Screams echoed within his mind, the images of him shooting his victims dead with no remorse always lingered when he went to sleep. Especially tonight when his nightmarish victims were your parents. He pulled the trigger, shooting your father dead first before swiftly turning his body to the right, shooting your mother next with no hesitation. Their blood splattered the walls behind them. Satisfaction had lurked in The Winter Soldier's mind when he heard their bodies hit the floor with a thud. You were next.

He turned around completely, his eyes dancing from the bloodshed he had caused. You didn't move and he knew you were plastered to your spot, your mouth slightly ajar. Your face contorted into one of fear and shock, not being able to register what just commenced in front of your eyes. You were his next mission. His heavily booted feet swaggered up to you and with no hesitation, his silver metal fingers wrapped around your throat expertly, picking you up off of the ground as he began to squeeze the life out of you.

The Soldiers head tilted to the side as his eyes squinted, proving that he was smiling sadistically behind his mask as the life began to drain out of those Y/E/C eyes of yours. You were just minutes away from dying.

But that famous vibranium shield smashed through the front window, smacking Buckright where his ribs were located. His fingers loosened, dropping you to the ground as you gasped for air, your chest falling up and down with every breath you tried to get back.

Bucky's body sat upright at a quick speed, his chest falling up and down as yours did in his nightmare. His eyes narrowed at the wall in front of him, his stare was blazing so hard that if he could, the wallpaper would have stripped away in flames. No matter how hard the damaged soldier tried to push the memories of his former life deep into the layers of his mind, they always clawed their way back to the top, resting at his frontal lobe. His vibranium fingers curled into a tight fist, remaining like that for a few seconds before letting them fall back open. This exercise soothed him, reminding him that he was not the man he used to be because this time whatever he did was in his control. Not Hydra's. He was able to choose what he wanted to do.

However, even though he continuously pushed his memories far away from the front of his mind, it didn't help that he was forced to look into those eyes of yours that always danced with the fear you held for him. He stood up off of the floor he would always sleep on, not being able to handle sleeping in the bed as the comfort was too much for him. His mind flashed back earlier to today in Dr Raynor's office. He saw how pale your face went when you looked at him for the first time in quite a while, your eyes filled with distaste and hatred. It hurt him to the point it felt like you had stabbed him with over a thousand daggers. He didn't realise someone could look at him with so much ferocity. Especially now that he was lucid once more.

Bucky grabbed a beer out of his nearby fridge, popping the lid off with a hiss before bringing the rim to his lips, letting the liquid slide down this throat smoothly. Another thing that triggered him about you, was that he remembered very clearly the emotionless expression his eyes would sometimes hold when he was the Winter Soldier. He also remembered the time his eyes showed sadism when his hand was wrapped around your throat. He never felt anything when he commenced his murders but now that he was lucid, his emotions always hit him like two fast oncoming trains, sending him flying to oblivion.

You looked at him with disgust and saw him as the murderous villain he always saw himself to be - it was hard to miss since it was written all over your face during the whole appointment. He noticed your leg twitch when he accidentally brushed his fingers up against it, he noticed how tense you were when his hands held your wrists as gentle as he could fathom to tell you that he was aware of your fear. No matter how fast or hard Buck tried to hide or push his past away, it always caught up to him and now? His past was unconscious in his bed, wrapped up in blankets and pillows from the attack you suffered.

Your phone was in your skirt pocket and as you were being thrown around like a rag doll, you accidentally dialled his number. With immense hesitation, he picked it up and heard the words;

"consider me the person who finishes his failed missions."

You were his only failed mission.

Seeing the makeshift Winter Soldier when he found you after tracking the location of your phone, triggered him. His hands clenched into fists as he couldn't fathom the idea of anyone trying to impersonate the old Bucky Barnes and it made him feel sick knowing that someone worshipped The Winter Soldier hard enough that they had to go through and target his old mission. There was a reason why you and your family were his targets, but it was something Bucky could not remember. Ever. But now you were someone else's and he'd been asked to look over you as if he were some guardian angel.

He set the beer down and walked over to his bedroom, opening the door slightly ajar to peek in to check on you. You were wrapped up tightly in the blankets he tucked you in with, your head propped up slightly with a pillow because he was worried you'd have a concussion. A worried exhale exited those pursed lips of his and he shut the door quietly, careful not to stir your sleeping mind. His mind began to sink into the deep end as he rattled himself silly: how could Steve ask someone like Bucky to watch over someone who had to be saved from his death grip? Sam would have been the better choice. After all, Steve did give Sam the shield, did he not?

Bucky chastised himself quietly about his insecure thoughts as he realised that Steve saw something in him that he didn't see himself. He disregarded all of the wrongdoings he caused as his previous personality. Especially you. Steve found him worthy enough to look after you and be the protection that you thought you didn't need but did. Unfortunately for Buck though, you were difficult. You made it exceptionally clear, tone of voice and facial expression that you didn't like him or want him anywhere near you.

He let a sharp exhale, bringing his beer bottle back to his lips and taking another swig and licking his bottom lip dry of the alcohol that spilled out slightly. He had glazed over your own file that your therapist had given his. You were traumatised by your families death, you had constant nightmares and gained insomnia until you were prescribed strong medication to rid of it. He read about how you rarely told your therapist how you felt; how you sat there and lied about your nightmares. It made him scoff in thought, you both had something in common.

The difficulty of trusting others.

One thing that stuck out to him though, was how it was mentioned that you tried to hurt yourself, not being able to handle the nightmares and the trauma that lingered in your mind. For what it was worth, he was grateful deep down that you didn't succeed because then that would've just been him killing you. Just not at the use of his hands.

Worry stirred within Bucky's stomach, forming into a whirlpool as it sucked the energy out of him. The worry was for you. You were in his bed after he rescued you from the imposter and unfortunately the two men had escaped.

But what would you think when you woke up in that bed of his in his apartment the following morning?