"Leaving your tears on my shoulder while your eyes beg me to stay. We were finally changing, it's our luck we're a little too late. I'd take you with me if there was a way. Sorry don't cut it, so I say…" Only Place I Call Home by Every Avenue
(I listened to this while writing, as well as a few others. Thought I'd share that with you. Enjoy!)
Anna hated waiting. She had paced her small room, where they insisted she stay, more times than she could keep track of. The distractions she attempted didn't work, as the thought of what was happening with James distracted her from those distractions. Her wrist was red from constantly snapping the hair tie against it to try and diffuse some of her tension. With no clock she had no way of telling how long it'd been since he'd left. It felt like hours. When her door finally opened, and the agent informed her 'the asset' was in transport, Anna practically exploded out of the door. She hadn't wanted the agent to lock her back in.
Anna returned to her pacing once she reached the infirmary, still antsy as the agent hadn't informed her what state James was returning in. The whole situation wasn't one Anna was used to. True, Steve had gone on plenty of missions that were probably just as dangerous as James' mission. However, Steve had a whole team that had his back, who cared if he made it out unscathed, so Anna never worried. Also, Anna was rarely deemed important enough by SHIELD to know about missions beforehand. She was more of an after-the-fact call; less chance to worry if you didn't know it was happening until it was over. But with Hydra, their agents didn't seem the type to care what happened to James, as long as he finished the mission. That thought had her worry skyrocketing and sped up her stride.
It was as she was mid-turn in her pacing that she caught the movement from the corner of her eye. Realizing it was James had Anna changing her direction, closing the distance between them while her eyes shifted across his body for any signs of injuries. When nothing blatant jumped out at her, she allowed her heart to relax. Focusing on his face, she noticed the frustrated confusion in his eyes. Had the mission not gone according to plan?
"Hey, you okay?" Anna asked carefully, concern coloring her voice, when she came to a standstill just inches from him. At the sound of her voice, James' eyes moved to meet hers.
"I don't know." He murmured, his brow creasing as he continued to pull at the thread in the back of his mind where he knew the memory of the man on the bridge lied.
"Well, let's get you out of this suit so I can find out," Anna stated, raising her hands to unbuckle the strap of the holster. Normally James insisted on removing the uniform himself after missions, but he enjoyed the excuse to be close to Anya. She was familiar and safe. She helped him focus his thoughts. So James let her pull each piece of his suit off, relishing in the periodic brush of her fingers against his skin as she moved the armor off until he was left standing only in his pants and boots.
It wasn't until James' armor had been removed that Anna noticed the mechanic hovering behind him, holding tools that Anna knew were meant for James' mechanical arm. It hadn't escaped her scrutiny that his left arm had a panel out of place. Anna just hadn't considered it an immediate concern. At the moment all Anna cared about was making sure James was physically and mentally okay as a whole.
"I'm looking at him first. You can fix his arm after I've cleared him." Anna insisted, not waiting for the mechanic to respond before slipping her hand into James' and gently pulling him towards he chair.
James allowed Anya to lead him to the chair, sitting down when she pressed lightly on his soldiers and remaining quiet as she checked his body for any physical wounds. It was no surprise to him when she didn't find any, he knew there wasn't any physical damage done. Still, he let her examine him just as an excuse to feel her skin against his. It was comforting, steadying.
Once Anna was satisfied that, from the neck down, James hadn't sustained any injury, she moved on to his face. Brushing his hair from his face and tucking it behind his ears, Anna let her fingers linger for a moment on his cheek before turning her focus back to her job. There were no contusions that she saw, though a slight bruise shaded his forehead the lightest of purple. Grabbing the light pen, Anna examined James' eyes, noticing their slight lack of reaction to it.
"I think you might have a small concussion," Anna murmured, brushing the shorter hairs that had escaped from behind his ears out of his face. "What did you hit your head on?"
At Anya's question, James vision was lost to the memory of the blonde target smashing his shield into James' face. The vision continued until it paused on the look of recognition the blonde had when he saw James without his mask, a look that James couldn't forget. None of it made sense to him. It was like he had a couple pieces of the puzzle, ones that didn't even fit together, and yet his brain was still trying to see the whole picture.
"The man, on the bridge." James' mumbled, his eyes looking straight ahead, unseeing.
"What?" Anna asked, a little concerned that James wasn't making sense. Perhaps the concussion was worse than she'd first thought.
