#hopelessgarbage

You’re face to face with that choice again. You must decide which piece should be moved next, what move should you perform to succeed. It is hard but not impossible, regardless how many times your opponent has bested you so far.

“Are you stalling on purpose, Y/N?” he asks, his voice amused and for a very brief moment you want to murder him.

“Of course I’m now, my dear friend. I need to ponder my options, pick the wisest move.”

“You realize it’s a lost game for you? There’s nothing you can do to win.”

“You’re supposed to motivate me, I’m still learning,” you pout childishly, gaining a chuckle from Charles. He proposed to teach you how to play chess a month ago but you still find it difficult, almost too complicated to learn. There are so many moves, so many rules but for you, there’s no mountain high enough to not climb it so you do your best to get the hang of that game.

It also means you’re spending more time with your best friend, which is always a profit. Given your busy schedule with classes, you hardly have time to yourself, not to mention any social interactions. The fact that you’re teaching in Charles’ school doesn’t matter, really. He’s been occupied almost all the time, too.

“Well, I do think that so far you’re doing very well. You just need to be more patient with yourself.”

“I’m not very happy when I don’t see results instantly, you know,” you sigh and rest your head on your folded arms, glaring at the board with mix of curiosity and disgust. Charles cackles again, seeing your expression.

“Time and patience, that’s all it takes. By the way, I need to tell you that I’m really proud of you. You’re one of my best teachers and children are very fond of you.”

“Because I let them punch their anger away.”

“You’re a combat teacher, it’s your job,” Charles gives you an affectionate smile and you feel your cheeks warm up. It wasn’t always like that. You weren’t nice and settled when Charles found you.

You were scared to death, unable to control your powers, mad at everyone for turning you down all the time. Your skin has a silver gleam as if someone bathe you in a glitter; also, you’re a telepath – not as strong as Charles, but still strong enough to freak someone out, especially when you couldn’t keep your powers at bay.

But Charles took you in. Gave you a home, showed you how to use and control your gift and asked you to stay as a teacher, giving you a sense of purpose.

It was all you needed. Well, until a muscular guy with a funny hair and beard showed up on a motorbike and you felt a longing you never thought you’d experienced.

“Earth to Y/N, are you there?” Charles’ mirthful voice reaches your ears and you wrinkle your nose as you look at him.

“Nope. I kinda wanna be in my room already.”

“I’m not keeping you tied up here, you can go whenever you want to.”

“Okay then,” you stand up, glancing one last time on the chess board. “I’m going to beat you next time.”

“I hope so, Y/N. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, Charlie,” you say fondly as you lean in and kiss the top of his bald head, making Charles growl with mock frustration. You wave a hand at him as you walk out of the library, almost bumping onto a solid figure.

“Watch where you’re going, lady.”

“Did I step on your feet? Did it hurt, Logan?” you tease, smirking when Logan gives you an unamused look, one of his brows quirked up. The ‘I openly hate you so I won’t have to admit that I like you’ game between the two of you lasts since day one but both of you are too stubborn (and afraid) to confess your affection. It starts to annoy you but you won’t be the one that breaks first.

“You’re done, Y/N?”

“Sure am,” you state, folding your arms and brushing past him, ignoring the sparkles that arose on your skin when you touched his arm by accident.

Logan only hums in response, his eyes involuntarily following you as you rush through corridor and up the stairs. He just can’t help it – wherever you are, whatever you’re doing he just watches you, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Good Lord, I wish you could see yourself right now.”

“The hell you’re talking about?” Logan barks as he steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He comes to a cabinet, taking two glasses and a bottle of whiskey and placing them on a table.

Charles nears it on his wheelchair, ignoring the liquor when Logan places the glass in front of him.

“Did you lose your balls, Logan? Did they fall off?”

“No! My balls are fine, wanna see ‘em?” Logan says and takes a sip of the drink. Charles grimaces.

“Then why, for heaven’s sake, you still haven’t made a move? I mean, it’s so obvious you like Y/N, I don’t even need to read your thoughts. It’s all written on your face.”

“I don’t like her, Charles. You’ve been hallucinating. Should I call Hank?”

“Logan, deny as much as you want to. I’m not going to stop bugging you.”

