Chapter Text
“Stop.”
The single syllable resonated through space, bouncing off walls and drumming into the asset’s mind. It rattled the floors and wrestled with his swirling, panicked thoughts, shocking them into silence. The Asset froze in place, capable only of staccato breaths. Her left arm mirrored his right, held straight out, nearly touching the gun trained on her heart. His wide eyes glared into the icy glow of hers.
“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You're a son, a brother, Steve's Beta. You were born in Brooklyn in 1917, fought in World War II, and were captured and kept prisoner. HYDRA tried to warp your mind and used you for terrible things. But you fought back every time - and you’ve finally found your freedom again.”
The Asset -no, I’m Bucky, I’m not - I'm - stop- gasped for air, on the verge of hyperventilation. His mind began to clear, edges of his vision no longer tinged red. Her speech echoed in his head, but the pain disappeared, the floral scent of omega sweet on his tongue. Then he could move, so he collapsed to his knees, the gun clattering and skidding across the hardwood of the common room to rest at a couch’s foot.
The girl kneeled in front of him, gently took his chin, and pointed his face towards hers again.
“You are not what you have been forced to be, Bucky. You are a good man.” She paused a moment, the hand holding his chin trembling as the other whispered against his cheek, catching the trailing tears. “You are a good man, and one we all love very much,” she said, voice no longer ringing with power but whispering like a confession.
Bucky dropped his head to her left shoulder, tears streaming and breath shuddering in earnest now. She tugged him flush against her, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. He felt her chin move against his cheek to look up past him. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled, and the glimmering blue light shining through Bucky's eyelids disappeared. The next second, she and Bucky were enveloped in a strong grasp, a familiar grasp, arms that kept their shaking bones from shattering apart, as they always did.
Bucky chuckled low, rumbling in his chest. “I don’t know what we’d do without you,” he muttered. He pulled back, and she sat down on her heels to look him in the face again. He swiped the back of one hand across his eyes, the other reaching to entangle with Steve’s behind him.
“I’m so sorry-“ he began, but the girl cut him off, shaking her head.
“Don't even think of apologizing. It's shit, and you know it. The only people who should be sorry are the few sick bastards left who hurt you.” Her anger smelled like sun-scorched pavement, tickling Bucky’s nose when he sniffed back the last of his tears. The girl got to her feet and turned toward the door, away from Steve and Bucky. Her scent sharpened with self-loathing. “No one should have the power to control peoples’ minds.”
The girl began to walk away.
“Ryan, wait. Please.”
Steve used his Captain America voice, the one that brought all attention to him if it wasn’t already there. Ryan paused, turning half-back to face the wall. “You just helped Bucky out of his worst flashback in months. I wasn’t even enough to do that.” Regret from his mate swirled sour in the air, worsened by the guilt from Ryan. Bucky burrowed his face into Steve's chest to avoid it. “You brought him back. We can never thank you enough.”
Fuck. Bucky hated himself, the unavoidable fact that he was responsible for the danger and worry and pain they all went through. As if in response, Steve hummed against him, low and soothing, one hand grasping the back of his neck. As always, Steve’s arms remained his solid ground.
Bucky looked up to see Ryan smile weakly, those sky-blue eyes still pointed at the floor. “That doesn’t change facts, Steve. Wrong actions with good intentions might be pretty common, but they’re still a few shades grayer than I can justify. At least, in my case.” She turned and walked out, eyes fixed ahead.
Bucky felt Steve’s arms tighten around him further. Lips brushed against his temple. “Steve?” he murmured.
“Yeah, Buck?”
“I want her. Forever.”
“Yeah. Me too.”