"The blonde target, on the bridge. The one with the shield. I…I think I knew him." Anna's hand stilled as James' words finally started making sense to her. Steve had been his mission, who he had been sent to kill. Her thoughts began to run wild, wondering if James' had been successful and if Steve was really gone, before his last words hit her like a brick wall.
James remembered Steve. Or, at least, a part of him was telling him he should remember Steve. The confusion and frustration when he had first returned suddenly made sense. James was trying to remember why the target had been familiar. There was a part of his mind, the part that still contained Bucky, fighting to be heard. That realization almost brought tears to Anna's eyes.
"You did know him," Anna whispered before she had considered the possible consequences of her words. By the time she realized what she had said, James eyes were already on hers. The hope that she saw in them—the hope that someone might be able to help him understand the memories that were fighting to be remembered—made not telling him impossible. Anna would give anything to help James not hurt, to help him heal. No matter what happened to her for it, she had to tell him.
"His name is Steve Rogers. He was your best friend. You grew up as close as brothers, and he followed you to war. You were each other's family." Anna rushed out, giving the basics so as not to overwhelm him. When James' forehead only creased more, she was worried she'd done just that. She hadn't realized that her words had caused even more pictures to fly through James' mind, more of the puzzle pieces. Scattered memories of the tiny version of Steve bloody and beaten in back alleys, and then of the bigger version he'd seen today helping to support James' weight while explosions went off around them. Both memories he'd heard the name the blonde had used today: Bucky.
"Who's Bucky?" James asked, desperate to know why the man had called him that. Why it sounded so familiar to him. At that point, he was so caught up in his own head, James hadn't even noticed the mechanic had started working on his arm. Anna had, as the man had sent her a quiet glare when he heard what she was talking about. Everyone knew that particular subject was off limits. His glare was meant as a warning to the young doctor, but Anna didn't heed it. She had already resolved herself to whatever punishment she'd receive for talking about James' past.
"You are. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. Steve called you Bucky for short." Anna murmured the last part. "I'm so sorry I never told you James." She should have. She should have told him as soon as he started talking to her. God, she could only hope he wouldn't feel too betrayed, that he wouldn't resent her too much.
Anya's apology struck James as odd. He had never given her any inkling that he had started remembering images he couldn't understand. If he had discussed them with her, had mentioned seeing the skinny boy who was apparently named Steve in his mind, perhaps it would have given Anya a reason to explain to him. It was as much his fault as hers that it was never mentioned. But she felt guilty for it. He had seen it flash in her eyes at her apology. It was apparent in the way her shoulders sagged as she avoided looking at him now. Reaching out for her, he managed to get a hold on her hand, squeezing it gently in hopes that she'd understand he didn't blame her. That he appreciated that she'd told him now.
The contact startled Anna, but what surprised her even more was the look in James' eyes. He wasn't angry with her, or hurt. Instead, he seemed to be grateful. He was trying to reassure her that everything was all right, even while his mind must be so tangled up and confused. It was at that touching thought that she felt a single tear trickle down her cheek. Anna quickly pulled her hand away from James to wipe it away, embarrassed that it had escaped at all.
"You were a Sergeant you know," Anna quickly rattled off another fact Steve had told her about James' past to distract him from the fact that her emotions had spilled over in the form of that single tear. She had no idea that that simple statement would unleash another torrent of images in James' mind.
The new images weren't as nice as the other ones. There was a man calling him Sergeant, just as Anya had. But this man had been the enemy. His face brought only the memory of pain and anger as he was the one who experimented on him, who had given him his metal arm. Then he just packed him away for when they would need him, locking him in a confining box where all James felt was freezing cold before his mind and body went numb.
The memory resulted in James' tensing, and lashing out at the mechanic who had been finishing up on his arm, sending him flying across the room. The commotion had the agents that Anna had insisted wait in the hall, rushing into the infirmary with their guns locked and loaded on James. Anna could see James' stress growing as he eyed down the agents who threatened him. Before he made a move that would send a dozen bullets drilling into him, Anna stepped in front of him, gently resting her hands on either side of his face while murmuring his name.
Feeling Anya's soft touch brought James spiraling back to the present. He pulled all of his focus and put it on her: concentrating on her voice whispering his name, her calming touch, and her eyes that bore into him, reassuring him everything was okay. Relaxing his fists, James reached out to rest his hands on either side of Anya's waist, allowing her to be his anchor. When Anya's thumbs started tracing soothing circles on his cheeks, James let his eyes drift shut as he matched his breaths with hers. Though his body and mind were relaxed, his heart was once again speeding up, as it always seemed to do when Anya was around.
