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VI!!!!!!! thank you SO much my friend ❤️ your love and support to not only this fic but also to me means the absolute world. i’m so excited for you to read more!!! (whenever i get my act together enough to post a chapter)

ILYYYYYYY

Reflections - Chapter 8: Locks and White Walls

Bucky Barnes v fem!Reader

WC: 7.5k

Chapter Summary: Sam and Bucky have a conversation. Firebug settles in.

Content Warnings: PTSD, flashbacks, allusions to torture.

a/n: HI SORRY my life is insane but I hope this is okay and worth the wait!!!

***

It’s been a long time since Bucky had forced himself to remain this still and quiet.

Yes, that even counts the few Avengers missions he’d taken part in.

The quinjet is a smooth flight no matter what. Turbulence, storms, even during battle, it kept pretty steady for the most part. Any sort of movement feels like gliding. It’s consistent that way.

Usually, smoothness is something Bucky and the jet have in common. Even before…all of that…he’d been nothing but smooth. Suave, even. Even when his brain was at war with itself, his body maintained surety and control.

The only difference now is her.

She’d fallen asleep seconds after Banner gave her the injection. Bucky had seen her body tense, even more than it already was, when she saw the needle. His own muscles mimicked hers, unable to keep his visceral reaction to drugs and needles at bay.

Even still, that smoothness managed to stay in the pilot’s seat. He let his instincts take control, murmuring soft assurances to her as she let Banner stick her with a needle. Maybe he should’ve given her some space, but after those first few words seemed to calm her, he couldn’t stop.

Firebug had been fast asleep now for about an hour and a half. The quinjet cuts down flight time, so even with the long distance between New York and Colorado, they would be there in the next hour or two. Her head tilts toward him, his heightened senses hearing the soft snuffling noises she makes as she sleeps.

The circles under her eyes, the way her body droops when she’s standing…Bucky knows lack of sleep. He knows trauma. It’s why he won’t let himself move now, terrified he’ll disturb what’s probably the first good sleep she’s had in a minute.

The only movement he allows himself is slightly moving his head so he can look down at her. He checks her breathing, slightly nervous about her reaction to the drug, but mostly he’s drawn to her face.

She looks younger this way. Her features get softer in sleep, as opposed to the hard lines he’s only ever seen in the day he’s known her. With a pang, he realizes this might’ve been how she’d look all the time if she’d never met Hydra. If she’d had a chance at a normal life.

As his eyes trace her face, his body finally relaxes into the seat. Bucky might be smooth in a lot of ways, but he’s made up of sharp edges. Rigid to a fault. He’s still not sure how she does this to him, but after years of feeling unable to relax, he wants more. Needs more.

Bucky’s limbs tense right up again as he glances up and sees Steve in the cockpit. Natasha is the one actually piloting, but Steve hovers behind her like a sentinel. He’s got his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he stares out the window.

His best friend hasn’t relaxed since they began this mission, and Bucky has the unwelcome urge to put himself between him and the slumbering girl next to him.

“Ignore him,” a deep voice mutters next to him.

Bucky jumps as he turns to see Sam had silently taken the seat next to him on his other side, pulling a laugh from the man.

“I’ve never been able to sneak up on you, not once,” he wheezes quietly, “and all I needed was some poor traumatized girl from the mountains?”

He settles for rolling his eyes, making sure Sam sees it. If it weren’t for Firebug, he’d be giving his friend a sharp dig to the gut with his elbow. The metal one.

“Shut up, she’s sleeping,” Bucky mutters darkly, eyes glancing down to make sure of it. Even with Sam’s chuckling laugh, her eyes stay closed.

“Please, she’s not waking up until we get there. You know how good Banner’s drugs are.”

“Still, don’t be such an ass.”

Sam laughs again in that stupid, knowing way of his.

“You just don’t like that I pulled one over on you--”

“No you did not,” he interjects, “you’re just taking advantage—”

“Of course I’m taking advantage. It’s called working smarter not harder—”

They’re interrupted by a little sound from Bucky’s other side. A soft rustle of fabric. They both look over to her quickly, falling completely silent.

They both let out an exhale of relief when they realize she’s just slumped farther over in her seat. Her eyes are still glued shut.

They settle in silence, the bickering forgotten as a sort of comfort stretching over the two friends as the jet flies on. Bucky lets Sam go on believing he’s won this round, and fuck, maybe he has. He’ll get him when he’s least expecting it.

“I’m happy the sedative worked,” Sam murmurs, breaking the silence.

Bucky turns slightly to face him, and sees him training his warm smile on her sleeping figure.

