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Whumptober 2020 - Let’s Hang Out Sometime - Waking up Restrained
Warning! Major character death!
Bucky wakes up handcuffed to a bed with no memory of how he got there or why.
Please be nice, this is my first time writing an angst fanfic in years.
Bucky woke up as he normally did, slowly, blinking at the light around him. He was in a sort of weird position, but he woke up in plenty of weird positions. It wasn’t until he went to stretch that he realized something was wrong.
His wrist stopped at a certain point. He pulled, only to have metal dig into his wrist. He frowned, tugging a little harder, then harder, only to find that the handcuffs didn’t break. That was when he began to panic. He reached up his free hand, pulling harder and trying desperately to break out of the restraints, all to no avail.
“James.”
The voice was familiar and helped cut through the fog of panic a little. He looked over to the corner where Natasha stood, scrambling to sit up. It left his arm at an awkward angle, but the comfort of his appendages was the least of his concerns right then.
“Nat? What happened?”
“You killed Steve.”
“I… I what?”
“You woke up, grabbed a knife, and...” Natasha paused. “Steve is dead.”
Bucky felt the wave of memories wash over him all at once. It was hazy, but he could vaguely recall the nightmare that started it.
It had been something about his brainwashing. He’d woken up in pain and with his mind covered in a strange fog. He had no idea where he was or who he was. He’d seen the man in bed with him and recognized him only as a target.
In lightning fast motions, he’d grabbed the knife on the nightstand, moved so he was on top of the man, and slashed.
Steve’s eyes had opened. He’d choked out something that sounded like it could’ve been Bucky’s name.
The door had burst open then. There was the faint sound of sirens, and a man’s voice announced over the speakers that they “were going into level three lockdown”. Steve was gripping his wrist, struggling to get words out. He barely managed to make out, “Not your fault” and “Bucky”.
Whoever entered the room immediately wrapped an arm around his neck from behind, and he started trying to pry their arm away with no success. Soon everything started to go black. But that was okay. His mission was completed. After a minute or two without breath, he collapsed onto the bed.
Bucky’s chest was heaving. He looked down at himself, noticing for the first time that he was covered in blood. The bed wasn’t the one he shared with Steve. They’d moved him to a room that looked hospitable enough but was probably as high security as it came. He was still in his pyjamas.
“I killed Steve,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet.
“You did.” Natasha’s voice was cold. He couldn’t blame her.
The realization hit him all at once, and suddenly, his eyes were filled with tears, and he was choking back sobs. He’d killed Steve. The man he loved. The man who’d cared for him and taken him back into his life and made him feel human again. He was dead and it was his fault.
A hand of pain gripped Bucky’s heart, and he grabbed at the sheets with his free hand. Steve was dead. Steve was dead. Steve was dead and it was his fault.
“Not your fault.” Those had been Steve’s last words. But Steve wouldn’t blame Bucky for anything, not even his own death.
A choked sob escaped him, and he brought his knees up to his chest. He’d killed Steve Rogers.
“They’ll be transferring you to the Raft soon enough.” Natasha walked closer, studying the broken man that sat before her. When he didn’t respond, she sighed, glancing at the camera in the corner before looking back to him. “What happened, James?”
“It was just a nightmare. A stupid nightmare,” he said, his voice coming out choked and thick. “I kept this knife on the nightstand, it was stupid but it made me feel safe…”
“We’re going to get you a good layw-”
“No.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“No. I did this. Whatever they do to me I deserve.”
“And if they try to give you the death penalty?”
Bucky considered the possibility. It was hard to care right then. He just rested his forehead on his knees, wrapping his free arm around his knees. “So what?”
A voice came over the speakers in the room. “Ms. Romanoff, your time is up.”
“Good luck, James.” She gave him one last long look before heading to the door. It opened for her, then promptly closed behind her, leaving Bucky alone in the empty room.
And for the first time in a long time, he was truly alone.
