Caged in Comfort (Pt. 11)
Summary: During a routine medical checkup, you begin to panic as memories of the lab resurface, leaving you clinging to Bucky for comfort and safety. Despite Steve’s quiet guilt and Bruce’s gentle approach, it’s Bucky who anchors you through the fear. (Dark Stucky x little!reader)
Warnings/Disclaimer: Minors DNI. Dark Stucky. Age Regression. Forced Age Regression (References to Drugging/Drugged milk, Forced little space). Angst. Hurt/comfort. Stockholm Syndrome in the future likely. You are responsible for the media you consume.
Word Count: 2.7k+
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It started that morning, with the soft shuffle of blankets and the creak of the door.
You were curled up on the couch in the living room, knees drawn to your chest beneath the soft cotton of the pastel outfit they’d dressed you in that morning, ruffled sleeves, patterned leggings, and those socks with the tiny bows that always made you frown.
Bucky had carried you out here earlier, gently, one arm under your legs and the other around your back, whispering quiet things that didn’t need a response even though you were more conscious than you have been in a while.
Steve was there too, not far, but not close either. He seemed to be always hovering nowadays. But he didn’t sit on the couch though. He was near the kitchen currently, pretending to check something on the counter, though his eyes kept drifting over to you like he couldn’t help it. You didn’t meet them.
Meanwhile, Bucky crouched in front of you, voice low and calm. “Hey, sweetheart. Gonna need you to come with me for a bit today.”
You blinked up at him slowly, pacifier still in your mouth. You didn’t answer, just stared at him. You weren’t afraid exactly, but more unsure and guarded.
He didn’t push, waiting patiently for your response.
After a few seconds, you slipped the paci out and asked in a whisper, “Where?”
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Checkup,” He said carefully. “We just wanna make sure you’re okay. Bruce is a doctor, he’s not gonna hurt you.”
Your shoulders stiffened.
Doctor.
That word made your stomach twist.
You shrank deeper into the couch, pulling the blanket over yourself more. “No.”
Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t scold. He sat back on the floor instead, lowering himself to your level completely. “I know. I know it sounds bad, but it won’t be like before. It’s not a lab, it’s just… a quiet room. No tanks or straps. Just someone to make sure you’re healthy.”
You didn’t move.
Steve stepped more into the room, slower yet watching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of guilt, hesitation, and maybe even jealousy. Like he wanted to step in, wanted to fix it, but couldn’t find the words anymore.
Maybe he knew you wouldn’t trust him to say them and maybe he didn’t trust himself to try.
“We don’t have to go now,” Bucky offered after a pause. “But you should eat a little first, yeah? Something soft. Then we’ll bring one of your stuffies. You can pick.”
You still didn’t answer. But eventually, you let him help you up.
You picked the little worn elephant from the armrest and clutched it to your chest. Bucky gave you time. He helped warm up oatmeal, added a little cinnamon and a drizzle of honey like you liked, and let you eat in silence while he sat nearby. He even let you feed yourself and only occasionally wiped your face with a napkin.
Meanwhile, Steve lingered at the edge of the room. His hands were on his hips, like he was about to say something but when your eyes flicked toward him briefly, his mouth closed again.
Maybe he saw the way you leaned into Bucky instead. How you looked at him now when something made your chest tighten.
You heard Steve sigh softly, almost inaudibly, then step away.
Once you’d finished the oatmeal, Bucky crouched again and wiped your mouth with a warm cloth, gentle and soothing. “There you go. Still doing okay?”
You nodded, hesitant and quiet.
He didn’t ask again. Just stood and reached out his hand as you took it.
Together, you made your way down the hall. Your fingers clutched the elephant with your other free hand buried in Bucky’s. He didn’t rush. He didn’t try to distract you either. Just stayed steady.
But as you neared the hallway where the medical doors waited, even if they weren’t metal and sterile like the ones from before, your breathing shifted into something shallower and uneven. Your feet began to drag, body slowing instinctively like a tether was pulling you backward. Bucky noticed it first. His hand, warm and steady around yours, gave a light squeeze.
“Hey, sweetheart,” He spoke gently, crouching slightly so he could look at you. “It’s alright. It’s just a checkup, remember? No one’s gonna hurt you.”
But his voice had barely registered through the loud, pulsing panic in your ears. You saw white walls ahead, heard the quiet hum of lights, smelled something too clean. It was too much like then. The world blurred at the edges.
Steve had followed behind the two of you, trying to give space at first, but when he saw your shoulders tense and your lip wobble, he stepped forward. His expression softened, regret flickering in his gaze. He crouched beside Bucky but when he reached for you, you took a staggering step back.
“No–” You choked out, eyes wide, clinging tighter to Bucky’s hand instead. Your fingers curled around his like he was the only thing anchoring you.