“Me too,” he responds, “I wasn’t sure if it would or not. Too many uncertainties.”

Sam hums in agreement, and the quiet settles in again. Bucky leans back in his seat again, trying to ignore the prickling feeling he gets whenever Steve’s eyes dart in their direction. He can feel Sam looking at him too every now and again, something clearly on his mind.

So, Bucky decides to confront the one friend he feels comfortable confronting at the moment.

“Out with it.”

“Huh?”

“I know you’re trying to think of how to say whatever it is you’re thinking about, so just say it.”

Sam sighs, knowing he’s been caught. He takes another minute before he speaks, but Bucky knows he’s not avoiding him. He’s not like that.

“Did you know her? From…from before?��

Bucky’s brow furrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Hey, I think it’s a fair question.”

It is. It absolutely is a fair question. Bucky felt the tug of familiarity himself when he looked into her eyes for the first time. But there’s no way. He was alone during his entire time as the Winter Soldier. Hydra saw to that.

“No, I didn’t know her. Today was my first time meeting her.”

“Hm,” Sam hums to himself.

“What’s the sound for?”

“What sound?”

“The ‘hm’.”

“What ‘hm’?”

“You made a ‘hm’.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did.”

“I don’t ‘hm’ I have never made that sound in my life.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake—”

Their quiet argument is halted again. Only this time, Bucky falls silent in the middle of his frustrated outburst. He’s never one to give up on bickering, so Sam follows suit soon after.

It wasn’t a sound that interrupted them this time. It’s because a soft, warm weight had settled against Bucky’s shoulder.

He looks down slowly, full of shock and awe and he sees Firebug sleeping peacefully against his shoulder. Her body had finally slumped over to the point where it caved in on itself in his direction, leaning until she rested her weight against him. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat.

He’s touching her. She’s touching him.

He can’t breathe.

“This is why I asked if you knew her,” Sam whispers.

Bucky turns to look at him, trying to keep as still as possible for her, and finds his friend wearing the slightly sad version of a shit easting grin. He didn’t even know that was possible until now.

“What the fuck does that even mean? Being cryptic looks weird on you.”

“C’mon, don’t act like you don’t understand what I’m saying,” Sam huffs, shaking his head. That only served to frustrate Bucky even more.

“I don’t get it, and you’re really starting to piss me off,” Bucky growls. The only reason he hasn’t smacked Sam upside the head yet is because of his sheer luck in having Firebug sleep on his shoulder.

Sam must’ve heard the edge in his voice, because he looks at him and says, “I’ve never seen you like this before. Not over anything, or anyone.”

The confused wrinkle between Bucky’s eyes only gets deeper.

But Sam just keeps looking at him, full of calm insightfulness that makes Bucky want to toss him out the window. Let the bastard hitchhike his way back to the Compound.

“Sam, I have no clue—”

“Look man, I don’t really know how to explain it either,” Sam acquiesces, raising both of his hands, “but she brings out a side of you I’ve never seen. She’s clearly important to you.”

Bucky’s taken aback, mostly because Sam’s right. She is important to him. He knew that from the moment Steve and the others told them her story yesterday. That feeling became more pronounced when he saw her face in person for the first time, fire wreathing her trembling hands.

He wishes he could explain it away by saying it’s because of how similar their stories are, and hell, maybe that’s really all there is to it.

But as Bucky looks down at her again, her warmth seeping into his bones, he knows it’s more complicated than that. He just doesn’t know why, or even how to start finding out.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.”

“I’m not sure Steve would agree with you,” Bucky murmurs in response, glancing up at the stiff figure of his friend up front.

“Leave him to me,” Sam whispers, “he just might need some time and a little extra help to get his head out of his ass.”

“Oh yeah? You specialize in that sort of thing?”

“Absolutely. Rectum surgery is my passion.”

Bucky can’t maintain his composure, letting out a sound somewhere between a honk and a snort. Still very aware of the soft, warm weight resting against him, he uses every ounce of self-control he has to clamp down on his laughter. Sam’s utter inability to chill the fuck out leaves his friend letting out tea kettle wheezes, which of course breaks down Bucky’s composure until he’s cackling as quietly and stilly as humanly possible.

It's a testament to the power of Banner’s sedative that she doesn’t even stir.

***

“Shouldn’t she be awake by now?”

“Give her a minute. We got to New York earlier than expected – the sedative is only just now wearing off.”

Clawing your way back to consciousness is a fight. The drug and it’s aftereffects add weight to your limbs. It would be easier to just surrender and let yourself fall back to sleep.

