Chapter Three: Unravel Me

"Try the buffalo first. It's a godsend." Don peeled open the first sauce cup.

"I don't think I like how it smells." Bucky frowned, peering into the bright orange container. She rolled her eyes and dunked a nugget for him.

"Open up, we can try ranch next. Or, if you're feeling frisky you can dip into both for buffalo ranch nuggets." she held the sauced nugget up to his mouth. He kept his lips closed, giving her his signature 'I'm so done with you' look. She rolled her eyes and let him old his own food, and he took a bite, chewing slowly before nodding.

"It's alright." he moved the ranch cup closer. "This one's better." he nodded.

"I hate sweet and sour, but you might like it." she pushed the next sauce up to him. He grimaced at it.

"I really don't like the way that looks." he admitted. She nudged it closer to him again, and he rolled his eyes before dipping the smallest bit. "That is disgusting." his face scrunched up and he pushed the sauce away.

"Good boy." she grinned, opening the barbecue. "This one's classic." she mentioned, and he ended up liking it. "Okay, now my own personal favorite." she excitedly gave him the honey mustard.

"It looks questionable." he frowned. She gave him a pleading look. He sighed and tried it. He chewed slowly again, and when he swallowed he shrugged. "Not bad."

"So you liked it?" she grinned.

"Never said that." he frowned again. "But yeah, I liked it."

"Great!" she cheered. He polished off the rest of his chicken nuggets, going between a few of the sauces he'd liked the most. Then he got to try the Big Mac.

"Why is there a bun in the middle?" He squinted.

"That's just what they do for burgers. It's like that for the McDouble too." He made a face, lifting each layer.

"The lettuce is brown." He mentioned. She chuckled, leaning back in her seat.

"It's fast food lettuce, it's never nice." He lifted the sandwich to his mouth, finally, and took a small bite. His face was neutral, until he took his second bite, which he immediately spit out.

"There's something in there." He crumpled his napkin up, searching through the layers again.

"Uh, yeah, it's called beef, cheese, lettuce, Big Mac sauce…" she trailed off.

"What are these green bits?" He lifted his bun, pointing out some relish.

"That's called pickle relish, and it's part of the Big Mac sauce. You don't like it?" She asked. He tentatively took another bite, swallowing it quickly.

"Not really." He shook his head.

"Yeah, it must be an interesting texture." She mused, watching as he finished the sandwich. "You didn't dislike it enough to not eat it?"

"I was raised not to waste food." He replied, beginning to eat the McDouble. "I like this one better."

"Really? I prefer the Big Mac. Did you try the fries yet? They're the best fast food fries. Perfect in every way." She sighed, eating a few from her own box. He picked one up, taking a tentative bite. He nodded. "Also, you can dip them in your shake. It's really good." She mentioned. His face quickly turned into that cute disgusted expression. She chuckled. "Don't knock it til you try it!" She teased, dipping a fry into her chocolate shake and watching his reaction. His hand hovered over his fries, and he slowly picked one up, copying her movements. He hesitated before eating it, and his expression was unreadable for a moment. He gave a slow nod, repeating the action with another fry. "I told you!" Don cheered.

"I don't get it. It shouldn't taste good, but it does." His face twisted as he glanced between the food items. She shrugged as she continued to eat, and he finished his meal a lot quicker than she did.

"What's on the agenda for tonight, Buck-o?" Don asked. He shot her a withering glare, gathering up his trash and putting it in the wastebasket. "So you don't like being called that. Duly noted." She chuckled. "Maybe a movie?" He shrugged. "I can't read your mind, you know, so some verbal nuances will go a long way." Bucky sighed, pushing his seat back and standing. His fists flexed, revealing the veins and tendons in his still exposed forearm, and his prosthetic arm mimicked the way his real arm looked. The metal glinted in the low light, the weak winter sun already down at the horizon.

"It doesn't matter." he replied. She sighed, standing and moving towards the living room.

"Any favorite movies?" she asked. He stood by the table, not turning to face her. He stared at the sink for a while, then sighed.