"Sir, he's unstable. Erratic." A guard from outside commented, momentarily drawing Anna's attention away from James. The comment angered Anna, as clearly James was completely stable now. They just didn't know how to help him, they only knew how to hurt him, they only cared about controlling him.
Anna didn't see Pierce entering the room behind her, as she kept her eyes on James, whose eyes were still closed. When Pierce stepped around the guards to see the Soldier simply sitting there quietly, he motioned for the agents to lower their guns. There was no immediate threat, though he did find it odd that the doctor he had kidnapped seemed to be providing comfort to the asset instead of medical attention.
Rumlow, who had followed Pierce into the infirmary, had his hand hovering over the handgun in his holster upon entering. His grip only moved to tighten around the gun when he saw the asset's hands on Anna's waist, as well as her hands on his face. It wasn't right. Rumlow had tried so hard to get Anna to notice him. Of course, it started out as more of a desire to one-up the Captain, who always stole the spotlight at SHIELD ever since someone decided to unfreeze his ass. But the longer Rumlow tried to win Anna's attention away from the beloved Captain America, the less it had to do with the Cap and the more it had to do with the fact that her personality drew him in.
Anna didn't take crap from Fury or any of the agents, including himself, she wasn't aloof or smug when it came to her medical skills like all the other doctors SHIELD had hired before, and though she liked Rogers, she didn't fawn all over him like most of the females in the agency. That, combined with the fact that she was highly attractive yet didn't seem to know it, had Rumlow actually falling for the person he had first seen as a means to steal a little glory from the Cap. Now that he finally managed to get her away from the Captain, she choose the asset to be the new receiver of her affections, and that had his anger boiling to the surface. Pierce's orders for his men to stand down only increased Rumlow's rage. If anything they should keep their aim on the Soldier and pull Anna away. Instead, Pierce simply led the way closer to the two, Rumlow following silently behind.
"Doctor." Pierce addressing her was what finally forced Anna to step back, her hands falling from James' face as she moved to stand beside him. Not ready to relinquish all contact with him, both for her sake and for his, Anna let her left hand rest lightly on James' shoulder. As soon as she was out of his way, Pierce's full attention was on James. "Mission report." Pierce demanded, sounding as if he was giving orders to a machine and expecting that machine to spit back the facts he wanted.
James remained silent, even after Pierce repeated his order. He was trying hard not to let the memories run rampant again, focusing on Anya's touch to keep him from slipping into a past he still didn't know or understand. It was working, until Pierce backhanded him across the face, causing James to lose hold of his concentration. James sensed Anya tensing at the violence more than saw it, as images of the blonde, of Steve, filtered through his head faster than he could comprehend.
"The target was my friend," James muttered, remembering what Anya had told him, focusing on what he did know in order to stop his thoughts from moving too quickly.
"What?" Pierce snapped, confused at the way the Soldier responded and at what he had said.
"His name is Steve Rogers. He was my best friend." James continued muttering, more to himself than to Pierce. It seemed the more he focused on the details, the less hazy the pictures were, the more they slowed down so that he could concentrate on one at a time.
Pierce was stunned for a moment, as he contemplated how the Soldier knew, with such devotion, who Rogers was. It didn't take long before the logical answer came to mind, as Pierce recalled the way he had first found the Winter Soldier in the infirmary: Anna. She had developed a soft spot for the asset, one that might just have cost her, her life.
"I warned you what would happen if you told him," Pierce growled angrily. With the same hand he had used against the asset, Pierce struck Anna hard on the side of the face. It had her head whipping down at the sheer force of the blow. When she turned her face back up towards him, Pierce could see the cut on her lip glistening with a drop of blood. It gave him a feeling of satisfaction.
At the sound of Pierce striking Anya, James was ripped from his memories even more effectively than when Pierce had struck him. James barely had time to register what exactly had happened before Pierce had his hand around Anya's neck, pressing on her windpipe and cutting off her circulation. The sight of Anya not being able to breathe, the thought of her dying, had James' heart constricting in fear and his jaw clenching in anger. Rising from his seat, James wrapped his metal arm around Pierce's wrist, crushing it until Pierce loosened his grip on Anya with a cry of pain, before pulling it away and pushing Pierce back several feet.