The urge vanishes just as quickly as it appears. You’ve become aware of the muffled sound of voices muttering around you. The slight chill from the air nips your exposed left arm, but the right one feels weirdly…warm?

You’re taken aback by the observation. Why on fucking earth would one side of your body be cold and one warm? Then you realize that your face is warm too – along with being slightly smushed. You try to peel open your eyelids, get an idea of what the situation is, but they still felt beyond heavy.

The feeling of helplessness is suffocating. You feel like you’re underwater, fighting to register every sound of muttered conversation happening right beside you.

Where even are you? How did you get here?

With your rising anxiety, the chill in the air lessens. Your skin heats up as you try to make yourself move. Speak. Blink. Anything.

“Well we can’t carry in an unconscious girl, there’s no telling who’s hanging out with a camera.”

“Stark, we can’t be worried about your reputation right now.”

“Actually I’m worried about all of our reputations you insufferable kale smoothie—”

“Guys, I think we need to get her—”

Your body suddenly starts responding to the shouting in your brain and you surge upward. Your eyes shoot open as you go, breath coming in great heaves and heart hammering as you take in the scene around you.

The small group standing watch around you had moved when you did, taking two big steps back and taking up defensive positions.

Unable to stand up due to the extreme shakiness in your legs, all you can do is look around you and try to get yourself oriented. Your eyes land on the one and only Tony Stark, and it all comes flooding back.

Hydra.

Debbie.

Your mountains.

The Avengers.

There’s more of them here now besides just Tony. Bruce Banner hovers near the back of the group, fingers twitching as he watches you apprehensively. Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff are a little closer. They both still look nervous but they’re at least trying to maintain some semblance of calm.

Then you remember the warmth to your right. The steady heat seeping into your body. You quickly look over to find the source, only to find Bucky. He’s the only one completely relaxed. Nonchalant, even, as he looks down at you with sweet concern in his eyes.

You get a little lost in them. Kind of hard not to. That shade of blue should frankly be illegal.

…then you smell the burning.

You look down at your lap only to realize that you’ve started singing little patches into your jeans where your hands have been resting.

“Shit,” you mutter, picking up your hands and curling them into fists immediately. Luckily, being more aware of your surroundings helps you to douse that fire pretty quickly. You can’t fix your pants with the same speed however, which sucks tremendously considering you don’t have that many options to begin with.

You must’ve made a face, because Stark chimes in with, “Don’t worry about it kid, I hear distressed is more of a trend than a mindset these days.”

Despite his lightheartedness, you still feel a little disoriented and uncomfortable. You aren’t used to sleeping that deeply. Your body feels weird and heavy, like it doesn’t quite belong to you. It brings you back to the all too familiar setting of that god forsaken lab, where that feeling was all you knew.

“Are we there?” You ask, tone gravelly with sleep.

“Yep,” Sam answers, an easy smile curling his mouth.

You like Sam. He’s easy to like. He has this easy going nature that could make anyone feel at home, even someone as prickly and mistrusting as you.

Then you remember how everyone is still watching you. You look around the small group, and suddenly feel very small with all the eyes trained on you. The last two days would be a lot for anyone, but especially when you’re so used to keeping yourself out of sight, it’s difficult being looked at by so many.

You look away and shake your head, trying to dispel the heaviness from the sedative. There’s not much you hate more than feeling powerless. Except maybe being aware that you’re powerless. Luckily, it’s wearing off relatively quickly. With each passing second the feeling gets less pronounced.

You look over to Dr. Banner, slightly in amazement at this drug he’s managed to create, and somehow he already knows what you’re thinking.

Shrugging bashfully, he says, “Drug technology has come a long way. That, and I’m guessing your metabolism is burning through it pretty quickly.”

“Ha, good one,” Stark quips, cracking a half smile.

Banner blanches a little, realizing his accidental pun. He looks at you, face full of embarrassment and apology.

“I just meant…not that you’re literally burning…I mean, we all wake up pretty quickly…”

He keeps trailing off from one thought into the next, clearly flustered. But you find you don’t really mind it. It’s just a figure of speech.

Besides…it was a good one.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, “Stark’s right. It was funny.”

Banner runs a hand through his somehow always disheveled hair. Even though you try to relax, with this handful of people watching you, you feel like you’re under a microscope.

Perhaps sensing your discomfort, most of the group steps back and starts doing other things. Nat goes back up to the cockpit to finish up whatever needed to be done to power down the jet completely. Banner cleans up his medical supplies in his corner. Stark and Sam pull out their phones and step away.