"I don't know." he revealed. She felt her lips purse into a frown, a twinge hitting her heart. She hadn't missed the part in his records that said his memories were wiped. He had forgotten his past.

"I'll pick then, I hope you like chick flicks." she grinned, ignoring his admission in order to keep things light. His eyebrows came down again as he looked at her, his arms crossed in front of his chest. She bustled around the living room, turning the television back on and loading up netflix. She went to the hall closet and pulled out a few extra blankets, knowing Bucky probably wouldn't let her use his. He watched her, bright eyes alert as they tracked her movement through the room. She flopped down into the armchair, scrolling through a few movies before stopping on one. "Well? Are you going to join me?" she asked, tucking herself under her blanket as the movie began to load.

He sighed again, crossing the room with those delectably long legs. He stretched out on the black leather couch, the dark color making his exposed skin stand out. In the dim light, his eyes were dark blue, one of the more gorgeous shades she'd seen those eyes take on. She settled into her seat as she watched him adjust, pushing a pillow behind his back and grabbing her spare quilt. He looked almost cute, with sleepy eyes reflecting the light, his hair falling off his face as his head rested against the back of the couch.

Donatella yawned as the beginning scene lulled her into a comfortable state. One of her favorite actors was in this movie, and she moved to tell Bucky this fact when she noticed his eyes were drooping shut, the sunlight almost gone from the room. She smiled to herself and let him be, knowing he could probably use the rest.

She wondered how he'd slept the night before. She went to bed before he did, but he'd also woken up before her as well. She gnawed on her lip, hoping he was doing alright.

The movie droned on, but quickly her attention was taken off the screen when she heard a noise. It took her a moment to realize it was Bucky. She watched, waiting to see if he would do it again.

It wasn't a good noise, it was sharp gasps and whimpers. He must have been having a nightmare. She felt her throat tighten. His life had been hard, she understood that he must have a hard time escaping the bad memories. She got up when his face crumpled into an expression she'd never seen. He looked scared. Tiptoeing gently over, she cooed to him.

"Hey, angel, it's okay. It's just a dream." she reached out, smoothing her hand over his forehead. That was a mistake. His hand popped up, the flesh one, and wrapped around her throat as his eyelids snapped open, those blue eyes piercing and cold, but unseeing. He had her pressed down on the floor, his metal arm reaching to meet his other hand, successfully closing her windpipe. "B-Buck-" she gasped, her hands beating against his solid chest that usually she'd appreciate, but now feared.

She continued to thrash as his fingers tightened around her throat. He could probably snap her windpipe in a second if he wanted to, and she wouldn't be able to do a thing about it. She wished she had her pepper spray, but it was across the room. Black spots danced through her vision as her fingers pried at his hands, and she knew in just a few moments she'd be a goner.

His eyes flashed recognition, finally, and his hands left her throat. She gasped in, air choking her after its absence. She sat up, coughing until her throat felt raw.

"Are you okay?" she whispered hoarsely, and his eyes flashed into a new emotion. They were red rimmed, angry, loathsome, and yet mournful. He stood up quickly, towering above her. Those eyes glared down at her.

"Am I okay?" he repeated, his fists clenching again. She slowly nodded. "I could have killed you."

"You were having a nightmare." she coughed out. "It was my bad, I shouldn't have tried to wake you. You didn't mean to." she rubbed her bruising throat, wincing at the tender flesh. His eyes were looking at her throat now, a sad look in his eyes. They began to glisten, the redness emboldening the blue into a bright crystal, and a solitary tear dripping down his cheek.

"I didn't mean to." he choked out, collapsing back onto the couch. "I didn't mean to." he held his hands up, shaking as he examined them.

"Bucky, it's not your fault." she climbed up to sit next to him, tentatively patting his arm. He didn't move, but his whole body was shivering. He didn't look at her, only at his hands, but he stared straight through them.