Anya was sputtering and coughing as soon as Pierce's hand was removed, trying to suck in as much air as she could. Ignoring the guns that were once again pointing at him, James' hands carefully went to cup Anya's face, his right thumb brushing away the blood from her cut lip. Seeing her injuries, and the bruising that was starting to color her cheek and throat, had James' shoulders tensing and his eyes turning cold as steel. He was about to turn back to Pierce before Anya spoke up.
"It's okay, James. Really, I'll be fine." Her voice was hoarse and weak, making James skeptical about her insistence that she was fine. However, when his gaze flickered from her injuries to her eyes, he saw her fear, not for her, but for him. She was pleading with him to let it go so he wouldn't risk his own retribution. And though every part of him wanted to get his hands on Pierce and return the favor he'd done to Anya, James forced himself to calm down. Because Anya believed he could be more than a weapon, and he wanted to prove that he was.
So, instead of going after Pierce, James simply returned to his seat. The guns were still pointed at him, as the agents weren't convinced that he wouldn't do something rash. Pierce, on the other hand, knew he wouldn't attack again. Not because of the guns, but because of the doctor. He cared about her and adjusted his actions accordingly, hence him attacking Pierce when he threated the doctor. But Hydra was all about order, and order didn't come from caring, it came from pain.
"Wipe him, and start over," Pierce ordered the decision he had come to. He was losing his control over the Winter Soldier, and that needed to be rectified.
"No!" Anna shouted hoarsely, taking a step closer to James. She didn't care what kind of scene she made, it wasn't right. They shouldn't punish James for something that was entirely her fault. "Please, don't do it," Anna begged, horrified at the idea of losing James. He'd come so far since she'd gotten there, they couldn't take that away from him. They couldn't take that away from her.
"Thanks to you, he knows too much." Pierce stated coldly, his eyes showing no emotion but cruel satisfaction. "Besides, he's obviously grown too attached to you." With that he nodded to the men that had come to stand beside James during the whole ordeal. At the signal, the men pulled James back in the chair until he was leaning fully back in it.
"You're a monster. You have no regard for life," Anna started shouting at Pierce hysterically, angry at both Pierce and herself. It was her fault James would lose his newfound memories. If she hadn't answered his questions, if she hadn't comforted him in view of Hydra, he wouldn't be in this position. And now there was nothing she could do to rectify the situation. That killed her. "You think you're building a better world. That's Bullshit. What the world really needs protected from is you." Anna continued her rage filled rant, only stopping when she heard his voice.
"Anya." That's all James said, her name, but when she turned her attention on him his eyes told her what he really wanted to say. 'I'm okay. It's going to be okay.' He didn't want her getting hurt again, not because of him. It wasn't until she retreated, going to stand beside him, that he accepted the mouth guard from one of the men with a glare at Pierce. It was Pierce who wanted to wipe his memories, who always gave the order. Most times, James' hadn't really even cared, but this time. This time he had so much more to lose.
His defiant glare quickly subsided when the restraints clamped down on his arms. It had been a while since he'd been wiped, but he could never forget the horrifying pain it inflicted. What made it worse was the knowledge that when it was all over and done with, he wouldn't remember Anya. With both those thoughts bouncing around his mind, James' breathing became heavy and sporadic as the anxiety kicked in. Anya slipping her small hand in his resulted in conflicting emotions. One being further despair that she would be ripped away from his memory in just a few moments. The other, being determination to hold on to her for as long as he could.
James allowed himself a moment, squeezing Anya's hand before releasing his grip on her. As much as he wanted to maintain that contact with her, if she was touching him during the wipe, the electrical charge would run straight through his body to hers. As soon as he had dropped her hand, Anya positioned herself in his line of sight, keeping eye contact with him. It made his desire to reach out to her all the stronger.
Anna moving into James' line of sight was as much for her as it was for him. She hoped that seeing her face before it was all over might instill it in his memory; that he might be able to hold onto it. Because she desperately didn't want to lose him. She also wanted him to know he wasn't alone. Not now, not ever. Even when he didn't remember her, she would never stop trying to bring him back. Because he had proven that he could fight back against Hydra and their mental manipulation. If he did it once, he could do it again.
When the machine began moving towards James, Anna had to restrain herself from reaching out to him at the sight of his complete fear for what was coming. It was even harder when the process began and the sound of his pain echoed around the room. It took every effort for her not to close her eyes at the sound of his pain, but she managed, keeping her eyes locked on his as she let the tears fall freely down her face.