“Oh, have mercy, Charles. Why can’t you just leave it?”

“Because it’s been going for too long. I never thought you’re such a chicken!”

“I’m not!” Logan exclaims, his eyes growing wide at the offense. Charles only smirks, the all-knowing look in his eyes.

“Then why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

“Charles, there’s nothing to tell. Yeah, I like looking at her, but, hell, I wouldn’t be stupid if I didn’t. Y/N’s a rocket, everyone will tell you that! What’s wrong with liking to watch how she deals with those little shits? Pupils- I know, don’t look at me like that, Professor. And yes, I sometimes think of her, but that’s only because she drives me crazy with that death glares she sends my way. I also like pissing her off ‘cause her little angry face it’s the best thing I’ve seen my entire life.”

“Do you hear yourself, Logan?” Charles asks, tilting his head slightly. His expression is soft, warm and Logan presses his lips into a thin line.

“I’m not saying a damn word. And you better keep your mouth shut, too.”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Charles rolls his eyes and reaches for the drink. He may need it, the conversation going in a way too hard to bear while sober.

_____

The next evening finds you in a kitchen, singing your favorite song quietly as you prepare yourself a late supper. There were few children who asked for an advice and you gladly talked to them for as long as they needed, even if it cost you a meal. It was worth it.

A small smile tugs your lips upward as you recall a very short but very vivid image of Logan, spotted on his way from one of the classes. He was wearing tight dark jeans and he unbuttoned his shirt, exposing khaki tank top. You almost stumbled but managed to compose yourself, sending with an unimpressed look and a teasing smirk. He furrowed his brows, which only fueled your desire for him more.

Damn, why he has to be so appealing yet so ignorant? And his arrogant manner, you’re fed up by those remarks and teases. You can also swear that his eyes never leave you when both of you are in the same room, but that may be your imagination.

“You’re not alone here, you know,” a low, deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you heave out a sigh.

“I’m almost done.”

“Great, I need to eat something,” Logan muses, opening fridge’s door and taking out various products as well as a bottle of beer.

“I thought you only need alcohol to keep you goin’,” you say, teasingly as you put your supper on a plate and turn around to sit by the table.

“I don’t get you, Y/N. You’re only mean to me, everyone else gets that sweet treating. What have I ever done to you?” he snaps, but you remain stoic, chewing on your supper as he props his palms flat on the table, staring at you with confused eyes. You swallow the bite and lower the fork.

“It’s not what you did, it’s what you didn’t, Logan.”

“Oh, fuck, you spent too much time with Charles, don’t talk to me in riddles,” he whines, hanging his head low and you let out an airily laughter at the sight.

“That’s funny to you, babydoll? I’m in misery and you’re laughing. Fuckin’ great.”

“Call me ‘babydoll’ again and I might tell you what I meant,” you jest, not really expecting him to oblige. He might not have even noticed the nickname in the first place, it might’ve simply slipped unintentionally.

However, Logan lifts his head and locks his eyes with yours, making you shiver slightly. You gulp.

“Y/N, babydoll, tell me what you meant. I really fucking need to know it.”

“Ready your bike, let’s go stargazing.”

Your proposition catches him off guard as Logan freezes, his eyes growing wide. You can’t really read his expression but you can make out hopefulness, disbelief and happiness there and you grin brightly at him.

“Want me to repeat it?”

“No, I got it. You wanted me to ask you out?”

“Yeah. But it was taking you took long so I figured I’d do it myself.”

“Dammit, Y/N, you have a weird ass way to show people you like them.”

“Nah, it’s only with you. You can feel special, Logan.”

Your eyes grow wide as you stare at your brother, trying to fully understand what he’s just said. A sickening feeling takes residence in your guts, filling you with nauseous dread.

“Stevie, please, tell me it’s just a joke.”

“No, Y/N, I’ve got enlisted. Legally.”

“B-but… how?”

“A doctor, who was examining me, told me that they have a special program and that I can participate, if I want to. I do want to. I’ll join the army, help the country-“

“No, Steve, no!” you whine, cupping your face as you lower your head, squeezing your eyes shut. It can’t be real, it can’t be happening. What kind of insane doctor looked at Steve and deemed him healthy to any kind of activities? Your brother is too small, suffers from asthma and heart problems, how could anyone agree on him joining the army?