"Not my fault." he echoed. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her heart squeeze for him. None of it really was his fault. Nothing he did was in his control. She felt herself moving before she could stop herself, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders, embracing him tightly. He didn't move for a moment, just kept shivering, but then a choked sob bubbled from his chest, and he turned, crushing her to his chest and burying his face into her hair. She felt the wetness from his tears, the puffs of hot air from his sobs, and she felt her own eyes well up with the emotion of the moment. She rubbed soothing circles up and down his back, forcing herself to not think about how good his body felt against hers. His shoulders were shaking with the force of his cries, and she traced her fingers across them, trying to rub some of the tension away. His sobs quieted as he melted bonelessly into her.

"It's okay." she cooed softly, ruffling the hair at the base of his neck. He slowly pulled back, a stoic look back on his face.

"I'm so sorry." his metal fingers traced the already-darkened bruises.

"It's fine, Bucky." she gave a sympathetic smile, the cool metal soothing her skin. "What was the dream?" she regretted asking as soon as his face hardened, his whole body stiffening at her question. She frowned, grabbing his hand to give comfort. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that." she shook her head, running her thumb over his knuckles.

"My first kill." he replied hoarsely. Her own shoulders tensed at this, and she gave him what she hoped was a sympathetic look. "Hydra had me try my arm out the first time. They wanted to see if I could use it properly. I strangled a man until he was purple, and then I snapped his neck." she flinched, one hand unconsciously rubbing her bruised flesh. She looked up into his eyes, but they were unfocused, and he was far away, years away, reliving that moment. She sighed, touching his chin gently.

"That wasn't you." she reminded him. His eyes turned sharp as he looked down at her, his eyebrows coming down to shadow his expression.

"It was." he rasped. "I did all those things."

"They made you do them, Bucky. They took your memories and brainwashed you into becoming a mindless drone. Nobody deserves that, and you definitely don't deserve to blame yourself for your own torture." she practically ordered him to stop feeling sorry for himself. He glanced down at their hands that were still intertwined, his eyebrows furrowing again. He sighed once again, shaking his head before relaxing into the back of the couch. "Do you want me to restart the movie?" she asked, settling next to him and pulling the blanket over both their laps. It was near the end, but it was long, so there was still a good thirty minutes left.

"No." he replied, closing his eyes again. She squeezed his hand, keeping an inch between them in order to let him have his own space. Not that she didn't want to be closer to him. Don would climb that man like a tree if she had the opportunity. But now was not the time to think about things like that, especially because of his recent mental break. He was healing, recovering slowly from his time spent in hell. Those people outside were the monsters, taking him from his life and thrusting him into a world of pain and anguish. And they had the audacity to try and get him back… she felt angry at them. How dare they put him through this? What the hell had Bucky ever done to deserve any of the pain he'd gone through? Absolutely nothing. They deserved ten times, no, a thousand times worse than what they'd done to him. She wanted to make those people suffered for their crimes against humanity.

She would make sure they'd get what was coming to them.

….

"What are you doing?" Bucky appeared in her doorway. She had just brought back breakfast for him, and apparently he'd eaten faster than usual, because he was already bored and needing attention. He was like a little lost puppy and she thought it was so cute half of the time.

The other half, however, sucked ass. She was attempting to re-wire her latest project, stripping wires from their protective coating and soldering them into place. But she kept burning the shit out of her fingers.

"I'm busy." she murmured, sucking on her finger. It hurt like a bitch because she kept getting the same area each time. She peered down at her handiwork, dubbing it good enough for the time being before turning off her soldering supplies and going back to her notebook. She didn't notice Bucky approach on light feet, and she jumped when he spoke from directly behind her.

"What's that?" he pointed at the contraption in front of her. She sighed at the mess of wires and metal.

"It's a work in progress." she pushed some stuff to the side, pointing out the robotic contraption. "It's supposed to be a mechanical arm, something that can help with surgery," she slyly glanced at his gorgeous prosthetic, "but it keeps wigging out and flipping around." she sighed, tugging her hair in frustration.

"Why is it wired in series? It should be in parallel with each specific moving part." he pointed out.

"Well, if I do that, then the parts move in a sequence instead of one fluid motion." she replied, pointing to her notebook. He peered down at her scrawled handwriting, then sighed and pointed to an equation that he seemed to take issue with.

