"Y/n! Captain Rogers!"

"Hi Shuri." Y/n forced a weak smile and pulled her in for a hug. "It's nice to see you."

"I just wish it was under better circumstances." Shuri sighed as her lips tightened into a frown, walking into the room where Bucky was being scanned by one of the countless vibranium-made machinery that seemed to work like magic itself. Shuri and a few other workers discussed quietly in front of one of the massive screens while Bucky laid in a drowsy state behind them.

"It's weird, being back here." Steve appeared behind Y/n as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip anxiously. It took her a moment to realize what he meant, how the last time he had been here, she had been the one in the med room. "It's weird for me too."

"Worse, I'd imagine." Steve offered a sympathetic smile, which Y/n couldn't help but return, appreciating the effort of optimism.

She would never hold any animosity towards the breathtaking city, not when it had been the first place that welcomed a sense of freedom. But upon first arriving all those months ago, it had been the feeling of vulnerability. Unsure just where she would belong after everything she'd done. That was just what HYDRA wanted.

"You cannot possibly run away. Where else would you be accepted as the killer you are? Here, HYDRA is your one and only place of belonging."

She glanced towards a window to her left. "I know he isn't dying... but it's just exhausting, you know? Not just for him, but for me too. Running away from something you want to leave in the past, and having to throw yourself into one fight after the other."

Steve could only nod in response. To answer her question, he didn't know. He would never know. It pained him each and every day that his best friend had been tortured and caged for 70 years, brainwashed into murder that he would never stop blaming himself for. Burdened with relentless and endless nightmares that caused Steve to have a trained ear when his troubled friend needed him most. His heart ached at the idea of Y/n going through a similar ordeal, and he couldn't help but feel guilty of that fact that he could never provide the same ounce of friendship and comfort to her as he could to Bucky.

"Steve?" Y/n's soft voice brought Steve back to reality and he blinked. Fury had shown him the photos from Y/n's file against Nat's wishes, and since then Steve tensed every time he met her softened gaze.

"Yeah, sorry. Do you mind keeping an eye on him? I'm gonna grab a coffee."

Y/n smiled and nodded, turning as he left her alone at the corner of the med room. She only wished Shuri had figured out how to erase the effects of the trigger words after nearly two years, yet Shuri's expression determined the answer to be a simple "not yet." Y/n was grateful nonetheless, that Shuri and the other Wakandan doctors remained true to their promise of not giving up.

One of the Dora Milaje, Ayo, had approached Y/n a few days after first being rescued by Nat. Y/n had once watched from her bedroom window as her and Okoye led the rest of the Doras, training outside in the blazing heat. She'd been in pure awe at their precision and fierceness that she had never seen in any other army or military before. Ayo's stoic demeanor had softened however, when she first introduced herself to Y/n as someone who'd been working to help Bucky heal from HYDRA's influence.

"I know your day will surely arrive." She had told Y/n with a gentle smile. Y/n replayed that moment every so often as a reminder that she now had a ounce of hope.

And that she wasn't alone.

She made her way to the small kitchen located on the same floor of the building and brewed a simple cup of coffee using the home grown coffee beans Shuri always raved about.

"You will never want a Starbucks drink again after trying this, I bet you ten bucks." She remember Shuri taunting her a few months back.

Safe to say the ten bucks was 100% worth it.

Y/n secured the lid on her to-go cup and took it with her on her stroll around the outskirts of the capital. She let the earthy, humid air fill her lungs that gracefully replaced the murky Manhattan pollution, reveling in the scenery of lush greenery and the amber sunset that painted the edge of the sky.

"You would've loved it here, dad." She let a shaky breath escape her lips as she pictured his kind eyes reflecting the glow of the sunset as he stood next to her, his Walkman playing some slow R&B tunes. She reached a small cliff-side and sat at its edge, dangling her feet above the thick forest beneath her.

She had a fear of heights, once. And a fear of spiders and other bugs, maybe a small fear of clowns. It was ironic, almost. "A little bug isn't gonna kill you, child. You won't die from something so silly." She remembered her father chuckling and nudging her little arm with his elbow.

It was uncanny that she'd become the supposed killer. The painful consideration crossed her mind; maybe children were now taught to fear her instead.

Nothing would ever be more haunting, seeing those with her red starred emblem knife in their chests plague her dreams with their bedeviling gaze.

Every night.

Then there were the nights her mother appeared instead. Like an annoying reappearing guest on a late night television show that nobody truly liked, yet they were everywhere. Always.