But Bucky stays right next to you. You don’t mind that.

You still focus on your lap instead of him. Your awareness of his presence still feels too intense.

“Sleep well?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes still locked on your hands in your lap, “I didn’t dream for once, so that was cool.”

You clamp your mouth shut. It’s not like he doesn’t know about your nightmares, you think you told them something about them yesterday. But despite how powerful your feelings are about him being so close, you feel a certain…ease with him. Ease that might allow you to say more than you want just yet.

“Guess I should get my bag,” you murmur, going to stand up quickly, but a wave of dizziness slows you down. You sway on your feet a little, the last remainders of the sedative still fighting with you.

A soft touch on your back steadies you, along with a quiet whisper of, “Easy there.”

Every particle of awareness goes to that touch on your back. It’s stabilizing, but even so, your heart starts racing.

Bucky doesn’t linger, but you feel the imprint of his hand long after he’s taken it away. You don’t even want to think about what that preoccupation means for you.

You take your time grabbing your bag, focusing on making sure each and every pocket is zipped as a distraction.

Yep, still good. Not much to do here. Shit.

You feel his eyes on you as he waits, so you decide enough is enough and get ready to go. As you swing your bag over your shoulder, you turn around and see that everyone is already on their way down the ramp and off the ship.

“Oh, sorry,” you mutter, “should we try to catch up?”

“Nah, we don’t need to. Stark and the others will meet us inside.”

Inside.

In the Compound.

The Avengers Compound.

Where you’ll be living for the foreseeable period.

Yeah, none of that is intimidating or anything.

Sensing your hesitation, Bucky murmurs, “It’ll be okay. We just want to make sure you get settled, then we’ll give you some space.”

You nod a little absentmindedly. Space could be nice. Could even help with this out-of-body feeling you’re having.

With Bucky right behind you, you gingerly make your way down the ramp and into the bright, New York sunshine.

You squint as the first rays hit your eyes. After the darkness from the interior of the jet and all your snoozing, you’re decidedly not ready for it. Then the air hits you. It’s hot, not unlike how Colorado can get this time of year, but the humidity is new. It settles over your skin like a clock and you’re not sure you like it.

At the bottom of the ramp, you stop for a minute and look around. The Compound looms just to your left. It’s an imposing structure, all modern architecture that exudes power. It’s incredibly fitting for the people that call this place home.

You’re relieved when you notice the sheer number of windows placed along the face of the building. Plenty of natural light should help the tightness in your chest.

Once you’ve taken in the Compound itself, you look at the landscape surrounding it. There are tress everywhere. If you really focus, searching past the loud humming of the insects all around, you can hear the wind rustling their leaves. To your right glitters the wide expanse of a river. The Hudson, you’re assuming. You can just barely see the lazy current from where you stand with Bucky.

He gives you all the time in the world to take everything in. You glance at him. He’s watching you with a soft, curious expression you can’t quite name.

“Ready to head in?”

You nod, letting him take the lead as you both start to meander toward the building. The white color of its walls is a little off putting. Bad memories dance in the very corners of your mind, threatening to come to the surface if you let down your guard just enough. So instead you continue to try and notice new things. There’s another building off in the distance. It’s flat and low to the ground, but still enormous in size. Maybe it hold other jets like the one you arrived on. As you look up at the windows, you can see people walking back and forth in the hallways, going about their busy days as normal. It’s kind of strange to imagine anything about today feeling normal for anyone. You’re glad they have that.

Just below the windows is a gigantic, Olympic size swimming pool. You and Bucky have ended up right next to it as you make your way inside. The bright blue water is vastly different than the dark, natural waters of the river, but it looks inviting nonetheless in the humid heat. You kind of wish you could jump in—

C’mon, honey! Jump in!

You stop in your tracks. Your skin grows cold despite the temperature of the air around you.

I’ll catch you!

“You okay?” Bucky asks. His voice sounds like it’s coming from miles away.

You did it, you’re so brave!

Your breath catches in your throat. Emotion sits heavy behind your eyes, threatening to spill over at any minute. The voice in your head is eerily familiar. You think you could identify it if you let yourself. Maybe you already know, and that’s why it hurts so much. It’s not often a kind memory like that comes through. Even so…it somehow hurts more than the memories from the Prison. Stabs a different part of you, unexpecting and vulnerable.

“You don’t have to go swimming if you don’t want to,” Bucky says awkwardly next to you, pulling you from your reverie.

Looking up at him in confusion, you remember he has no idea what happened in your head just now. He only sees you looking mournfully at a swimming pool, which, let’s be honest, could look a little strange without the context behind it.