Steve’s hand froze mid-air, then slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, honey,” He said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you…”
But you turned your face into Bucky’s side, barely able to breathe as tears already began spilling over. Bucky wrapped an arm around you immediately, lifting you slightly as he murmured, “I’ve got you. You’re okay, you’re safe.”
Steve straightened, jaw tense with shame written across his face. He didn’t try again. Just stood behind the two of you, quieter now, watching as Bucky shifted your weight into his arms and carried you the rest of the way. His touch was secure and grounding, the steady thud of his heart the only sound you focused on.
The door to the medical wing clicked open. It wasn’t a lab actually, but the scent of antiseptic lingered in the corners, and the soft beep of equipment echoed too loud in your ears. You tensed all over again.
“Easy,” Bucky whispered, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You’re not alone.”
Your breath hitched when you saw the faint shine of medical tools on the counter. Bucky felt it and adjusted his grip, one hand gently shielding your gaze as he guided you further in. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, your soft whimper barely audible as you clutched your stuffed animal.
Steve trailed behind quietly. His shoulders were stiff, hands tucked in his jacket pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them anymore. He stayed by the door.
When you all made it inside one of the rooms, a soft voice greeted you. “Hi there.” It was gentle, almost fatherly. “I’m Bruce. You don’t know me yet, but I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”
Bucky turned slightly so Bruce could see you, but didn’t put you down. You didn’t respond back.
“She’s nervous,” Bucky said, tone firm. “Not used to this, we’re… takin’ it slow.”
Bruce gave a small nod. “Of course. I just want to make sure she’s alright, that’s all. She can stay with you the whole time. I’ll just be listening to her heartbeat, maybe checking her breathing, things like that. Deal?”
You still didn’t answer as you remained tucked close into Bucky’s shirt. But when his hand found yours again and gave it a reassuring squeeze, your fingers curled back around his. That was enough for Bruce.
“I’ll talk you both through it before anything happens,” Bruce said softly, backing off a few steps to give space. “And if she gets overwhelmed, we can take a break.”
Bucky guided you toward the soft padded bench against the wall instead of the examination table. He sat down with you in his lap, letting you stay curled in the safety of his arms. Your stuffed elephant was placed beside the both of you like a guard.
Steve lingered nearby, eyes flicking to you and then away again. The way you flinched from him earlier, the way you hadn’t even looked back, weighed heavy in his chest.
“She didn’t used to be like this,” He murmured under his breath.
Bucky didn’t look at him. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
You didn’t hear their exchange. Your body was still on edge, but Bucky’s steady heartbeat beneath your ear and the low, calm tone of Bruce’s voice gradually steadied your breathing. Still, you stayed wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, your body smaller somehow, sunken and quiet.
Bucky didn’t move to shift you, didn’t try to “fix” your posture. He just let you be.
“Okay,” Bruce finally said, his voice soft, “I’ll talk through what I’m going to do first, just like I said. That way there are no surprises.”
Your grip on Bucky tightened slightly as your head gave a tiny nod, more a reflex than choice. You were trying to be brave. Trying to stay in your little bubble where things were simpler, safer but this was already starting to feel like before.
“I’d like to listen to her heart and lungs first,” Bruce spoke. “Over clothes is fine and then I’ll check her eyes, ears, all external stuff.”
“She doesn’t like when things beep by the way,” Bucky added, protective instinct flashing through his voice.
“The machines can be muted,” Bruce said right away. “I already did so in this room, just in case.”
That helped a little even though you were trembling. Your breathing wasn’t panicked, but more shallow and strained. The scent of rubbing alcohol and clean linens had already started to pick at the back of your mind.
Bucky shifted you gently so he could lean back more comfortably against the bench, cradling you against him like you were made of glass. Steve hadn’t said a word since that muttered comment earlier. He leaned on the far wall now, arms crossed but uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be part of this. And maybe he wasn’t.
Bruce stepped a little closer but kept a careful distance.
“May I try now?” He asked you, not Bucky. “Just a listen, you can stay right where you are.”
You didn’t answer, but you didn’t shake your head either.
“She’s saying yes,” Bucky translated, watching you. “I don’t think she’s gonna talk right now.”
Bruce gave a small, understanding smile. “Alright.”
Slowly, Bruce approached. He showed you the stethoscope first, hanging from his hand like a necklace, harmless and quiet. When you didn’t jerk away, he came to a slow stop in front of you and Bucky.
“This might be a little cold, but I’ll be quick.”
You made a soft sound that sounded half whine, half hiccup, but you didn’t bolt.
The moment the cold round piece touched the fabric of your outfit over your chest, you shrank into Bucky with a soft whimper. However, you didn’t run.
“Good job,” Bucky whispered. “So brave, sweetheart. You’re doin’ perfect.”