"They'll fix you, wherever you're off to." Y/n could hear her say, that very last night she would ever her again. "I don't know, and frankly I don't care. I've had enough of you being here, tormenting me with that same fucking look your own father used to have." And Y/n found herself pitying her, sometimes. She didn't want to, not when her mother was the direct cause of her anguish. But she acknowledged it, that her mother too had missed her father, and loved him and his kind soul even if he'd become a distant memory.

Y/n glanced down at her phone lock screen. It'd been about an hour and she needed to check on her metal-armed friend.

"Hey.." She knocked lightly on the door of the private room Bucky had been relocated to. She frowned at the unfamiliar silence that followed, usually granted the advantage of altered hearing to let her know if she could come in or not. It came in handy when Wanda would pretend to be asleep for team meetings, when it was completely clear to Y/n that she was very much awake and watching Modern Family with the volume down.

The doors of Bucky's room prevented just that. She knocked a little louder this time. "I-I just wanted to check if you're alright, Buck. Not trying to invade your space or anything. Just let me know if you need anything..."

"Or you know, if you need someone to talk to." She whispered, more so to herself. After waiting patiently for a few seconds, she blew out a sigh, having received the message. She knew he wasn't asleep; she'd watched Steve leave his room five minutes prior.

"Stubborn, that one." Y/n whirled around at the familiar voice and the glint of a vibranium spear in her peripheral.

Her lips immediately perked into a smile. "Ayo, how are you?"

"On break, for now." The Dora soldier replied with a huff. "New mission tomorrow morning. Thought I should say hello while you are still here. How have things been going for you, Miss Y/l/n?."

Y/n nodded as she folded her arms, dropping her gaze to the floor. "It's been... hard." She said meekly.

Ayo glanced behind her towards the med room. "Seems like quite the understatement if you ask me."

Y/n breathed out a humorless chuckle, shrugging and pulling on her hoodie strings. "These past few hours have just shown me the chains that still keep me bound to HYDRA in some way. And there's this growing rage inside of me that I'm scared will put my team in danger again if I run off to fight alone again. I just..."

"You wish to be free." Ayo finished and nodded in acknowledgment. "Miss Y/l/n, I've had this very conversation with Sergeant Barnes before. The difference in your case is that you are not alone. You don't push people away like he does,  and you have become an Avenger and a team player in return. Nobody sees you as a threat, especially not a team of heroes who are trained to fight real threats."

"Thank you, Ayo. You're right, I'll keep it in mind."

As Ayo bid her goodbyes and grew out of view, Y/n's smile slowly disappeared. Ayo was right in some way, the Avengers had welcomed her like family. She was reminded by their batshit crazy game nights and shopping trips that she was nowhere near alone anymore. Not to mention the feeling of fighting as a team rather than as a solo assassin with everyone holding a mutual responsibility of backing each other up.

But a piece of her was missing.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

Bucky kept his gaze fixated on the window, his elbows rested on both of his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't mind being back here, in fact he would have surely been enjoying it if it weren't for the circumstances.

It didn't feel nearly the same this time.

He missed that little hut by the farm. The one that sat by the edge of the lake that stretched out towards the horizon right in front of the door, where he often found himself staring into every morning. It would always reflect the sunrise, casting a golden glow onto the canopy of the forest surrounding the hut. He missed it dearly.

There were those goats too. A little noisy, but far better company than anybody in New York.

It was a few miles out from the city, completely out of sight even from the window that displayed the entire capital. No ounce of super soldier serum could make it any easier to see it from where he was. T'Challa and Shuri had picked out the perfect place of solitude, it seemed.

His phone buzzed beside him on the comforter, pulling him from his daze.

Hey, pal. How you holding up?

Just fine, Steve. Thanks. I told you I just needed some time alone

I know. Just message me or Y/n if you need anything.

Y/n...

Yeah. I'll be fine, thanks again.

He was sure he had heard her knock about half an hour ago. It was at that point Bucky was still slightly disoriented from whatever he was sedated with. Or maybe it was the blood loss.

Or both.

But either way, he didn't want to open the door. He only let Steve come in so he'd believe Bucky's texts that he was okay.

It had only been earlier that day that Y/n entered his room with two tubs of ice cream and a movie to watch, saving the pitiful stares and mushy sentiments for Steve to do. No, she simply ignored it and did the best she could to lift his spirits by making light of the situation.

And it made Bucky's heart soar. 