"No, they'd move all together as long as you use the correct amperage, which you aren't." he mentioned. She sputtered, peering down at her notebook and trying to find issue with what he said.

"How the-how'd you know that?" she demanded, quickly going to pull her amp towards her and increasing her voltage. He gave a tiny smirk at her reaction, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of swooning at his handsome face. When her hand moved correctly for once, she turned around to beam at him, tossing her notebook to the floor and spinning in her chair. "God, I could kiss you right now!" she squealed, and his face dropped and he took a step back. "Oh my lord, relax, I'm not going to, I just said I could." she rolled her eyes at his reaction. His shoulders dropped in relief, but he still looked over her work curiously.

"How did you get it all to move like that?" he asked, watching the repetitive motions go through the hand.

"By fixing the amperage, like you said." her brows furrowed as she watched him reach out to fiddle with the wires. He pursed his lips, picking up her notebook and flipping through a few pages. "It's basic robotics, but I'm an engineering student, so I don't always have to work through the mechanics on my own."

"I've never seen one of these created outside a lab before." he peered back down at her dinky little robot. "It's really impressive."

"Honestly, thanks, but I think Tony Stark has been making things ten times more advanced than I have when he was half my age." she replied, scratching the back of her head. "You seem interested in this kind of stuff. Did you ever go to college?" he tensed at her words.

"No." he shook his head slowly, putting the notebook back down. "I remember going to the world expo, in '39, and I saw people dreaming of things like this getting made by people just like you." he smiled. "Sometimes I'm glad I got to see this stuff happening with my own eyes." he looked wistful, and kinda mournful at that. Her heart ached. Bucky would've been dead now, or near death, but he would have witnessed all these changes firsthand. He would have had a cute little wife by his side, probably a bunch of handsome kids, and he would have been happy had it not been for those monsters that ruined him.

"Here." she dropped out of her chair, crawling over to her bed to pull out a bin. She rummaged around in it for a bit, pulling out a few dusty books that she hadn't used since she got her bachelor's degree. "You might find these interesting." there were an array of things, basic robotics, physics, computer science, biology. He stared at them blankly as she held them out to him. "They won't bite, come on dude, they're heavy." she wiggled the really, really thick stack in front of him. He tentatively reached out, picking up the stack of textbooks. He seemed to like reading, a lot based on the amount he'd thumbed through her thesis paper. Bucky brought the stack back out to the living room, finally leaving her to her homework in peace. She had a six page paper on proper waiting room etiquette that she was just dying to finish.

Turning off her surgery-bot, she slumped back into her chair, opening her laptop to see she only had a paragraph to go. Whoever let her decide on a combined degree was an idiot. She couldn't believe that the next day she would have to go back to her student rotation at the clinic on Monday. It felt like she and Bucky had been in a little bubble for the last day, it seemed so much longer than it actually was. She was in her psychiatry rotation at the clinic, which she thought was a waste of her time and talents due to her bioengineering focus, but maybe it could help her with figuring out how to help Bucky. At least then she would be doing something useful with those skills.

She groaned audibly as she tapped out the last few letters, checking her bibliography and submitting the damn paper into the class portal. She sighed in relief, only having a few chapters to read from her diagnosis coursebook before she'd be done with the horrible work. Why did she decide on medical school again? It was hard to figure out. At least she graduated in less than two months. Picking up her big book of medical symptoms, she felt her stomach growling. Skipping breakfast hadn't been smart, but she had been eating a lot with Bucky around, and she didn't want to add on any more pounds than she needed. God, it seemed like he'd been around forever, when it had only been a full day. She groaned as she read the term 'vaginal secretion and odor' and closed the book.

"Okay, gross, I'm done for now." she muttered, kicking around her room before standing in front of the mirror. Her straight hair was frizzy, tied back in a low ponytail. Her turtleneck was black today, but had a knitted pattern that made up for the boring color. She had light wash jeans on, a pair that fit her thighs nicely, but lacked definition in the waist, so she'd cinched everything in with a shiny black belt. She was wearing another pair of animal socks, elephants instead of monkeys. Her face was pale, even with bronzer, and her round hazel eyes looked sunken underneath her pitiful attempt at winged eyeliner.

