Eyes Closed (Bucky x reader)
- Don’t suppose you could do a part two for I can prove it I really loved it
- Hi! I loved i can prove it! Do you think you can do a second part? Some fluff and a ton of angst?
Warnings: descriptions of torture; mention of being shot; crying
This fic can be read alone! Alternatively, you can read part one here.
Here’s part two of I Can Prove It, which I wrote for @bucky-plums-barnes‘s 8,000 followers writing challenge. I hope you enjoy! This can be read as a standalone, however if you’d like better context then I’ve linked part one above :)
Requests and tag list are open!
He had never felt such burning pain in his life. Years of beatings and torture had never come close to the agony of iron drilling into his skull as his screams became hoarse and dry. Bucky tried so hard to keep them out, to stop the pain from taking over, his mind conjuring images of the only light he could remember. This was to save her. He had to endure this so that she didn’t have to, and that was enough for him to further tighten his fists and keep the tears in his eyes from falling. The drills neared closer to his brain, threatening to pierce the flesh as a searing heat flooded his senses like fire inside his head. He could only scream, closing his eyes as if not being able to see them would stop it all.
Bucky shot up, the covers that had previously embraced him now lay crumpled on the floor as cool air crawled across his skin. It took a few deep breaths before he became accustomed to reality, the pain simmering to a dull ache. He sighed, running his metal fingers through the hair that lay matted on his head, slick with sweat; these nights had become all too familiar.
When Bucky’s memories began to return to him, he had been ecstatic. Of course, that meant the memories of those 70 years, of hurt and sadness and death; but it almost meant he could remember the years before that. He would close his eyes and see flashes of red dresses and bright city lights, of carnivals and dance halls and something of a childhood innocence. It was as if he could go back to those times and forget everything that came after. Until he remembered her.
The pictures of his youth dwindled, leaving behind the emptiness that consumed him when she entered his mind, like a film playing on repeat behind his eyelids. He couldn’t escape it; the hue of her skin, the shine of her Y/E/C eyes, the curve of her lips that he so rarely saw yet so often craved.
It didn’t hurt so much at first. When he finally remembered her, he had gone to Steve and cried with joy as he told him everything, and most importantly, realised that he could get her back. The whole team spent weeks searching for her, every known Hydra base was a possible location as they scoured any and all information they had on where she might be. If there was a possibility that Bucky could get his life back, could find happiness again, then they would do anything to make it happen.
He still remembers the day they found her.
Tony scanned the room, finding Bucky surrounded by piles of documents that were scattered around his desk. Bucky glanced up as he heard the door creak open, smiling at Tony and gathering a few of the papers in his arms. “Look, Tony! I found these old files, there’s more information on some of the Hydra bases and I think she might-“
“Buck. We found her.” Tony’s jaw clenched, although this went unnoticed by Bucky as he dropped the bundles of paper and stepped backward in shock.
“You… you found her? I can see her again? God, Tony, I… I’m gonna see her again!”
Bucky’s cheeks ached from smiling, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He was finally getting Y/N back and, maybe, things were going to be okay again.
It wasn’t until he saw the solemn glare on Tony’s face that the smile faltered, hands thoughtlessly ringing themselves together and panic running hot in his veins. “Tony? What is it? I’m gonna see her again, right?”
Tony looked down, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes and trying to keep tears from escaping his own at the sight of the broken man before him.
“I’m sorry, Buck.”
Y/N Y/L/N was dead.
He didn’t believe it at first. She couldn’t be dead, not when he needed her. He continued to search for her, locking himself in his room and sifting through the endless files that eventually began to smother him. In the end, the results were all the same. Every time he thought he’d gotten closer to finding her, alive, he was met with another documentation of her death. She had died in an attempt to escape Hydra, shot on site as she ran from the base, and it only scarred Bucky further to read those same words over and over again.
It took time, but Bucky came to accept what had happened. He no longer saw the flash of red dresses or the bright city lights when he closed his eyes. He only saw her, only saw darkness, and it consumed him.
Bucky kept his eyes cast downward, admiring the blanket of copper leaves that pathed the ground beneath his feet. He had learned to appreciate the little things in life, finding a snippet of solace in the bite of a cold autumn morning as he made his way through the park he had become so familiar with. On days like these, when the noise in his head became too loud, he liked to wander past the trees and flowers that painted the area, losing himself within the nature. Sitting on his usual bench, Bucky allowed himself to relax, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he let his emotions run free rather than pushing them away. He was startled out of his thoughts by the rustling of leaves, glancing towards the person who had sat beside him. She looked straight at him, shock shining across her features which was soon mirrored by his own. It was her. It was Y/N, sat beside him on a park bench and looking just as beautiful as he remembered her.
“I found you.”
It couldn’t be her. It couldn’t; but those eyes and that voice were so goddamn familiar that a sob ripped from Bucky’s throat as he heard her speak for the first time in years. It was so soft, so delicate, almost afraid and yet so powerful. Bucky could only choke back the tears that hadn’t yet fallen, resting his palms on her equally stained cheeks. “I don’t understand- I don’t- how are you here? You died! You died, a-and you left me and-“
Y/N simply shook her head, wiping the tears from beneath Bucky’s eyes. “I faked it, James. I made them think I was dead after they shot me. They, God, just left me there to rot, but after they went away I managed to get as far away as I could and I- I built a life for myself, Buck. I got a job, and a house, and then I saw you on the TV and I knew I had to find you. It hurt so much to be away from you.”
For the first time in months, a crooked smile broke out across Bucky’s face. After so long, after so much pain, she was here in his arms and she was okay. He hugged her, burying his face in her neck and knowing that after all this time, he wouldn’t be empty any longer, and he could close his eyes again.