Bluewater (Bucky Barnes x Reader) (1/?)

Summary; Bucky Barnes has been placed in the Mental Hospital for a year now, after the EU elected that he needed the medical attention. After a change of place in the Hospital he meets new residents of the Hospital, that which includes (Y/N), who believes she’s an Empath.

(A/N)- Don’t own Marvel, but I do own this story. I don’t know how long this will be. Enjoy!

Bluewater Behavioral Hospital is one of the more dreary parts of the city. It’s hidden, secluded, and anyone who visits the building is sure it is haunted. The residents of the hospital would agree-it is haunted. Not by ghosts, or demons, nor mythical creatures of any sort, but rather, a species that dawned baggy sweatpants, sweaters, unsupported slippers, and name tags with their names etched into the silver piece. Bluewater Behavioral Hospital is littered with the insane, the misunderstood, and the people who know better then to wonder the bustling streets of New York City.

It is easy to tell who’s normal-in for a possible eating disorder, depression, families who can’t take care of them-they wear white sweaters. It is safe to be near them, and often comforting, they have humanity.

The people who wear black-there are a handfull- are not friendly. Aggressive, cold, some were flat out murders. That is where James Buchanan Barnes falls, in the same group of people who attack innocent people for their own enjoyment. His black shirt, always covering the metal arm everyone knows he has, deterred people away from him. At first, he was glad, no one bothered him, but then the loneliness and need for human contact came back to him, the same way it would have in his time. His actual time. Not the twenty-first century.

“Take these.” The woman who comes to his room everyday handed him the familiar two fat pills. The woman never told him what they are for, she wasn’t allowed to answer the question, but he always asked.

“And they are for…?” He trails off, swirling the meds in the bottom of the paper cup. His eyes wander to hers.



“I can’t answer that.” She says. Rolling his eyes, he opens his mouth to toss back the pills, swallowing them hard, and drinking the water the woman handed him. Her expression was stiff for a moment, before her eyes went wide, and she snapped her fingers. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Bucky flinched, his skin prickled with goosebumps. “You are getting moved to Ward Three, tomorrow.”

There are five wards in the hospital; Five is for people who will never leave the hospital, four is for people like Bucky. Three is for people that are healing, people who have the chance of getting out of Bluewater, two was for visits with a doctor without living here, and one was offices.

Why am I moving to Three, Bucky thought, I’m still the same as I was when I got here.

“How?” Bucky says. The woman quirks an eyebrow, her mouth twitching. Does she think he should stay?

“Well,” She takes the empty cups from his hands. “you’re getting better, James.” She turns then, not saying anymore, and slides the card on the device that unlocks the door, and exits the dull room.

The next morning, after minimal sleep, Bucky woke up to the loud alarm next to his bed blaring. The thought of moving to Ward Three still circling in his mind. A change of clothes, a Black sweater to a white sweater, stops him as he looks through his wardrobe. The staff must have switched the colors while he was asleep.

Ward Three from Four? White from Black? How did everything change so quickly? When he was brought in, the EU, voted to have him placed forever in a Hospital, thanks to Steve though, they were convinced to place him only in temporary care, though it was to be a long stay. Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, he knew this would happen eventually, just not so soon. A year seems so short for someone who was an assassin to be in constant care. Maybe the hospital wants rid of him. Maybe they no longer have time to watch him all day.

Changing into his new clothes, and following the strict morning business he’s ordered to follow, Bucky waits as the guard and nurse come to remove him from Ward Four, and place him into his new room. When they do come, it is the same woman who brings him his pills, and a guard he’s seen wander past his door a couple of times.

The gloomy colors of Ward Four disappear as he enters through the next Wards doors. Light blue and pink shades coat the walls, white tiled floors, windows letting in natural light. It’s a world Bucky hasn’t seen in quite some time, and it feels as if a weight he wasn’t aware that was there is lifted from his shoulders. The new surroundings are clean-cut, bright, and visibly hold a chance of maybe, one day, no longer needing the hospital.

The room he is met with has windows, a luxury which was not present in his previous room, a larger bed, and a television, another new privilege. The interior resembles that of an actual room. It is there to comfort him, as opposed to confining him, which Bucky has become so use to.

“The common room is just down the hall,” The woman said, her voice sounding much more relaxed then before. “You will eat there. Your therapy sessions will take place in this Ward now, with a new doctor.” She says. Bucky nods, eyes still scanning his new room. The guard takes his leave, the sound of his boots pounding against the polished floor is the only thing similar to Ward Four. Bucky could hear whenever the guard walked by his room, it reminded him he wasn’t alone.

“What is the doctors name?” Bucky asks. He silently takes a seat on his bed, the white sheets wrinkling up.

“Dr. Hale. He will also hold the Therapy Group.” The woman replies quickly.

“Therapy Group?”

“You will meet new people there.” She says, handing him another cup of pills and water. “You’ll be fine, no one judges.” Bucky once again downs both water and pills.

“Can you tell me what these are for, now?” He says in a quizzical and mischievous tone. The woman huffs, but nonetheless, smiles.

“No. You can ask your doctor that now, though.” Bucky still was not entirely sure why they wouldn’t tell him what the medications are for, but he oddly placed faith in the doctors whom he doesn’t know the names of, to give him pills that help him. They seemed to be working.

Another day ended and began, though the schedule was different now. Wake up, change, go to the common room for breakfast, therapy, lunch, group meeting, back to his room, dinner, bedtime. A new concept that Bucky was willing to try.

Therapy with Dr. Hale was informative- Bucky was on anti-depressants, and the other pill was vitamins that are essential for his super solider immune system. Then, Therapy Group.

A mix of people occupied the group; An older woman, Beth, a young girl, Jess, a man, Alex, and an older man, who is the most intimidating of them, Brutus. Half way through the grouping, a woman, out of breath, hair whipped in every direction, burst through the door. The group seemed relieved, they had been waiting for, if Bucky was to guess.

Dr. Hale said, “(Y/N), you made it.” She smiled a bright and beautiful smile. “Come join us.”

With silent, yet labored breaths, she moved to take the seat next to Bucky.