You're My Mission

A hand softly shook my shoulder and I slipped out of my peaceful dream world to open my eyes. Steve was hovering over my bed, his face creased with concern.

“What?” I mumbled, wondering if I hadn’t been in such a calm sleep after all.

“It’s Bucky,” Steve whispered. My body tensed and my mind jolted into a fully aware state. As I wondered what could have possibly happened to Bucky, all sensations of drowsiness fled my body.

“What’s happened?” I questioned while sitting up. I wanted to run into the bedroom next door but I was hesitant, not wanting to make a fool of myself by being so impatient.

“You can calm down, he’s fine,” Steve said before wincing. “Well, somewhat fine… He just had a nightmare. I heard him and went in to wake him, but he doesn’t want to talk to me.” My eyebrows rose and my lips parted from surprise.

“He wants to see me?” I guessed and Steve nodded.

“He said that you could help him,” he added. Not entirely convinced that I would be more help than Bucky’s best friend, I slowly slipped out of bed and followed Steve into the hall. He gestured for me to go in through Bucky’s cracked open door. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.” I nodded and smiled my thanks before stepping inside.

As I quietly clicked the door shut behind me, I looked over at Bucky’s bed. The bedside lamp gave his skin a soft orange glow, warm compared to how cold and distant his face was. Bucky was sitting upright, propped against his pillow, and his legs stretched out before him, his hands cupping a half-empty glass of water in his lap. He was so soft and vulnerable, I almost felt like I was intruding.

“Bucky?” I whispered while taking a hesitant step forwards. His unfocused gaze shifted from the wall before him and lingered on my face instead. After a few blinks, Bucky visibly relaxed.

“Jennifer,” he breathed. I weakly smiled.

“Are you okay?” I asked, hoping to prod him into explaining why he wanted me here.

“I had a nightmare, but…” Bucky trailed off. Feeling sorry for him experiencing what was clearly a terrifying dream, I crossed the room and sat next to him on the bed. He let me sling my arm across his shoulders, resting my hand atop his metal shoulder, and then he reached out with his flesh hand to hold mine, gently lacing his fingers between my own before giving them a substantial squeeze. “I think it was a memory, not a dream.” I stiffened at his confession, hoping he hadn’t done something too horrible, something that might even be unforgivable…

“So why not tell Steve about it?”

“Because he wouldn’t understand… I know he does his best to accept that I’ve changed, that I’m a tainted version of the Bucky he once knew, but he’s always been true to who he is. You and I… we haven’t,” Bucky explained, finishing with a sigh as he loosened his grip on my hand. “We’ve been hidden in Hydra and forced to do things we don’t want to do. So I thought if I told you my memory, you would be able to help me cope with it because you know how it feels, and then I wouldn’t have to worry Steve either.”

“I can try to help,” I offered. A part of me doubted that I would be able to provide Bucky with enough comfort, but I was hopeful. “Tell me what you dreamed of.” Bucky continued to refuse to look me in the eye, and he inhaled deeply before beginning his story.

“I was being driven behind a SHIELD van in some desert, with this image of a man’s face in my mind. He was my target. I was handed a weapon and used it to blow the van’s tyre. They spun out and crashed,” Bucky described, his hand tightening on mine as he spoke. He paused and took another sip from his glass of water. “The vehicles accompanying it stopped and fired at us. I shot down agent after agent. I killed so many people, anyone who dared to stand in between me and that van… But eventually SHIELD ran out of guards and I tore open the van’s door and-” Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat. He gulped, as though trying to shoo away the next part of the story, then tried to swallow it down with more water. His hand began trembling in my palm so I gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” I coaxed softly.

“You’ll hate me,” he whispered. Even though his voice was barely audible, the tone was sharp. My stomach dropped and I pulled him in closer to my body.

“Never,” I promised. I watched Bucky’s eyes dart around the room, eyebrows crinkled with anxiety, until he decided to continue.

“The target was inside with his family… His wife leapt out at me, trying to defend her husband and children. It took me by surprise, but I quickly threw her off me and put a bullet in her brain. And then I went back to the van and… his children…” Bucky hesitated, his breathing now rapid as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the image. I held him tighter, waiting patiently for a few moments until he regained his courage. “They were in the way… I shot them too, and then killed the target. I don’t know why I killed them, I didn’t have to- They weren’t part of the mission, and I could have moved them out of the way, but- I-” Water touched my face and I glanced up, realising that Bucky was crying for the children. My heart ached for him.

I plucked the glass from his grasp and set it down on the bedside table before climbing into his lap, the mood making the action seem less sensual than it otherwise would have been. I wrapped my arms around Bucky’s torso and pulled him into a tight embrace, letting him weep on my shoulder as he loosely held me in return. Occasionally I brushed kisses against his cheek or his hair, waiting for him to finish letting his sorrow out.

“How am I supposed to forgive myself for that?” Bucky whispered hoarsely while pulling away from my neck. His head rolled backwards to lean against the wall, revealing his reddened face from his crying.

“It wasn’t really you that did that… Hydra put something in your head that made you decide to kill those people. Their deaths are on them, not you,” I justified. Bucky showed no reaction and I wondered if I was even helping. “You can avenge them. Your new mission to take down Hydra is going to help prevent other innocents from dying. You’re doing the right thing now, and you’re choosing to do the right thing, and that’s what matters.” I began to think of what else I could possibly say to soothe Bucky when he nodded.

“Thank you,” he breathed, making a smile creep onto my lips.

“You’re welcome,” I said before sliding out of his lap. “I should go back to bed.” I placed a kiss on Bucky’s forehead, then pushed away to stand and leave, feeling drowsy from being unexpectedly woken.

“Stay,” Bucky ordered while gripping my wrist. Even though his tone had been rather demanding, when I turned and saw how miserable his eyes were, I knew that he hadn’t intended to sound so harsh.

“Me coming out of your bedroom in the morning really isn’t going to help our case,” I remarked, thinking about receiving more snide comments from Natasha and raising Sam’s awareness. It had been a miracle that no one had spotted us last time.

“I don’t care,” Bucky said with a short shrug of his shoulders. He then tugged gently on my wrist and I allowed him to guide me into bed with him, our bodies easily slipping into a sweet cuddle.