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Empty.
Incredibly, insufferably, empty .
That’s how Bucky feels. Ever since he got out of hydra, trying to find his identity, ever since he lost steve, due to old age. Bucky. Feels. Empty.
He could go to Sam, he should . But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he’s ashamed. He doesn’t because Sam has bigger issues, bigger things to take care of than just him. Just little ol’ Bucky. A lost soul, a pity case, almost a stray cat in need of a shelter.
Bucky knows, of course, that Sam is his friend. In a way, at least, thanks to their common friendship with Steve. And here it is, right ? Steve. He was always here, always showing him where to go. In the end, it’s always Steve. He joined the howling commando, because of Steve. He left hydra, because of Steve. He has a friend, because of Steve.
But Steve isn’t here anymore. So he’s empty.
He’s seeing a therapist. He has to, actually. He doesn’t know, isn't really sure that it helps. He doesn't want to admit that it does. He’s in that stage, where he doesn’t want to heal, to forget. The nightmares always flaring up and stabbing old wounds he thought could not be reopened. But here he is, dreaming of a life that was supposed to be his and being haunted by the demon he was made to be.
Bucky is trying to make amends, the therapist said it would help. He has three rules, if he respects them and completes his notebook…Supposedly, he should be better, feel better, les empty.
And that’s how he ended up here, in this big, quiet house. Bucky is uncomfortable, this place is too big and too quiet. He’s used to his small, walls-thinner-than-paper, apartment.
However, Bucky is here. Sat at the table in this too big (too empty), living room. He’s waiting, in the dark, for the owner of this place. Bucky knows them, in a way, he knows they won't be happy to see him.
The sound of a car driving in, then the keys in unlocking the door minutes after, indicate him that they're here.
They're no hydra agent, no corrupted government person nor a criminal or former “owner” of his. They're a civilian. A normal person, a kind person.
They enter the living room and turn the light on. Bucky sees them freeze at the sight of him. He sees them look at him, analyze him and the surroundings.
“You…”
Maybe they wanted to say more, so much more, but they said nothing.
“Sit down.”
Rough, authoritative, mean. Bucky could have used a better tone in this situation, but he’s too tensed and uncomfortable to e empathetic right now.
They sit, quietly, looking- no,watching him, as if he was a bomb about to explode at the slightest wrong move. They stare, right through his soul.
“What are you doing here ?”
No traces of kindness, empathy or even consideration for the person in front of them. Bucky understands. He would do the same.
“...”
He tries to do it. He repeats it in his head. Rule number one: Nothing illegal…He may have missed this one, he kind of entered this house uninvited…Rule number two: don't hurt anyone. So far, so good. Bucky is proud of that, yet again he has no reason to hurt anyone. There’s no one. Rule number three…Bucky opens his mouth and closes it again.
They don’t interrupt, don’t talk and don't even help him. Why would they ? They look, however, like they’re about to call the police on him. Which isn’t good.
“I am…”
They flinch, slightly, at the sound of his voice. Quiet, almost shy. Very different from his previous order to them.
“...No longer the winter soldier.”
They look surprised to hear him talk, with this voice especially. They must have a specific vision of him. A very negative one.
“I am James Bucky Barnes.”
He has more confidence when saying this, now sure that he is James Bucky Barnes. Though he doesn’t sound 100% convinced.
“And you are a part of my efforts to make amends.”
Bucky’s face, that was tensed throughout all his little speech, suddenly aboard a forced smile. Said smile stayed for a matter of second before his face becomes tensed again.
The person in front of him stays silent, Bucky is reminded of the too quiet environment.
“Are you serious ?”
Anger. Pure, dark, disgusting, anger. That’s how they sounded to him. If he could, Bucky would bury himself underground. Instead, he just curls up a bit on himself.
“You came to my house , you invaded my space , to tell me this bullshit ?!”
Bucky wants to go back to his too small apartment. At least there, nobody talks to him.
“Do you even understand how much I loathe you ?”
He does, though he wont tell them. He keeps quiet and looks down. He looks like a child who’s just been grounded. He knew making amends wouldn’t be easy. He knew they would be one of the worst. Because they didn’t make him suffer. He made them suffer.
“Im here to-
-”Make amends”, i know. So what ? Do you want me to cry at your little speech ? To take pity on you ? Do you want me to forgive you?!”
