credits: @chalametwifee101

The last time you saw Bucky Barnes was before Hydra took you, he was all charm and easy smiles. Brooklyn’s golden boy. But the man standing in front of you now? He was a ghost of that man.

Hydra had taken everything—stripping you down, turning you into weapons. you had felt yourself disappear piece by piece, but Bucky? Hydra had hollowed him out and left behind someone you barely recognized.

Now, decades later, standing in the dim light of the Avengers compound, you felt the weight of it all crashing down.

“You’ve been quiet,” Bucky murmured, his voice low but laced with tension.

“I didn’t realize we had anything to talk about,” you replied, eyes focused on the weapon you were cleaning, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Never stopped you before.”

That made you pause. Your hands stilled, grip tightening around the cloth.

“Things were different before,” you said softly, finally looking up. You eyes met his—those same blue eyes, but colder now. Harder.

But you had learned a long time ago not to trust what you saw in his eyes. Hydra had taught you both how to lie too well.

“I’m not pretending you don’t exist, Bucky. I just…” your voice caught, barely above a whisper. “I don’t know who I’m looking at anymore.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, and for a moment, they were back in that cold Hydra cell—side by side but a thousand miles apart.

“We survived,” he finally murmured, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

“Did we?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of everything you had endured pressing down on your chest.

The silence that followed was heavy, thick with words neither of you could say. You had survived Hydra—but at what cost?

And as much as you wanted to hold on to the hatred, to keep that distance between you.

You weren’t sure your heart could. Not anymore.