When a routine evaluation triggers Bucky’s deepest HYDRA trauma, he no longer sees Y/n as someone safe, but as someone he needs to fear.
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@cayennecheyenneThe evaluation room was sterile and white, every surface polished to a clinical gleam under fluorescent lights that hummed faintly overhead.
Above the examination chair, a large medical monitor tracked vitals in steady, rhythmic pulses. Bruce Banner stood at the counter, tablet in hand, reviewing notes.
Helen Cho stood near the monitor, her posture calm but her eyes sharp, watching the readings fluctuate.
Bucky Barnes sat rigidly in the chair, his hands resting flat against the armrests. His metal fingers didn't move. His flesh hand didn't either.
Bruce Banner
without looking up from the tablet Your sleep has been worse?
Bucky's jaw tightened.
Bucky Barnes
Yeah.
Bruce Banner
And the nightmares?
Bucky Barnes
Still there.
Helen glanced at the monitor, then back at Bucky.
Helen Cho
Your heart rate has been elevated during sleep. How often are you waking up?
Bucky shrugged. The movement was small, almost mechanical.
Bucky Barnes
Depends.
Bruce made another note on the tablet. The stylus scratched lightly against the screen.
Bruce Banner
Any episodes of disorientation?
A pause. Bucky's eyes flickered toward the door, then back.
Bucky Barnes
Sometimes.
From the corner of the room, {y/n} watched quietly. Bucky glanced toward her for half a second before looking away.
Helen Cho
And when you're disoriented, do you ever become aggressive?
Bucky's expression hardened. His jaw set.
Bucky Barnes
No.
A sudden metallic clatter echoed from the hallway. Something falling. A tray, maybe. The sound rang sharp and unexpected.
Bucky's head snapped toward the door. His breathing changed. Faster. Shallower.
Bruce Banner
slowly, carefully James?
Bucky blinked rapidly. His metal hand twitched against the armrest.
Bucky Barnes
I'm fine.
Bruce slowly lowered his tablet.
Bruce Banner
Okay. We're going to take a break.
Bucky stood. The chair didn't scrape. He moved like he'd forgotten it was there.
Bucky Barnes
I said I'm fine.
Helen moved cautiously toward him, one hand raised.
Helen Cho
Bucky, sit down.
Bucky stepped backward. His spine hit the wall.
Bucky Barnes
Don't.
His metal hand curled into a fist. The plates shifted with a soft, mechanical whir.
Bruce Banner
both hands raised Nobody's going to hurt you.
But Bucky wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were fixed on something none of them could see.
Helen reached for his arm.
Bucky reacted instantly.
The chair scraped violently against the floor as Bruce and Helen struggled to keep him from hurting himself. His metal arm swung wide. Bruce ducked. Helen grabbed his shoulder.
Bucky Barnes
Let me go!
The restraints snapped around his wrists. Metal on metal. A sound like a lock engaging.
Bucky stared down at them.
His breathing stopped.
Bruce immediately recognized the look in his eyes.
Bruce Banner
Bucky?
Nothing.
The fluorescent lights above him blurred. The sterile walls disappeared. The smell of metal filled his lungs. Cold restraints pressed against his wrists.
The Winter Soldier was back.
The door opened.
{y/n} stepped inside.
Bucky's eyes found her.
For a moment, she waited for recognition.
It never came.
His breathing became faster. He pulled uselessly against the restraints. The metal cuffs creaked but held.
Bucky Barnes
Stay back.
{y/n} froze.
Bucky stared at her like she was a stranger.
Bucky Barnes
voice cracking Please. Don't let them touch me.
Bruce slowly looked toward Helen. Helen's expression had gone pale.
Because neither of them had ever seen Bucky look this afraid.
And {y/n} stood completely still as Bucky looked at her like she was one of the people who had once kept him in that chair.