You quickly brush at the dampness in your eyes before glancing over to him.

“No, I just…”

You started to speak. Started to explain. But looking into his eyes is like a trap for you. Your breath catches again for an entirely different, foreign reason. Your voice falls away like summer rain. Something crackles in the air between you. And maybe you’re dead wrong, but Bucky looks just as affected by whatever’s happening as you are.

The two of you settle into this potent trance. Your goal of getting inside is long forgotten.

His eyes stir something in you. Something long forgotten. Those eyes would be hard to forget, but somehow…maybe you did.

Looking down, you see his fingers reaching out toward yours. The movement is tentative, almost as if he’s not sure he should. So, as if on their own accord, you feel your fingers shift as they move ever so slightly to reach for him as well. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion.

It makes it all the more shocking when a crackle of electricity erupts from your fingertips to connect with his.

“What the fuck—”

“Oh my god—”

You both exclaim in bemusement at the same time. The two of you jump backward from each other, the surprise of it all ending the brief spell you had been under.

In all honesty, you forget that hint of a connection with Bucky as you stare at now unfamiliar fingers. You’re not quite sure what just happened.

Looking up, you see Bucky eyeing you warily. He angles his left arm, the metal one you presume, slightly away from you. It doesn’t surprise or even offend you; something like that must be sensitive to electricity.

“What was that?” He asks.

You can tell he’s trying to stay calm and keep his voice steady, but he’s rattled. It’s not hard to see that. You don’t blame him; he and the others prepared for flame, not fucking lightning.

“I don’t know,” you breathe, voice trembling.

“That’s never happened before?”

“Never.”

Looking at his expression, one eyebrow raised in what you read as skepticism, a wave of defensiveness overtakes you.

“Oh come on, what reason would I have for lying?”

“Uh, what the hell? I don’t think you’re lying—"

“Well you clearly don’t think I’m telling the truth.”

“I didn’t say anything—"

“Your face said it all, and I fucking swear that it’s never happened before—”

“I didn’t say anything—"

“Everything okay out here?”

You both turn and see Sam peeking his head out of the glass doors at the entrance. He’s taking in your stance, the way you’ve both kind of squared up, and raises his brows. You try to relax your stance, but the tension lingers in your arms and the hard set of your mouth. Your fingers curl into tight fists at your sides.

“We’re good, man,” Bucky answers calmly, “she just…”

He goes to answer, but nothing comes out.

But you’re a good liar. You’ve stayed alive through lying.

“Bucky here just tried to grab my bag for me and it startled me, that’s all,” you jump in, covering his awkward pause, “I don’t do sudden movements.”

Sam only raises his brows higher but he doesn’t say anything. He just jerks his head behind him, telling you both to hurry it up before walking in himself.

As you and Bucky walk quickly inside, you mutter a tight, “I’m sorry, it just…it scared me.”

“S’okay,” Bucky reassures. Is he still a little tense, or is that your imagination? You’re not too sure.

“Please don’t say anything to them yet,” you say in a rush, right before he opens the door.

He pauses, looking back at your with trepidation in his gaze.

“They probably should know—”

“I know. And I’ll say something, I swear. Just give me the chance to, okay?”

Bucky nods after a second. He still seems unsure, but you think he’ll stick to his word. As long as you don’t wait for too long. Trying to avoid his eyes, you go through the door he holds open for you.

You step into a huge, airy room. Everything is modern and sleek. Looking up, you see walkways on different levels. In the backdrop are some more enormous windows. They allow bright afternoon sunshine to flood in, nearly erasing the feeling of being indoors.

And it doesn’t smell like a lab. You’re thankful for that.

“Did you take the scenic route or something, kid?”

Stark’s voice cuts through your observations. You look forward, finding him leaning casually against what you assume to be the front desk. An elegant woman stands straight next to him, her reddish blonde hair pulled back into a smooth ponytail. As you meet her eyes, you notice how warm and kind her smile is. It makes you feel safer.

“Hello,” she says, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

Then she comes at you quickly. Her hand is outstretched, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. You don’t mean to, but you flinch slightly. Stopping in your tracks, you step back one pace from her sudden movements.

She stops. Her smile falters slightly as she takes in your reaction. You flush in shame at yourself.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, “I didn’t—"

Stark jumps in, coming up to stand beside her and says, “Kid, this is my better half, Pepper Potts. She runs the show around here. Definition of a girlboss.”

“Girlboss?” Pepper asks with a sigh, looking over to Tony as he settles next to her. You let out a sigh of relief. Tony covered up your little moment.