“It’s too much, I can’t…”

“Y/N, I’m gonna be fine. Maybe they’ll fix me,” he shrugs, smiling weakly as if it’s not a possibly experimental treatment he’s signed up for. Steve looks too calm, too certain of this whole thing and you start to regret not cuffing him to a radiator as you said when he first mentioned enlisting.

“You don’t need fixing, Steve. You’re not flawed. I’ve already lost Bucky to the war, I can’t willingly let you go. Who knows if you ever come back to me?”

“Silly, of course I’ll be back. As will Bucky.”

“Both of you treat it like an ordinary camp. It’s war, Steve, kill or get killed.”

“You think I don’t know that?” he asks rhetorically, his tone turning serious and you lift your gaze to meet his big blue eyes. He’s made up his mind, you know you can’t reason with him. Nothing you can say will change his decision, and it breaks your heart.

“And Y/N, if you said a word, Bucky wouldn’t go. If you only told him…”

“No, don’t start with it again. I didn’t because it wouldn’t change a damn thing. He’d go and you’re well aware of it. I don’t need what-ifs and you-should-haves. Bucky’s gone and I… I need to deal with it somehow.”

Steve rises from his seat and comes to your side, putting his skinny arms around you and hugging you tightly. You never actually spoke about what you feel for Bucky but Steve is way too observant to not notice it. He didn’t prod, didn’t bug you to tell James, and you’re grateful for that.

It’s always been the three of you, since your childhood. You, Steve and Bucky. Together or not at all. As you grew up, however, your feelings for Bucky changed, became deeper but since Bucky didn’t show any sign of feeling something more, you remained silent about your affection. Steve was positive Bucky reciprocates your feelings but you were too scared of losing him to utter a word.

And now, when the war came, you lost him anyway. How cruel and ironic.

You bite on your lower lip to will away a sob as you realize that soon, you’ll be on your own. Alone, in a flat shared with Steve, waiting for your boys to come home, hoping that they’ll return in one piece. Foolishly, during last evening with Bucky, you promised yourself that you’ll confess once the war is over and he’s back but now, it all seems impossible.

Inevitably, the fate will gift you with a broken heart, regardless the outcome. Because you are sure that miracles don’t happen and either one of them, or – worse – both will get hurt and won’t return to you.

Unless…

“I’m your big sister, Steve, you’re gonna draw me in.”

“W-what?!”

“I’m coming with you. Or you’re not coming at all. End of the discussion. I promised mom to keep an eye on you and I intend to hold on to that promise no matter what. I’m coming with you.”

______

Steve knew better than to argue with you. You’d win, as per usual. You had more common sense than him, but equally lot of courage and so when Steve took you to doctor Abraham Erskine, the medic only smiled and gave you papers. You quirked an eyebrow but assumed that Steve was already kind enough to tell the doctor about his ‘overprotective’ sister, and you signed the papers.

The doctor then examined you and explained what kind of program you’d just signed in. Project Rebirth, as it was called, was a secret experiment to create America’s Perfect Soldier, someone who would lead and inspire the troops to keep fighting for freedom. He wasn’t convinced that bringing a woman to this program was a good idea but when you jested that nothing fuels men more than a pretty lady, he admitted that you might be right.

The training was harder than you anticipated. You realized they’d push you to your limits, just as they did with Steve, but neither of you gave up or even complied. It was a necessary step, despite all of the catcalling and teasing you received. More than once, you proved yourself worthy more than the men, prompting a smile to appear on Peggy Carter’s face and an expression of approval and slight surprise on Colonel Phillips’s.

You were happy when the day of injecting the serum came. It meant that, only in few days, you’d be fighting for freedom, for your country. You’d lie if you said that those ideals didn’t flood your head when you were training, backed up by Steve’s proud words.

Yet, concern for your brother stayed glued to your heart, no matter how many times he succeeded, no matter how many time he bested those bigger and stronger than him. He was still your little brother, your Stevie and you would protect him with all your might, small or big.

