#annadierwrites

He didn’t say anything to you now. He simply stepped back to call your father, talking in hushed muffled tones, informing him of your safety and that the situation had been dealt with. You focused on the thugs, taking careful steps around them, just out of reach if one miraculously woke up.

The call was made. More men arrived and took the thugs away. “Are they dead?” You asked him.

There were people around. You honestly were not expecting a response, that was not his normal. You had no idea why you had asked him in the first place, but you were in shock, you would later argue with yourself. And yet... he replied. “No. Your father will want to question them.” He said it so bitterly, as if he had wanted to kill them. That scared you.

Logically, you knew that a bodyguard’s job is to protect you. That involves killing people. He had literally killed to protect you the first time you had ever met him. And yet. This time, his desire to kill felt less like a professional obligation. He drove you back home, taking someone’s car. You were not sure whose but it had to have belonged to your father’s men. The drive was silent, the only sound that registered was when the hum of the engine cut abruptly as he got out to open your door. He never spoke unless spoken to, and you had nothing to say. This was your own fault. You had sneaked out without anyone. You knew it could have been dangerous – and oh Lord, how it was! – everything about this was on you.

“I’m sorry.”

Two words broke the silence as you walked to your room. You did not say anything. So, he must have. But why would he be apologising? You stared at him in confusion. This time, he didn’t stand outside the door, like a dutiful statue. He walked right in with you, closed the door and sat beside you.

“I should have been there. That was my job.” He sounded pained and mournful. It hurt you to think that this was probably the most human you had seen him look in two years. Whoever he truly was, It was beginning to peak through. "I'm sorry."

“No, no.” You denied. “I ran outside. I knew what I was doing.” No you did not! You argued with yourself. If you knew what you were doing, you would not have needed to be saved by him!

“I should have noticed sooner. I should have been there to protect you!” His voice raised, almost in panic. A thought filled your mind: what would have happened if he had not arrived when he did?

Tears welled up in your eyes. How could you have been so foolish? “We’re they going to kill me?” You asked him in a voice that could barely constitute as a whisper. Your lip trembled. He pulled you close. He did not answer your question. He did not know what they had planned for you, but he wished he could have killed them all the same.

He let you lie across his lap, and cry silently to let the fear out. He shushed you when you blamed yourself, he run his hands through your hair until you calmed down. Not for the first time, you we’re grateful he was there.

He watched you slowly ease into drowsiness as the adrenaline and fear faded away. He moved to stand up and lay you back in your bed but from where you were sitting now that he gently pushed you off of him, you grabbed onto his hand before he became out of reach.

“Stay?” You asked in a small voice. “I don’t want to be alone. Please?” He looked at the door with a concerned look. “I’ll say I needed you here to feel safe. I do, really. Please? Just…just tonight?”

“Okay.” He nodded without hesitancy. And really how could he deny that? Keeping you safe was his job, that was his mission.

You climbed under the covers and insisted he join you There was some hesitancy now. He insisted sitting on a chair next to you, What would happen if your father came in? Fear climbed back up your throat. Father. Thugs. You could have died? What if you had died, and this was a dream, a last minute of peace before the great beyond? He did not need to hear your thoughts to read you like an open book. When tears began to well, he gave in.

His body was warm. There was space on your large bed, but you found yourself drawn towards him. It was nice, but every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was the brutality of tonight. “Can you hold me?” You weren’t sure if he heard you, or if you had even really said it out loud but his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest. It was almost like he needed the reassurance of your life. It was in this warmth that you finally found enough comfort to fall asleep. When you woke up the next morning, he was standing dutifully outside the door with his hands clasped behind his back. You barely missed the slight smile that peaked as you walked passed him before he drew his mask back up.

You would never know this, but that night, the Soldier had never slept. He forced himself awake incase a new threat came into the room while you were vulnerable - either enemies or your father.

Part 4

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“Who are Hydra?” You had asked him. His answer was vague. ‘People who would help you win the war.’ His eyes said to not ask any more questions. It was good enough for your teenage mind.

For the most part, your rich nuclear family was blissfully unaware of the real dangers war brought on. You were nineteen when that reality shattered. Just out of highschool, about to start your university education. Global politics of course, who else would take over for your father. You were out with friends, dragged into a shopping trip albeit not very reluctantly when two men shot at you. Americans, you were later told. The city square was flooded with panic as people scrambled for cover under and beside anything. In truth no one knew who the real target was because before they could try anything more, they were dead. You saw them up on the top of a building before they stumbled forward. A black-haired man with a mask concealing his face stood behind them. You could barely see anything more, but you could see his hand stretched out holding a gun. The next thing you knew, guards were pulling you and your friends into black cars and towards safety.

The incident had left you shaken, and you were not the only one. You barely registered anything until you were brought to your bed. The world was muted to your ears. Your knees were tucked in under your chin as your stare burned a hole into one specific spot on your floor. You could have died! Lying in a body bag instead of on your bed. Your friends could have died! All because of who your father was. All because of some pathetic war between two countries to show who was stronger. A dick measuring contest for nations. For the first time in your life, you hated your status, and you hated your family name. Your mother was distraught. Her terrified chanting of your name barely registered to you. Your friends were probably in similar situations at their respective homes too. Calls were made. Your mother was yelling at people, namely your father, and a few poor servants who crossed her path. Your father spoke rapidly into a phone. He was yelling at someone too. Things calmed down once he got whatever he wanted. The next day a man was standing outside your door as your father slowly walked through.