“I don’t know,” he answers with a shrug, “I heard Parker say it once and it sounded good.”

“Please don’t call me that again,” she shoots back, but there’s a soft smile on her face.

She really loves him you think to yourself.

“Noted,” he says, then looks to you, “Okay, ready to head to your apartment?”

“My apartment?” You ask, slight confusion in your voice. You figured you’d be in a small room with a small bed, that kind of situation. But an entire apartment?

“After all of this, you’re blown away by the idea of an apartment? Really?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter defensively, “the word ‘compound’ kind of has a certain connotation I guess.”

“I knew we should’ve workshopped that more.”

He runs a hand through his brown hair, looking to the young man sitting behind the desk, who you’ve just now noticed.

“Boyd, write down that we need to workshop that,” Stark quips.

“I work for Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark,” he drawls with annoyance, “you write it down.”

You blink in surprise. It’s hard to believe that anyone outside of the Avengers would speak to Tony Stark like that. You look to Tony, expecting a harsh rebuke, but he only snorts with laughter.

“Shit, I always hope I’ll catch you off guard.”

“Not today, Mr. Stark.”

Tony turns back to you, saying, “Kid, this is Nathan Boyd. He’s Pep’s assistant, so by extension, he also runs the show.”

Nathan pushes up his round glasses and thankfully only waves at you, clearly understanding that you’re so not down to do the handshake thing right now.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he says with a half-smile.

“Oh, so you’ll offer help to a complete stranger but not me?” Tony asks with faux offense.

“Yep.”

“Sounds about right. Anyways kid, ready to rock and roll?”

You make yourself nod, then look to Bucky. You know you just snapped at him outside, but…you really want him to come. Tony is cool and everything, and Pepper seems nice enough, but you’re not sure about going somewhere with them yet. Everything is still too new.

“I’ll walk with you guys,” Bucky says as he meets your eyes, and then turns to Tony and Pepper, “It’s on my way to my own place anyway.”

Tony shrugs, then turns with Pepper and begins to walk down the large hallway to your right. You look up at Bucky and offer a small smile in thanks. He answers with one of his own. Then you make yourself put one foot in front of the other and follow the others.

“Stairs or elevator, kid?” Tony asks as you go.

“Stairs, please.”

Absolutely no closed spaces, thank you very much.

“Cool, gotta get that cardio in, am I right?”

He leads you all past a pair of sleek, shiny elevator doors to the stairwell door just to the right of it, and as you step in, you know you made the right choice. The corridor is narrow, but more windows open it up to the outside.

The four of you climb up to the fourth floor, Bucky’s steady presence right behind you as you try to keep up with the fast pace set by Stark and Pepper. Really just Pepper. She walks ridiculously fast for someone in stilettos.

Finally exiting the stairwell, you arrive in a quiet hallway with doors running down each side of the hall. It’s much quieter up here than it was down in the lobby, almost like the plush carpet is absorbing all the sound.

Pepper leads you down the long stretch of hallway until you arrive outside a door embossed with a golden 409. She presses her thumb to the reader on the outside, followed by a small click as the door unlocks.

“Welcome home,” she says with a smile as she looks back at you. She opens the door, stepping back to allow you to be the first one inside.

You step inside.

Your breath leaves you in the next instant.

White walls.

Blank white walls everywhere.

You try to take in the rest of the furniture to distract yourself. There’s a plush blue couch and set of chairs to your left, taking up that side of the main room. You notice a massive television taking up some of the wall space.

The white wall space.

Ignoring the violent swoop of your stomach, you turn toward the kitchen. It makes an “L” shape in the righthand corner of the room, made up of brand new silver appliances and white countertops.

More fucking white.

Swallowing hard, you skip over that and look to the far side of the room. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows take up the entire wall, no white to be found. You heave out a quiet sigh of relief and step toward it. This apartment as a view of the Hudson, and you admire the sparkle of sunlight off the dark water.

“We weren’t sure what you’d like as far as food and toiletries go,” Pepper explains as she flips on the kitchen lights, “so we got some frozen meals, stuff for sandwiches, things like that along with some popular brands for the toiletries.”

It was a good thing someone thought of those things. You were so used to dropping everything and going that you didn’t bring a whole lot, only your toothbrush and toothpaste.

“Anything you need you can order online. We have accounts with most of the popular retailers. I’ll ask Nathan to send you the information,” she finishes as she finally looks over to you.

You paste a smile on your face. It feels more like a grimace, but nothing on her own expression indicates that she can tell anything’s wrong.