‘Taller’ wasn’t the word you’d use to describe how you felt after stepping out of the reactor. Steve went first and you prayed to whatever deity was listening that he’d walked out really ‘fixed’. Peggy held your hand reassuringly as the procedure was performed on your brother, surely doing the same for him when your turn came.

Admittedly, you didn’t grow taller. Of course, you gained muscles but what changed the most was the feeling of undefeatable, unstoppable strength, a sort of energy pumping through your veins. It came with a modesty, too, a respect of what was given to you and the sense that it should be only used for good, never for bad.

And so, you were utterly crestfallen that, after doctor Erskine’s violent death, you were proposed, almost ordered, to perform for people, turning Steve into Captain America and you into Miss America, the country’s role model sibling. You were to be symbols of hope and strength, to promote and encourage participation in war.

It wasn’t what you were supposed to do and soon, Steve and you decided to run away and serve in the army, as you were meant to be. Fortunately, Peggy was on your side and supported you through your breakdowns. You didn’t know what you would do without her.

Scared to death after finding out about HYDRA, an organization of power-abusing and ill-driven monsters, you fought with all your might with it. Knowing that it must be destroyed by all means necessary, to save Americans and whole world, you did what you had to and never hesitated.

You jumped onto the plate alongside your brother, not questioning this decision. It had to be done.

You reached for his hand when he piloted the jet, holding it firmly as you directed into the water.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve muttered after connection with Peggy was lost and tears pricked at your eyes but you smiled regardless.

“Don’t be. I knew what I was signing for.”

Bucky’s grey-blue eyes was the last thing you saw before you hit the water.

_______

It gave you hope, to become a part of a team. Amongst the Avengers you found new friends, people who helped you with adjust to modern times and who gave you a sense of belonging, so much needed after you and Steve were awoken from the ice.

What you did not expect, what never even crossed your mind during dark times was that HYDRA was still growing, still alive, despite your efforts to take it down. It had its claws everywhere, even in something so safe and transparent as SHIELD.

Once again, Steve and you were fighting with it. Once again, you were trying to rid the world of its ideals, its drive to control every aspect of people’s lives and ignite fear. It had to be stopped so, with Steve, Natasha and newly met Sam, you are now running away from a chase, not even slightly prepared for what comes next.

A figure lands on the top of the car with a loud thud and before you can act, Sitwell is grabbed roughly and pulled out of the vehicle, a metal arm the only thing you managed to catch with your eyes. The steering wheel is ripped as well, giving you no choice but to abandon the car whatsoever. You grab your shield, Steve takes his and by some miracle, you jump off relatively unharmed, although scattered about the highway.

You land on lower level, on a car’s top and you groan when you roll underneath it, shouting at people to get as far away as they can run. A dull ache in your back briefly makes you unable to move but as Natasha darts in the distance, you jump on your feet, fishing out your gun. At least, you’re armed.

She manages to hit the metal armed assassin and then runs for her life, a hopeful look in her away as she passes you by.

“Get help, I’ll cover you!” you shout after her and dare a look over your shoulder to check on Steve. He’s unwounded, it seems, and so you position yourself, shooting at the men clad in black as they slide down on their lines, taking them down one by one. Steve stands next to you, using his shield to strike off their bullets as he slowly closes the distance between them.

And that’s when the Soldier makes an appearance.

Your brother hides behind a car and you do what you always do – you join him.

“Y/N, he’s too strong.”

“Bullshit. Okay, maybe. You go, Sam will cover you. I’ll be right behind you.”

Steve nods and doesn’t waste any second as he runs off. True to your prediction, Sam keeps the Soldier occupied for a moment and you use it to take off as well, creating as much distance as you can and crouch behind a car, immediately noticing Natasha’s phone.

“Clever,” you mumble as you realize it’s a recording and the Widow herself is stationed behind a car across the street.

The Soldier comes into the view again, preparing his gun. You watch him walking exactly when Nat wanted and when he rolls a bomb you know he caught the bait. Before you can even move, Natasha jumps and wraps her thighs around his neck, putting a line on his throat.

She’s not as successful as she wishes to be, however, because the Soldier sends her crashing against a car, giving her no time to recover. You do what comes up first in your head – you send your shield at his legs, making him lose his balance and Natasha uses that chance to flee, ushering remaining people to run for their lives, still she doesn’t run fast enough – a bullet reaches her, knocking her down.