Anna didn't know how long the process would last, nor did she get to know. As Pierce left the room, he ordered Rumlow to remove her as well. She resisted against Rumlow's grip, refusing to leave James' alone in the state of Hell he was in. It wasn't until Rumlow murmured words that both broke her and angered her that she turned towards him.
"There's no point in staying. He won't remember you." Rumlow muttered harshly in Anna's ear, feeling she needed to get a grip on the truth.
With the energy Anna had left, she glared up at Rumlow through her tears, before finally allowing him to pull her away. Not that she made it completely easy for him, as she kept her body facing James, not looking away again until the infirmary bars clanked shut behind her. He was still shouting in pain, she could hear it even as they moved further down the hall. It had her heart constricting tighter and more tears spilling from her eyes. All she wanted was James' pain to end, for him to be next to her, for him to remember her. All she got was the reminder that he might look right through her the next time she saw him as his screams reached her even from behind her closed door.
A/N Hello my lovely readers! Let me start by saying this would have gone up yesterday if I hadn't had to work. But it's up now, and I hope you enjoyed it even with the wait. This was actually a pretty difficult chapter for me to write, so I hope it turned out alright! It's also a little longer than some of the previous ones so…I'm sorry for those who don't like that and you're welcome for those that do like it.
OH! And I've been meaning to ask this of you guys for a lil while. If any of you are artistically talented (in drawing or painting or photoshop etc) and you'd be inclined to do fan-inspired art for this fic (as I attempted doing on pinterest but without my adobe photoshop on this computer I am limited) I would love to see what you guys come up with! If you're interested you can message me and I'll give you my email so you can send it. Or if you think of another way for me to see it that's fine. I could even post it to this stories pinterest page. Just a suggestion. Maybe I'd even repay the favor by writing a one-shot of your choice :) (suggestions include Steve's first kiss since 1945, Tony discovering Anna left for school without telling him, Rumlow meeting Anna for the first time, and any others that you think of.)
Thank you all for your continued support of this story as you favorite/follow and review. You always astound me by your positive responses. I love it! Now, onto the guest review responses.
First to the guest I accidentally forgot to mention last time (the one who commented on how fast I was updating and that it must be a record: first I'm sorry I forgot you last time, it was completely unintentional. I do appreciate you taking the time to review and I'm very happy to hear you're enjoying both the story and my consistent posting!
To the guest who 'can't wait to see what happens next' I hope this chapter reached your expectations!
To the guest who mentioned really liking Rumlow even though he's an ass: I respect your like for the character. Every story needs a Rumlow. And with Rumlow, he will always be doing something evil. Glad you enjoyed the fight scene!
To the guest who absolutely loved the moment in the lab as well as felt sympathy for Steve finding Bucky with Anna's ID: I agree with your sigh during the lab scene, I sighed while writing it because I'm a sucker for touching moments. As you now know, this chapter was the memory wipe, and it might be horrible of me to say, but I kind of hope it was heartbreaking. Because that would mean I wrote it right. And I so hope I did. It was a hard one to write, because I wanted to get emotions across. Hopefully I was successful!
To the guest who signed from A Fan: Thank you for fully supporting the idea of cheesiness. I am happy to hear that I am not the only one who minds a little cheesy every now and then. You mentioned how James/Bucky took back Anna's ID from Steve, I just wanted to clarify that—unfortunately—James didn't get the ID back. It was Rumlow who took it from Steve's hand when he arrested him. I'll mention to you what I've mentioned to another guest reader, and that is I hope it doesn't make me sound horrible that I kind of hope this chapter made you want to cry. That's the reaction I was going for when writing this chapter. I can't answer your questions pertaining to James' memory just yet, and your last one about Pierce was answered during this chapter.
To the guest who had the question about Rumlow: I took your comment into consideration and tried to illustrate a little of my/Rumlow's brain process on how he came to like Anna in this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it/that it was okay. I find it hard to write from Rumlow's POV. I'm not sure why. Anyways, if you have any more suggestions, or you weren't satisfied with the info you got from this chapter, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Maybe a possible one-shot from Rumlow's POV is in order if I can't fit it into this story line.
To redhead01: I keep meaning to add my response to you in here since you have private messaging turned off and I can't respond that way. Anyways, thank you for continually reviewing, you are awesome. And I'm glad to hear that you too enjoy the cheesiness. I think the world would be a much nicer place if more people embraced the cheesy lol.
Rach
xoxo