“Thank you,” you say softly, and you find you truly mean it.

Nothing about this feels particularly normal. Everything that’s happened since they showed up yesterday has you feeling like a fish out of water. But you find you really mean it.

“I hope you like everything,” she replies, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

“I really do. This is definitely the nicest place I’ve ever stayed.”

She only smiles brighter. There’s no reason to tell her about how the white walls make you feel. What can she do? She didn’t know, and it’s not like she can do much about it now.

“Okay, so the bedroom is through that door on the left,” Pepper explains as she points to the door you saw earlier, “

“Set your bag down kid,” Tony snarks, “you look like you’re ready to bolt.”

Great. Of course he had to say something.

Pepper heaves an exasperated sigh, which makes you nervous, but luckily she turns it on Tony.

“She just walked in, give her a minute.”

“I’m just making a joke; I can’t make a joke?”

“You’re not joking you’re nagging—”

“I’m nagging?”

You tune out their bickering. Your gaze flits again to the walls. Biting your lip nervously, you make yourself look longer than you want to just to see if you can handle it. You’re going to have to handle it; this is your new living space.

But after just a few seconds, you have to avert your eyes. It just brings too much up. Too many painful and terrifying memories poke at the edge of your mind, and now just isn’t the fucking time for that.

Then you find yourself looking at Bucky. He’s already watching you, concern and questions filling his eyes. You look away as quickly as you can, hopefully without it seeming too suspicious. He must think you’re always on the edge of a breakdown at this point.

“Whatever,” you hear Tony say flippantly, and you force your attention back to him and Pepper. Nothing good can come from lingering on the walls.

The man looks at you again and says, “Okay, let’s talk shop. This place is huge, so you’re gonna need a tour at some point. Want to do that today?”

“No,” you say quickly, then try to cover by adding, “I mean, it’s just…it’s just been a long day.”

Tony shrugs, replying, “No skin off my back. Try not to get lost. But if you do, FRIDAY is always available to help.”

“FRIDAY?”

“The AI assistant for the Avengers. Mostly for me, but I’m good at sharing. Go ahead and introduce yourself, FRIDAY.”

You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but certainly not—

“Hello,” the disembodied voice echoes from all around you, “I’m here to help in any way I can.”

Okay, so maybe the disembodied voice would make sense, considering what she is. Still freaks you out. Still made you jump.

You kind of don’t like that she’s both nowhere and everywhere. Are they going to have her watch you? Are they going to be monitoring you?

The idea of that doesn’t sit well with you at all.

You clamp down on that line of thinking. You’re getting overwhelmed, and imagining being watched 24/7 isn’t helping in the slightest. Anything more, any new piece of information, and you might explode.

And you mean that literally. You’re particularly combustible.

Looking over to Tony, you see him watching you with a curious expression. Is that…concern? You’ve noticed that with him it’s very hard to tell.

“Okay,” he starts saying as you watch each other, “any more questions before we get out of your hair?”

“N-no,” you manage to stammer out.

And it’s true. You truly can’t think of anything. The only thing in your head right now is a constant stream of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

“Groovy, then we’ll leave you to it. Make sure you ask FRIDAY any questions that come up. She’ll know the answer. On the off-chance she doesn’t, she’ll know to contact one of us.”

Tony turns to leave, and Pepper does too after she offers you a warm smile. You turn to look at Bucky, nerves starting to twist your stomach as the true reality of the situation sets in. He gives you a little half smile, then turns to leave as well.

I’ll just insert this IV now to get you started on the medication.

The panic really starts to set in as you realize all their backs are turned to you.

You’ll just stay in here for now. The doctor should be in shortly.

The sound of a lock clicks. Or is that just in your head?

The white walls fade to black, the darkness slowly creeping in along the corners of your vision--

“Wait”, you burst out.

Your voice echoes against those empty walls. All three of them turn around to face you in surprise. You’re a little surprised yourself.

The question bouncing around in your head sounds a little childish, and maybe it is. But you won’t be able to calm down until you get the reassurance you need.

“I can…I can leave, right?”

“What do you mean?” Pepper asks with a confused look, “You just got here. Don’t you want to at least give things a chance?”

“No, I-I mean – I just –”

You try to explain. The words just won’t come. You can’t seem to get past how stupid it sounds to the logical side of your brain. Your hands start to heat up with the fight or flight of it all, and you’re so damn scared you can’t think straight.

“She wants to make sure we’re not locking her in,” Bucky murmurs quietly.

You manage to make yourself look up. As you meet his eyes, the furious heat in your fingers lessens. Bucky was able to put this fear into words when it scared you too much to do even that.