He wished they could, he knows they can’t.
“Listen, soldier, murderer, monster or Bucky…It doesn’t matter to me. You’re the one who destroyed me, and you’re currently in my house, the home I made for myself as I tried desperately to rebuild myself. You’re making a new identity for yourself ? Good for you. You took everything from me, and that’s something I can never remake .”
Bucky feels angry at them. It’s selfish, he knows, but he’s trying so hard and they just…Brush it off, as if he never even thought of trying. As if it was impossible for him to change. As if he was always rotten and despicable even before the war.
“I’m just trying to make amends.”
He simply says, keeping his tone under control, so his voice wouldn’t shake with his own anger. He’s not the one who should be angry.
“Great, so what ?”
Bucky doesn’t look at them.
“Do I have to cry on your poor little victim's past ? Should I be moved by your little speech ? Will those amends help me reunite with my family ? You know what I think ? I think you’re not doing that for those you’ve hurt, but for yourself. You can’t bring yourself to live with everything you’ve done and you so desperately want to erase your past and live as if it never happened.”
And isn’t that the goal of all of this ? Isn”t that the reason his therapist gave him ? Those amends are for him. For him to make it easier to live with himself. Did he ever consider those he hurt ? He’s not sure.
“Well, guess what ? I don’t care. I want you to suffer, more than I did that night. I want you to have nightmares and be haunted by the memories of all those people you killed. That’s what you deserve.”
Angry, distressed. Bucky is lost. Does he deserve to suffer ? Maybe. Did he deserve what happened to him ? He doesn't know. He wants to think that no, he doesn’t deserve any of that. Yet…He can’t bring himself to disagree. But he’s so angry .
“I have been haunted by those memories for years. Every night, I see those faces. The faces of the innocent I had killed. The faces of those I had hurt.”
He clenches his fist, so tight that his knuckles turn white. There’s pain in his voice.
“Do you even know who I am ?”
Bucky perks up, looking away from the floor and up at them. The surprise clear on his face.
“Yes, i do…”
His voice is small, hesitant.
“Because I remember you. Your face, the look in your eyes…I remember everything so clearly. And this arm..”
Bucky unclenches his fist, his metal fist.
“...This arm that killed my family.”
Bucky takes a deep breath. He wants them to see he changed.
“It may have been my face and my arm, but it wasn’t my choice. I was tortured into…this. I want to make sure those who did this to me can’t do it to anyone else, I want…I want to be free, and human again.”
Bucky expected anger. He expected the loathing…But they huffed.
“Oh, please. Stop with the pity party.”
Bucky shouldn’t. He repeats rule number two in his head. Do not hurt anyone. He’s so frustrated. He’s not sure he can take much more.
“Do you think I have no rights or feelings on my own ? What about my pain and suffering ? Why won’t you consider that ?”
They slam their hand on the table.
“Because nobody considered mine!”
They yelled. Tears of anger rolling down their cheeks.
Bucky stays silent. Mouth shut, a taste of bile crippling its way up his throat.
He feels sick. Because of his selfishness. Because, yes, he’s not the only one. He suffered and made others suffer. Of course he wouldn't be forgiven.
Deep down he hoped that, like Steve did, they would give him a chance.
He’s human after all, and hope is part of being human.
And oh, he’s human .
It feels good.
Maybe he doesn't need forgiveness.
He watches as they cry. The anger seems to have dissipated to make place for sorrows.
“Eddie…”
Eddie looks at him, eyes full of tears and despair.
“I despise you.”
“I know.”
Bucky knows because he despise himself too.
“I am no longer the Winter Soldier. I am James Bucky Barnes.”
Eddie look at him. They stopped crying.
“The monster who killed your family, no longer exists.”
And perhaps that's what they both needed. Not forgiveness, not excuses. They needed to know .
Eddie cries again, this time from relief.
“Thank you”
They cry out. It’s not forgiveness, because how would they forgive him ? Bucky wouldn't forgive himself.
“Thank you, Bucky.”
They look at him with a smile. Small and gentle.
And Bucky smiles back. A genuine smile.
Because the winter soldier is no more, and the monster in their nightmare won't appear ever again.
Bucky doesn't feel so empty now.