It was odd, becoming so close to a woman like he had with Y/n in the last few months. Being just friends with a girl hadn't exactly been a common occurrence back in the day. All of the beautiful dames he'd talk to would instantly swoon from his charm, and would undoubtedly cave in to a date at Darrel's; his favorite nightclub. The band would always play that one swing song by Harry James and he'd have women wrapped around his finger from a single dance. The ladies' man title could only stick for so long, evidently.

He vividly remembered his last hookup during a pit stop on the last year of the USO tour. London, 1945. He couldn't remember her damn name. Just that he narrowly dodged an ambush grenade earlier that day that would've blown him to pieces if Dugan hadn't shoved them both out of the way. The whiskey had begun to burn on the tip of his tongue as the sensation of the alcohol engulfed him like a ravishing wave in a stormy sea. It hadn't been the first time nearly dying on the field, but it damn near was. Before he knew it, the contents of the bottle emptied in his hand, and him and the nurse from the third med tent had stumbled into a storage room behind the pub.

He remembered waking up the next morning with a nagging hangover and a voice of regret taunting his thoughts. He didn't know her name. And he was embarrassed for the most part, having thought that drunken one night stands were left behind in Brooklyn once drafted to fight a war.

The dating world had shifted since then. It was a giant mixing pot of weird dating apps and fake social media relationships. Not to mention the new culture of 'clubbing' that involved more provocative dancing than swing music. Bucky envied Steve for having someone like Natasha by his side when he first woke up in the 21st century.

There were times when the girl at the coffee shop across the street would bat her eyes at him, or that one time he could have sworn Sharon had hinted something at Tony's New Year's party.

He didn't hesitate to leave immediately.

But he would stand in front of the mirror, taking in his appearance and searching for what was once there over 70 years ago. Then his gaze would trail down to his left arm, the scar that lined its edge, the serum pulsing through his veins that left no room for mortality.

Was he even human anymore?

The glow of the sun had tucked itself behind the forest, with the darkness of the night swallowing up the sky. Bucky glanced towards the clock on the beside table. 9:36 it read. He didn't care for dinner, or to bid his two friends goodnight. He needed to shut his brain off, even for an hour or two.

He slumped back into the bed, shuffling to make himself comfortable on the plush mattress. Eventually he was able to doze off, the breeze through the open window lulling him to sleep despite the events from earlier still circling his mind.

By around 1:00am however, he grew uncomfortable. His cheeks tinted pink, knowing he wouldn't be able to get away with sleeping on the floor for the rest of his life. He sat up and shifted his left arm a bit.

No pain.

He let out a sigh of relief as he stood up, circling his arm and feeling it jolting to a longly awaited, comfortable position.

Bucky couldn't help but smirk in disbelief; Shuri was truly a master at her craft.

Wanting to get a breath of air outside of his room, he decided venture into the hall. He groggily pressed the button that allowed the door to silently slide open, trudging over to one of the small TV spaces on the floor that were a fair distance from the bedrooms. Making noise wouldn't necessarily be much of a problem considering Steve and Y/n were the only two sharing the floor with him.

He sat down on the larger couch and flipped through the TV channels. He stopped at some channel that was playing Casablanca.

"A movie I've finally seen," he joked to himself. 

It only took 20 minutes or so before his eyes grew heavy again. Of course, Bucky attempted to blink away the drowsiness and remained put on the couch. There was no way he was going to fall asleep out in the open like this. Besides, the movie was just getting to the best part.

♥︎♥︎♥︎

"Sir, she's unstable. She's resisting the machine."

"I don't care how many men you have to bring into this room, just hold her down."

She thrashed around on the metal table, some of the scientists were thrown backwards from her force, others struggled to place the metal prongs onto her temples.

Her screams tore from her throat as the electric pulses surged through each and every nerve in her body like an angry current, it's force threatening to rip through her own skin.

"Keep her sedated. I don't want to see any hint of emotion left in the eyes of an asset. I can't have our missions delayed."

Seconds turned to minutes, each pulse driving her to near madness as flashes of her life disappeared and reappeared until no memories were left to hold on to.

"When will it end?"

"When, when will it end?"

"Y/n!! Fuck. Y/n, it's not real!"

It had only been two hours later when Bucky had jolted awake on the couch at the sound of a scream, expecting it to be his own voice like every night.

His brows furrowed as the cries continued.

No, it can't be.

He had followed the distressful sound until he found himself in front of Y/n's door.

No, no, no.

In both confusion and panic, he neglected any normal decency to knock and bursted into her room. He felt his breath hitch at the sight of her face down on the floor beside her still made bed, small whimpers escaping her lips as she pleaded for someone to stop through loud sobs.