Freckles peeked out from beneath her full-coverage foundation, and she fought the urge to add more powder to her slightly shiny nose. Her lips were still thin, and she just looked tired. Maybe she could take a nap instead of finishing her reading.

Don wondered what Bucky was up to. Tiptoeing out to the living room, she peered around the corner to see him cuddled under a blanket, a physics book cracked open on his legs. His eyes roved hungrily over the words on the page, and she smiled at the sight. He just wanted to learn, anything and everything it seemed. She thought she'd have to get him more books from the library in a few days. She paused. A few days… how long was he going to be staying? The thought of him leaving made her stomach twist uncomfortably. He seemed to finally have noticed her presence, blue eyes snapping up as his face closed off.

"Do you want a grilled cheese?" She peeled herself off the wall, stepping hesitantly towards him. His face opened up for a moment, some sort of wistful look flickering through his eyes before he became stoic again.

"Sure." Bucky shrugged. She gave him a polite smile, that dark feeling nagging at the back of her mind again. When would he leave? Once the HYDRA agents backed off? She pulled a bag of shredded cheese from the fridge, dropping it onto the counter before turning the range on. It was electric, so she knew it would take ages to heat properly. So she buttered her bread and began heating the pan up slowly, Bucky had gone back to reading behind her, and she puttered around the kitchen nervously. Maybe he would leave soon. And she'd be… alone again. She'd have Karina to come over once in a while, but having someone always there waiting for her was nice. It kept the bad thoughts away, those lonely hateful things that crept up in the middle of the night. The ones that silently choked you with tears and self-loathing, where there was no escape from the pain.

Those nights happened more often than not since Jacob left. She felt her body tense at the thought of him. She slapped some bread down into the hot pan, sprinkling cheese over the bread and putting a lid to trap the heat and melt the cheese. She buttered her next piece as she let it cook, sighing frustratedly to herself. She threw the piece of bread on top and flipped the sandwich, wincing at the nearly burnt side. She made a mental note to take the other side off the heat sooner as she prepped her next sandwich.

"Here, you can have this first one, it's a little overdone." She tossed it into a plate and set it on the table in front of him.

"Thanks." He murmured, his metal hand reaching down absent-mindedly, his eyes still roaming the pages of the book. She made him a second sandwich right away before making hers, and she slumped in the armchair, chewing without tasting. She stared straight ahead at the wall, eyes unseeing as she thought about the days leading up to Bucky's arrival. She'd been dreadfully lonely, only going between her room, the library, and the cafeteria. She'd fallen into a slump since Jacob, barely going out on weekends with Karina anymore. Her only friend had just about given up on her. Lunch the day previous had been the first time they'd hung out outside her dorm in a long time, and even then it was just because she had to keep Bucky hidden. She blinked, startled from her reverie at a hand prodding her shoulder.

"What?" She shook herself out of her stupor, turning to face Bucky who'd apparently gotten up off the couch and over to her side without her noticing.

"I asked if you were okay." He frowned, moving backwards to perch on the edge of the couch cushion. She gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm just fine, just a little out of it today." She chuckled sheepishly. His frown deepened, obviously not buying it. "Sorry, I think I might take a nap. I didn't sleep well last night." She faked a yawn, standing quickly and grabbing her plate. "Let me know if you get hungry." She threw the plate in the sink and scurried into her room, shutting the door hard behind her. She felt bad, leaving him like that, but she didn't know what to do. All these thoughts of Jacob in her head caused her heart to clench and her fingers to tremble, and she knew Bucky could read her better than any book. It must have been all that assassin training, being able to figure people out at a glance. She climbed into bed, pulling her blankets over her head with a quivering sob. Jacob.