“Y/N,” He said soothingly. “I want you to meet someone. He will be your guard from now on. Nothing like yesterday will happen again. I won’t let it.” Firmly spoken, his eyes narrowed at his last words before he placed a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked at the man. He looked familiar. His dark hair fell down to his chin, his blue eyes were like ice, cold and detached. He looked young in years, perhaps a little older than yourself, but his faces the look of someone who had endured things you could only imagine. He stood rigidly at his post like a soldier in the army. A veteran perhaps? But who would be a veteran so young? Still, you recognised him as the man who had killed your would-be assassins the day before.

“You will guard her with your life, Soldat. She is not to leave your sight.” Your father commanded.

“Da.” The soldier responded dutifully. He nodded at you before your father walked out and shut the door. He followed outside and you supposed he would stand outside of your room from now on. The thought comforted your scared heart.

From then on, the Soldier was with you almost anywhere. Even in the large mansion of a home you lived in. In the dining hall beside the door, outside your bedroom, behind you whenever you went outside… he was everywhere. You would not have minded if he was not so stoic. He never talked to you, it was unnerving at best, despite the many times you tried bringing up conversation.

“What is your name?” Silence.

“Do you want food?” No. “When do you eat?” Silence.

Whenever you suggested going anywhere, he quietly and dutifully followed, refusing to put in any input.

You were in the family study, reading up on random topics to kill time. It was just you and him in the room. As per your request, he guarded the inside of the door instead of standing in the hallway outside like usual.

“Are you a robot?” You blurted randomly into the silence of the room. For the first time, you saw his expressionless mask break. He stared at you with puzzlement and confusion. For the first time, his cold blue eyes held a flicker of warmth in them.

“I just never see you eat, and you just go along with everything I say, and you never talk. And I think one of your hands in metal. It…made sense in my head.”

After a month of nothing but silence and statue-like behaviour, you watched a smirk quirk through his face.

“No. I’m not a robot.” He replied. It was the most words you had heard leave his mouth at any one time.

You nodded awkwardly in your seat, a little smile creeping despite that. “Okay then. Good to know.” Somehow, you felt like that just amused him even more.

“Ridicol” He said under his breath.

Part 2

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“Hey kiddo, do you know where… Are you alright?” Tony walked into the room watching what could only be described as abuse to the equipment. “What happened?”

You blinked away the burning tears. “Bucky…ass…dirty cheating…can’t trust anybody.” Tony made out from your grumbles as you punched harder with your words.

“What did Frost Bite do this time.” He asked. “And how long have you been here. Jesus! Are your hands bleeding?” Seeing you possibly hurt turned Tony into the fatherly role he had adopted since you joined the team. You were the youngest and he seemed to think of you as the teenage mouthy daughter he never had, even if you were no longer a teenager.

You stopped your assault to look down at your knuckles. They were stained dark red and now that you thought about it, were starting to sting. “I don’t know.” You mumbled. “I think I started around…four?”

“That’s three hours! What happened?” Tony pulled you to a seat and sat down, wrapping an arm protectively around you. Feeling the comfort and safety he provided, you burst into uncontrollable tears, retelling everything that you had seen in choked sobs.

“I don’t – I don’t understand why? I thought we were okay. We were enough. Why wasn’t I enough, Tony? Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

You could feel Tony growing angrier with every word, clenching his fists and becoming rigid.

“Why didn’t he say something? Why did he have to go to her? What did I do? What did I do for him to do this?” Question after question poured from your mouth. Why? Why, why, why? Why did this happen to you? Why did you deserve this? Why did you trust him?

Tony sat with you, soothing responses filling your ears as he rubbed your back, telling you that none of this was his fault. But you could not conceive why Bucky, who up until then, you thought was perfect, would cheat on you. It had to have been something about you then, right?

“I can throw him out, just say the word and he’s gone!” Tony promised. You chuckled at the expected overreaction.

‘No, I – I don’t want him gone, that would be mean to Steve. Steve needs him. I just…Can I be alone for a little bit? I promise, no more injuries.’ Tony nodded.

“I think Wanda’s making something for dinner soon, I can have it brought up to you.” Tony instinctively knew that that was what you wanted.

“Thanks,” you told him.

“But first, we’re taking you to Bruce and getting those hands of yours checked out. Come on, up!” He jumped up and pulled you with him. You obediently followed as he made his way to Bruce’s lab.

…The training room where you broke down.

Part 3

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It hurt so much when you thought about it. From when it happened to when you thought about it, torturing your mind with the painful thoughts. The month had been long and strenuous but for the last few days, you had noticed a slight improvement. Your road to recovery was being paved. You found yourself finally getting up and out of bed at a time before midday. Your broke down less. The crying had minimalised from emotive, shouting frustrated cry-fests to a quiet sob and eventually a silent tear. it would happen whenever you remembered Bucky and of course that meant everything reminded you of him and the time you had shared. Reminiscent and longing would cause a teary smile to appear on your lip before the betrayal would settle in. The happiness from your memories turned to depression for what you had lost. What had been taken from you. The day still haunted you horribly.

