thought my lungs would give out.
She shifted uncomfortably. "I know you're having a hard time adjusting, but James is no longer The Winter Soldier. I can sense your concerns, but really he's-"
"A murderer," I interrupted. "No amount of therapy or good deeds can make up for fifty years of slaughter. That person is still in there, lurking. People like him don't change. But thanks for trying to ease me into this. Goodbye, Dr. Reiner."
I removed myself from my seat and strode to the door. My hand gripped the handle and as I went to pull it open, her voice halted me.
"Steve Rogers saw enough in his best friend to leave you with him. That has to count for something, doesn't it?"
"The only thing I see, doctor, is someone that I hate with every fiber of my being. Nothing Steve ever said about him would change that."
I threw myself past the doorway.