Thinking about that last interaction hurt. She hated that she missed him, hated that she still dreamed about him. She hated that she was still got scared when she saw someone that resembled him on the street, her breath hitching in her throat at the thought of his face. He was roguishly handsome, sandy blonde hair and deep brown eyes that she could never quite read. He always had some form of smirk playing across his lips, and whenever he faced her with that look she was a goner. Her eyes itched when her throat tightened, thinking about that last time. He didn't look happy. She wasn't either, she supposed, but that smirk was a scowl and those pretty brown eyes were angry and he'd raised his hand against her. That was her last straw. He'd turned her face black and blue for the last time. She called the cops, tossed him out on his ass, and told him she'd never wanted to see him again.

But she mourned those happy times. If she could have seen him one more time, one more of the good times, things might have been different. Karina had held her as she sobbed, a puffy black eye and split lip stinging from the tears she'd cried over him. Karina was pissed that he'd done those things to her, but Don just wanted to know where she had gone wrong. Why wasn't he happy with her? Why did he hurt her? Was it out of disappointment? Rage? Was it just because he was drunk? She felt her face get wet from her tears as her sobs wracked her body. Suddenly, the blanket was snatched from her body and she peered up, ashamed at Bucky hovering over her.

"Don't… don't look at me." She weakly pressed her face into her pillow, shuddering as she forced the tears to stop.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, sitting down next to her on the bed. His metal fingers gripped her shoulder, turning her body so she was looking at him.

"I-it's nothing." She hiccuped, wiping her face and grimacing at the black mascara that was apparently all over her face. She tried to sit up, but Bucky's flesh hand had wrapped around her waist and tugged her into his lap. She felt her fingers grip at the soft cotton of his black crew neck, and the way his hand tenderly splayed across her back made her lose it. She bawled, surely soaking the shirt with black mascara tears.

"Donatella." His voice came out light and comforting. "What's the matter, doll?" She felt her body sag at the term of endearment. Had he called her that before? She couldn't remember.

"I'm sorry." She sniffled, pulling back in an attempt to compose herself. "I'm just… it's hard to explain." She wipes her face again, relieved to see that there was no more dripping mascara.

"What happened?" He asked soothingly, his palm smoothing up and down her back comfortingly. She relaxed a bit more, slumping further into his embrace.

"It's just… my ex." She chuckled sadly. "Kinda pathetic that I'm still crying over him, I haven't seen him in months." She sighed, tugging her hair.

"Bad breakup?" He sympathized, eyes flashing with some unreadable emotion.

"Worse than you could imagine." She laughed again without humor. Another shuddering breath wracked through her body, and he tightened his grip. "I called the cops on him." She admitted. His hand stopped.

"Why?" He asked cautiously. She rolled her eyes a bit, not really wanting to reveal the whole story.

"I had to report him… for assault." Don sighed, trying to pull away. His arm tightened around her, and the mask he usually wore dropped, revealing his horrified expression. Those blue eyes were so filled with concern that it made her want to slap him. She was fine. Why couldn't people see that?

"He hurt you?" The shock seeped away, slowly being replaced with rage. She winced, not expecting that reaction. She sorted through her response carefully before answering.

"It wasn't… bad. A couple of times he'd come over angry about something, and he took it out on me I guess. It was usually something I could ignore, a slap, or a swing. Sometimes a shove. He'd make up for it, and he felt bad, honestly. But that last time…" she shuddered, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It got worse. And I thought to myself, why am I putting up with this? Why do I think I deserve this?" She shrugged. "He was just so mad. Thought I'd been cheating on him or something. I don't know where he got that idea, and now I guess I'll never find out." She finished. His hand had continued moving along her shoulder blades, giving her enough courage to finish her story.

"He sounds like a real asshole." He grimaced, his lips pursing in a disgusted sort of fashion. She barked out an unamused laugh.

"That's what everyone says." She replied. She sighed, untangling herself from his surprisingly comforting embrace. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that whole freak out to happen."

"Don't apologize." He shook his head, standing again. "I just needed to make sure you were okay."

"Thanks." Her voice fell softly as he walked from the room.

How could a rough, gruff man still be so sweet?

Here's the new update! Thank you guys so much for being so supportive of the story so far, it means a lot to me. I hope everyone that reads this enjoys it! 3