A/N : I don't know why I am so late in posting this. I had this done for like a week. I'm sorry I'm so forgetful 😔. Also this would have come out 3 days early if tumblr didn't mess with me
It's already past midnight when they drag you from your cot and push you into his cell.
You fall to the floor with a groan.
“Patch him up” a voice commands from behind as you try to get up. “Yes sir” your voice is low and laced with remnants of sleep you were torn away from.
They lock the cell behind them and walk away. You look up, eyeing the camera on the corner.
No light. No surveillance tonight.
Of course not. Those sadist bastards would be too tired of bossing the winter soldier around and would now waste away in their rooms.
“You're here” his voice pulls you from your thoughts and you quickly run to him.
“James” your hand finds his cheek in the dark. The lights are low enough to mislead the guards but bright enough that you can see him clearly.
His face is bruised in places, lip split and bleeding, a gash on his temple, his metal arm stays limp in his lap.
“I'm fine” he comforts, leaning into your touch.
Tears well up in your eyes “No you're not. You're….hurt. I—”
“It's okay” he tries to smile, but his lip snags at the cut, bleeding more. “You're here now. I'll be fine”
He pulls you into him. Breathing you in. Taking in the only sense of normalcy he can find in this place.
You know its dangerous. If anyone knew about your little love affair—if you can even call it that—you'd be killed in an instant. They'd wipe him and send him somewhere else.
Your body shudders at the thought. But you don't pull away. You can't. He's the only solace you have in this place. Only one you wake up wanting to see everyday.
“Let me take care of you first” you sit up, grabbing the bandage and antiseptic solution they provided you.
You wait for his approval.
He nods and you dab a cotton onto the wound on his temple. He doesn't wince at the sting. But you still blow at it, wanting to ease the pain the best you can.
James sits silently on the edge of the cot while you work, your back half-turned to the door, one ear always tuned for footsteps.
His shoulder is cut, not deep, but angry-looking. you clean it carefully, like you're afraid he might break if you press too hard.
You tape the bandage into place and meet his eyes. They've gone distant now, thinking, “Did something… happen?”
“There was a man,” he says slowly. “On a bridge.”
Your hand stills.
“They told me to eliminate him. He kept saying my name.” His brow tightens, like the word hurts. “Not Soldier. Not asset. My name.”
You swallow. “James?”
He nods once.
“They said he was lying. That he was an enemy.” His metal fingers curl against his thigh. “But when he looked at me… it felt like…….I knew him.”
You step closer without thinking, lowering your voice. “What did he say?”
“That I used to be his friend.”
A pause.
“That I wasn’t this.” He gestures to all of himself.
Your chest aches at the way he says it. Not angry. Just confused.
You press gauze to his shoulder again, just to have something to do. “And what did you do?”
“I didn’t shoot him.” He looks at you like that’s a confession. “I couldn’t.”
The door hums faintly. Somewhere far away, boots pass. You force your hands to keep moving.
“They’ll notice,” you whisper.
“I know.”
Silence settles between you, heavy but fragile.
Then he says, very quietly, “I don’t think they’re right about me.”
Your breath catches.
“I think…” He searches for the words like they’re buried under ice. “I think I had a life before this. And I think that man was part of it.”
You cup his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek. “You did. I know it.”
His eyes soften in a way they never do in front of anyone else.
“We can’t stay here,” he says. “Not forever.”
Your pulse jumps. “James—”
“I mean it,” he says. “Not just dreaming. We’ll leave. Somewhere they don’t tell me who I am. Somewhere they don’t own you.”
You shake your head, half terrified, half hopeful. “They’ll hunt us.”
“Let them,” he says. “I'm a ghost of their own making, they'll never find us”
He reaches out, careful, like he’s afraid of breaking the moment. His metal fingers brush your wrist.
“Will you come with me?”
The answer is already in your eyes before you say it.
“Yes.”
Dividers : @dividers-are-us
Tag list : @redstarleftarm, @sweetserendipity65, @sambuckystony, @nymphhbabiee, @darlingdenise, @quantumbarnes, @i-gotta-go-so-much-bigger, @bstan01, @phoenix-in-writing, @singulartoast, @danerb67
“Little Bit Lonely” by Billy Currington makes me think of trailer park Bucky 🫶
Ooh, Toast. I'll have to give this a listen later, but I looked up the lyrics. 👀
Why am I now imagining him asking for flowers from Gracie's garden or someone else's before he goes to see you? The gentleman in him doesn't just want to steal them. And we know he'd never let you feel lonely. 😌