Bruce moved the stethoscope carefully, listening. His brow furrowed just slightly at how rapid your heart still was.
“She’s under a lot of stress,” He said quietly. “Nothing dangerous, but we should still go slow.”
“We are,” Bucky said, just a touch too sharp.
Bruce gave a small nod and retreated again once he was finished.
You were breathing harder now. Still not full-blown panicked, but it was building.
“We can take a break here,” Bruce offered. “Or try again another day.”
“She needs this,” Bucky murmured. “But only what she can handle.”
You whimpered when Bruce picked up the otoscope next, that tiny ear-checking flashlight tool. The shape alone reminded you of lab instruments and that was enough to undo more of your calm.
You turned your face into Bucky’s shoulder again and whispered something muffled.
“Say it again, baby,” He murmured.
“Dun’ like him…”
Steve’s head snapped up from across the room. He thought you meant him. He nearly stepped forward.
But Bucky gently angled your face back out, hand warm against your cheek. “You mean Bruce?” He clarified, voice low, careful.
You hesitated, then nodded.
Bruce paused with the instrument in his hand, then immediately set it back down.
“No problem. We can skip that part.”
The tension in the room dropped just a bit at Bruce’s calm response. You didn’t let go of Bucky’s hand the entire time, not even as the exam continued in quieter increments with soft-spoken questions and gentle touches. The occasional small light passed over your eyes along with the quick check of your reflexes.
When things grew overwhelming, Bucky would quietly distract you, pointing out funny shapes in Bruce’s charts or tapping your fingers in a pattern that made you giggle. They even managed to get a small amount of blood drawn after promising you another trip outside if you behaved.
Eventually, the exam was over. You sat on the bench by yourself now with your legs swinging softly, a red-and-yellow swirled sucker tucked in your cheek. A reward for being so good, Bruce had said. It made your hands feel busy and your thoughts slow down.
Bucky stood close by, crouched to help you put your shoes back on. Steve lingered at the far end of the room now, quiet and hesitant. Not because he wasn’t allowed near you, but because it had become increasingly clear you didn’t want him there right now.
Bruce gently shut the tablet in his hand and motioned subtly for the two men to follow him toward the far side of the room, out of your immediate earshot. Bucky gave your knee a reassuring squeeze and promised he’d be right back before following.
Bruce’s expression was more serious now, the playful doctor mask dropped.
“She’s physically stable. No signs of long-term malnutrition, dehydration, or vitamin deficiencies.” He tapped the tablet’s corner, brows drawn. “But she’s been over-medicated. Those regression enhancers, whatever synthetic variation of benzodiazepines or emotional suppressant you’ve used, are still showing up in her blood work.”
Steve exhaled, jaw tight. “How long till it clears out?”
“She’s on a lower dose now, right?” Bruce asked, glancing to Bucky for confirmation.
“Yeah. We cut it to half two days ago. She hasn’t been fighting us as much.”
Bruce gave a tight nod. “At that rate, a couple more days and the levels should be negligible. But…”
“But?” Steve’s voice came sharper than intended.
Bruce’s gaze didn’t soften. “But the dependency is already there. Her body’s used to being chemically ‘nudged into littlespace’. It’s become a crutch. You overdid it.”
Steve stiffened. “I was trying to help.”
“You didn’t listen when she started showing signs of being overwhelmed,” Bruce said, without heat but without apology. “That’s not helping, it’s control. She’s attached to Bucky now because Bucky stepped in when she was drowning.”
Bucky, for once, didn’t revel in that victory. He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, the tension low and heavy in his shoulders. “What now?”
Bruce glanced back toward the girl on the bench. You were leaning against the wall, contentedly sucking on your candy, the little stuffed elephant gripped in your hand like a security object.
“She’ll need time to adjust. No more boosters in her milk or bottle. Let her go into that state on her own terms. She needs consistency and someone she trusts at all times.”
Bucky nodded immediately. Steve, slower.
Bruce added, “And I’d suggest she doesn’t meet the others yet. Not until she’s stronger, emotionally and physically.”
The two men exchanged a glance, years of war-bonded brotherhood tangled now with something more complicated. Guilt, care, and concern.
Bruce sighed slowly, packing away his notes. “ You say you want her to feel safe enough to be little? Then start by earning that safety. Because right now, whether you meant well or not, you still took her and pushed her too hard just like the others did. And no amount of good intentions changes that”
They didn’t argue. There wasn’t much room left for that.
When they walked back over, you blinked up at them.
Steve tried to offer you a soft smile, but you ducked your head, looking down at your stuffed elephant instead. His smile faltered again.
And when Bucky gently reached for your hand without even glancing at Steve, you took it, your hand slipping into his like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Steve didn’t say anything, just followed a few steps behind as Bucky led you out of the medical wing, his chest aching a little more.
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