With anger boiling in your blood, you decide to go against the Soldier. Hand in hand combat is a rather stupid idea but his gun isn’t prepared and when you reach him, you kick in it, disarming him. Then, you aim for his crotch but he backs away just in time, punching you in your stomach. You collapse onto the ground but, luckily, Steve is there on time – next punch collides with his shield and the sound resonates straight into your core.

Once you recover, you stand up and, working with Steve, you try to stop the Soldier. He seems to be undefeatable, even for the two of you fighting in sync, but somehow Steve manages to send the Soldier flipping over, losing his mask in the result.

Holding on your middle, where you believe you have a broken rib, you stumble to stand next to Steve as the assassin straightens up and turns around to face you.

Your mouth falls agape as a breath gets caught in your throat, your heart sinking and a cold shiver runs down your spine. You know him. You’d recognize him everywhere, even with long hair and that terrifying metal limb.

“Bucky?” Steve says out loud what your mind already knows, his voice thick and breathless.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the Soldier says and his words are enough to completely beat you up, better than any gun can. It pains, more than all those hits he directed at you, more than anything ever, even seeing him fall from that bloody train.

You can’t quite make up anything after that moment. Somewhere from behind you Natasha shots at the Soldier – at Bucky – after Sam knocks him down. The assassin flees and then you’re taken by the Strike Unit, by HYDRA and you don’t know how but you’re driving in the van, most likely to a place you’ll be killed off.

You hear what Sam and Steve are talking about but you can’t really understand it. How is it possible? How did this happen? Why did they turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier?

“Y/N?”

“Y/N, please, say something.”

“He doesn’t know me.”

“He doesn’t know me either, Y/N,” Steve mutters, his voice filled with sadness and you bit harshly to not sob out loud.

“It’s okay, you can cry,” Sam sooths although you’re sure he doesn’t really get why Steve and you are so shaken. He didn’t know Bucky before the war. He didn’t know the caring, selfless man who often spent sleepless night with you when Steve was sick and you were afraid that it was it, that he would not wake up. He didn’t know the witty, funny guy who often said jokes just to make you laugh.

He saw only the HYDRA’s weapon, not the man you loved underneath it.

Steve answer the unasked question before you can open your mouth to stop him.

“Y/N and Bucky-“

“There was no me and Bucky, Steve.”

“I know, but you-“

“I still do.”

“Y/N-“

“No, Steve. Just don’t say it.”

_____

“I knew them. The two on the bridge.”

“You’ve met them earlier this week on another assignment.”

“But I knew her. I knew him. She’s…”

“Prep him.”

_____

After Maria rescued you and brought to Nick, you couldn’t do much. You were indifferent, deep in your thoughts. You only told you’d do anything Steve would agree on and so they gave you a part in taking down the Hellicarriers as a backup on the ground, in case Sam or Steve were unable to reach the panels.

You were glad that you didn’t have to face Bucky once again. The first encounter with him already did a damage and you’re not sure if you’ll ever recover from it. It’s way too much for you handle at the moment.    

It was even more heartbreaking when you got to Steve and he mumbled that it was Bucky who pulled him from the river. That he cracked the code, that Bucky remembered. You couldn’t believe it and you’re still not convinced if you should.

Despite your doubts, you are now standing by your brother’s side, looking at the file Natasha gave him. Everything’s there, all the answers and your heart starts racing at the mere thought that you’ll find out what happened to your Bucky.

“I said your name and he hesitated.”

“Steve, don’t torture me. I don’t wanna know about this.”

“Y/N, stop. I don’t want to hurt you but I think… I think you’re the one who can bring him back.”

“You’re going after him, aren’t you?” Sam asks as he approaches the two of you and you nod at him. He smiles, obviously already knowing the answer.

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve adds gently, giving Sam an opportunity to give up the case but the latter only smiles wider.

“I know. When do we start?”

“Y/N? You’re in?”

“Are you serious? Of course I am.”

“Thought so.”

“How can you ask? You know the line, Steve,” you squeeze a smirk, your eyes however remain sad and desperate.

Steve wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, kissing your temple.