He gently shook her by the shoulders. "Y/n... God. It's alright, I'm here."

She suddenly gasped and flipped herself over, replacing Bucky where she had been laying and pinning him down firmly by both shoulders. Instinctively, he grabbed onto her wrists in an attempt to loosen her grip. "Shit."

"JUST LET ME GO!" She screamed through tears that fell onto Bucky's black t-shirt.

And his heart had been struck with sorrow.

She was looking directly at him, but she didn't see him. Bucky ravaged his mind for what to do in the moment. He'd heard of the dangers of abruptly waking up someone in the middle of a night terror.

Would he hurt her if he made any attempt to push her off?

"I'm here, Y/n. It's me, Bucky." He pleaded, brushing her wrist with his thumb. "You're just dreaming. None of that is real."

It dawned on him that Steve was usually the one in his place. He'd be beside Bucky's bedside, keeping his hand on his best friend's shoulder until the terrors subsided. Steve would nag at him the following day that he should consider seeing a specialist, or finding a way to deal with the PTSD on his own.

But what did Steve know?

And then it hit him. Had Y/n been going through this completely alone? He suddenly felt a wave of guilt consume him.

Bucky scanned her glazed eyes until he felt her grip ease from his shoulders, her expression softening.

"Wait... no." She blinked away the tears and grimaced when the vision in front of her vanished like a shadow. She was then met with a pair of icy blue eyes painted with concern.

"Bucky?" Her voice broke. She immediately drew back her hands and fell backwards. She looked back and forth between Bucky and her arms that had been holding him down a moment ago. Through her bedroom window, the moon casted a pale glow onto the melancholy expression that tainted his features. More tears spilled down her cheeks. "I...Fuck. What are you doing in here? This shouldn't have happened."

"Hey, hey, hey..." Bucky hushed, pulling her quaking body into his arms. "It's alright, I've got you."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, chanting repeatedly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

She buried her face into his chest, muffling her quiet sobs as he leaned against the side of her bed. She took in his warming scent that eased her senses, still in aftershock of the memory. Nobody had ever seen her like this before, so vulnerable, and she couldn't bear to look up for him notice her face flush crimson in embarrassment.

Bucky just held her, stroking his hand through her hair. He wished it had been him to have the nightmare instead that evening. He wished he could take all her nightmares and stash them away in his own memories. This was Y/n after all, the kind and charismatic Y/n. The one who always wore an illuminating smile that was contagious to those in the room. The one who would play all the silly games organized by Tony and Sam, or teach him about the culture of the decades he had missed during the years captive in HYDRA.

"I... I didn't mean to hurt you." Y/n eventually spoke after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "It always feels so real and..."

Bucky looked down and frowned. "I wish you told me about this sooner, Y/n. I really wish you had."

She dabbed at the lingering tears staining her cheeks with her T-shirt, each attempt of forgetting the events of her dream failing miserably.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bucky questioned with so much tenderness that Y/n could have stayed bundled in his embrace forever.

She shook her head quickly. "No. I don't want to think about it anymore."

Bucky could sense the exhaustion in her voice, and without a second thought, scooped her up in his arms and placed her in bed. He looked down at the crumpled blanket and pillow discarded on the floor and sighed knowingly.

"Thank you." She murmured, casting him a grateful smile and letting herself sink into the feathery bed. 

"You know where my room is if you need anything." Bucky turned to leave, stopping with his hand hovering the button to open the door. "Or you could get Steve, too. He's probably more reliable than I am."

"Don't go."

"Hm?" He turned around halfway to see Y/n's arm reaching out from the covers, her eyes still glassy from remaining tears and insomnia.

She hesitated slightly, her words suddenly failing her. It was a peculiar thing to ask of Bucky, but his presence radiated comfort in a sea of darkness. "Please... don't leave. I don't want to be alone." She heard herself say.

He couldn't tell if it was the fact that it was late and that she was deprived of sleep, or if he had been altogether imagining her words. He stood at the doorway, his jaw clenched as he glanced down at his arm. But it took one look into her pleading eyes that told him to cast aside his fears for her sake.

He slowly rounded the foot of the queen sized bed and shuffled under the covers so that he was a foot apart from her, his eyes never leaving her's. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm used to this."

He nodded, watching as sleep tugged on her eyelids until they fluttered shut. "Thank you... for being here for me." He heard her say quietly, before drifting back into slumber.

"Sleep tight, doll. I'm here."