You ran as fast as you could away from the offending sight. Your feet carried you to the training room, desperate to get away from the image of her and Bucky curled on the couch whispering sweet nothings to each other.

“I love you Draga.” He had told her and you were left standing stock still for a moment, still in the elevator observing them. They were too busy kissing to notice a third party. You had known it was him before seeing his face for two reasons; the first was that you knew that back too well. Every inch of him was memorized in your mind. His voice; you were all too familiar with the husky voice that carried a tone of tender love and care. You knew Bucky – or at least you had thought you did. A flash of fiery red hair gave away who the partner was. You choked back a sob and closed the door, randomly pressing a button, needing to get away. That’s how you ended up in the training room, punching the grey bag until your knuckles bled. Because it would be either the bag or his face.

Part 2

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You stared at it all in wonder. How had you gotten to this? Sure, you both had short fuses, but it was never like this at the start. You recalled how he would envelope you in his arms and his warmth when you were scared or sad. In turn, you would stay with him through his nightmares and offer soothing words of comfort. You never saw him as a monster, even now. But sometimes things would be said in the heat of the moment when you were not thinking. Things that you would never mean and wish you could take back. But you can’t.

That was not to say that Bucky did not say a few hurtful things on his part. But you knew you knew that you were definitely sorry. If only he was here for you to apologize to. Instead, Bucky had pushed passed you and slammed the door shut without another word when things became too much for him to deal with.

You sat in that same spot the entire night, waiting to see if he would come back. Once the sky faded from dark to light, your guilt morphed into frustration and anger at his disregard for you. Did he he think that he could just up and leave when it was getting difficult? Did he think it was that easy?

You looked up and rose to your feet when the silence was broken by the turning doorknob of the front door. Bucky entered slowly, tired and still harbouring the negativity from your fight.

“Where were you?” You questioned him, perhaps a little too forcefully than you should have.

“Steve.” He replied simply in a gruff voice, not wanting to deal with the aftermath.

“Oh, Steve? Funny, because Steve never rang to let me know if you were okay.”

“Didn’t want him to.” Bucky shrugged nonchalantly.

“You didn’t want him to? Are you serious right now? What if something had happened to you? How would I know?”

“What’s it matter to you? I’m just HYDRA’s monster, remember?” Bucky snapped at you. “Besides, I never asked you to wait up for me.”

“I did not mean that and you know it! And if we’re playing that game, then I guess I’m just a heartless women who only cares about herself, right? After all, why else would I still be with you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky narrowed his eyebrows.

“I don’t know, Bucky! I don’t know anything about us because this whole thing is a train wreck! You didn’t ask me to wait up for you? Well, guess what, I did, because I thought you’d have the courtesy to at least say where you were going, or at least goodbye.“ 

“What do you want from me, [Y/N]? I won’t say I’m sorry, because I’m not. I needed a break from all this!” Bucky argued.

You stood there with your mouth agape. “You - you ass ! You think you needed a break? I’m the one who has to put up with your shit! Your nightmares in the middle of the goddamn night, and the million times when you suddenly become the Winter Soldier. If anyone needs a break, its me! But did I ever hold that against you?” At some point you registed a remote flying in his direction that he immediately dodged. “Did I ever run for the hills? No because I do actually love! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here right now, pissed off because my boyfriend is too much of a jerk to care!” Your glare could have burned holes through the wall behind him. You stood your ground fiercely. You were tired of everything. Every argument the two if you had, every time he reactd by avoidance.

“Why do you date me then? Huh?” You questioned him. A part of you really wanted to know why he bithered to stick around if this relationship was so hard for him. “Do you even need me? Or did you only want me because you couldn’t have me? And now that you do, is it just not good enough?”

Something flickered in his eyes. You didn’t know what it was, but you watched it cause the cold stare in his face melt away. A bitter tension-filledsilence blanketed over you as Bucky absorbed your words. Throughout this time, not at any moment, despite the many foghts, did either of you ever question the status of your relationship. Never did Bucky hear you question why you were together. Why was he with you? After hearing your yelling rant. Arguing how much you put up of him and his baggage, he knew. He knew it certainly wasn’t easy for you. Especially when, despite everything, when he needed a moment to let out his frustrations at his life or the world, you were always there with an ear and a shoulder to cry on.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky croaked out after a moment. You stared at him in shock. You expected him to yell back, say the many faults in you that he put up with. Anything but apologize. When you did not reply with anything, Bucky continued, “You are caring and understanding and when you’re not throwing things at me, you’re with me when I need you the most. Do I need you? God Doll, you can’t comprehend how much I need you. I’m so sorry. Why am I still with you? Because no one, no one compares to you. I love you so much that it hurts me how destructive we are.”

He hesitantly stepped closer to you and you pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry too.” You mumbled, trying to wrap your head at everything being said now. “How did we even get like this?”