“Oh,” Tony says. His tone is soft in a way you haven’t heard before from him

He runs a hand through his hair, something you’ve noticed is a habit of his, and sighs. You don’t think the sigh is directed at you. It’s heavier than that. Almost like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

“Pep, Barnes, can we have the room?”

“That okay with you?”

It’s Bucky who asks the question. You’re not sure, but somehow…you trust Tony. He puts his foot in his mouth, but you think he means well. And it means a lot that Bucky defers to you on this.

You turn to him and offer a small smile, muttering, “It’s okay.”

He nods, then turns to go with Pepper. Tony waits until the door clicks behind them. When it does, he sighs again. This time he runs both hands over his face.

This time, you wonder if he actually is frustrated with you.

“I really am sorry, I just—”

“Kid,” he cuts you off, “you never have to apologize. Not for things like this. Clear?”

You nod nervously. You’re relieved at the reassurance, but the exhaustion and anger in his voice still throws you off. Silence fills the room as you wait for him to continue.

“Lemme show you how the locks work. I always feel better when I know how something works.”

He turns quickly back toward the front door, clearly assuming that you’ll follow. You finally set your bag down and scuttle along behind him. He opens it to the now empty hallway and waves a hand for you to come stand out there with him.

“At the Compound, we use fingerprint readers,” he explains, “much less hassle than with actual keys, and it helps reduce the security risk. Right now your door is set to Pep’s fingerprint, since she’s the one who set your apartment up. I think Boyd’s fingerprint works on it too.”

You nod, trying to keep up. It’s all more high tech than you’re used to.

“FRIDAY? You there?”

“Right here, Mr. Stark,” the AI’s voice comes through the hallway, right next to the door.

“Let’s reset the fingerprint reader and add the kid’s fingerprints.”

“Done. Miss, if you would, please place your thumb facedown on the reader for 10 seconds.”

Swallowing your nerves, you do exactly as she says. A bright line scans your thumb up and down for a few seconds, then blinks green.

“All set,” Tony confirms, “now you’re the only one who has access to your place. Wanna test it out?”

You nod, still unsure about this whole thing, but trying to trust the process. You’re not so great with the whole “trust” thing.

Tony closes the door, and you hear a faint “click” and the door locks. You assume FRIDAY’s behind that.

With shaking hands, you press your thumb to the reader. It scans for a few seconds like before, then blinks green as the door unlocks. You test the handle, finding it unlocked.

“Okay, now go inside and try to get out.”

“What?” You ask, voice as tremulous as your fingers.

“Isn’t that what you’re most worried about? Being locked in?”

“Well yeah—”

“Then let me prove to you that that’s not what we’re doing here,” he says in a rush, then adds in a quieter tone, “I promise you’ll be able to leave. You’re not a prisoner here, I promise.”

Swallowing your fear, you go inside and close the door. You decide to wait a few seconds, but in that short span, the heat begins to creep back into your hands. Before you have any more time to doubt, you reach out and fling open the door.

It opens. Your wide eyes meet Tony’s. A rush of air leaves your lungs. Your relief is overwhelming, and tears start to gather in your eyes. You turn away from Tony before he can see.

You hear the door close behind you. It seems as though he’s left, but then you hear his footsteps.

“You alright, kid?”

“Y-yeah,” you choke out, “it’s j-just a lot.”

“I get that. Do you want me to stay or do you want some space?”

“I-I think I n-need some sp-space,” you stutter.

“Say no more,” Tony says, not an ounce of judgement in his voice. You hear him turn and walk back toward the door.

You hear the door open, but just before he leaves, he adds, “You’re safe here, but if anyone or anything makes you feel unsafe, you tell me. I’ll make sure it gets fixed or goes away.”

An entirely different rush of warmth rushes into your chest, lifting you up and bringing fresh tears to your eyes. It means so much that someone is on your side and cares about how you feel. Someone who knows everything.

Silence settles over the empty room. You hate how the white walls pierce your vision no matter which way you turn.

Hoping to escape them, you quickly walk forward and grab your bag. You walk toward the room off to the left that Tony indicated earlier, only to find…

More white.

The bedroom is all white. White walls. White pillows. White comforter.

The warmth that you had just felt evaporates, replaced by a chill that settles in your bones. It drags you down until you’re sitting on the floor.

Burying your face in your hands, you cry.

***

tag list: @obsidianvibranium @dreamwritesimagines @valhalla-kristin

#comment reblog #bestie violet #bucky barnes #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x reader #reflections series

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