You didn’t remember much from Hydra.

Not the beginning. Not the pain. Not the experiments.

Just flashes:

Cold metal. Needles. Restraints. A voice saying, “If you stop taking this serum, your organs fail.” Another saying, “But the serum itself will break them down eventually.”

You had been made to survive — but never meant to live.

When the Avengers raided the facility, they didn’t find a soldier. They found you — strapped to a surgical table, skin pale, wires hooked into your veins like roots feeding a dying tree.

Bucky froze when he saw you.

Maybe because he recognized the look in your eyes — the same emptiness Hydra carved into him. Or maybe because you whispered his name before you even knew who he was.

They got you out.

But they were too late to undo what Hydra did.

⸻

Weeks Later — Avengers Compound

Bucky stood in the doorway of the medbay, arms crossed, jaw tight as he watched you sit on the hospital bed with a small vial in your hand.

Hydra’s serum.

The last thing you wanted. The only thing keeping you breathing.

Your fingers shook so badly the vial almost slipped.

“Don’t take it yet,” Bucky said quietly.

You looked up. Your voice cracked.

“If I don’t take it, everything shuts down. Dr. Cho said I won’t last an hour.”

Bucky stepped closer, metal hand curling into a fist.

“And if you do take it…” he muttered, “it eats at your nerves, your liver, your heart. Hydra built it to keep you alive but never free.”

A tear hit the floor before you even realized you were crying.

“So what am I supposed to do?” you whispered. “Live… or die? Hydra really made it so I can’t choose either.”

Bucky’s breath trembled — something he almost never let happen.

He sat beside you slowly, like he was scared he’d break you by accident.

“They did the same thing to me,” he said quietly. “Not the serum — but the way they made life feel like a punishment.”

You looked at him, eyes tired.

“How did you survive it?”

He hesitated.

Then his hand found yours — warm, steady, grounding.

“I didn’t,” he said honestly. “Not alone.”

You blinked.

His voice softened. “But you’re not alone anymore either. And as long as I’m here, Hydra doesn’t get to decide what happens to you.”

Your throat tightened.

“Bucky… what if I don’t make it? What if the serum kills me first?”

He shook his head slowly, squeezing your hand.

“Then we find another way before that happens. I promise you — you’re not dying in a world where Hydra gets the last word.”

You looked down at the vial again.

It was poison. It was survival. It was the thing Hydra used to own you.

Your hand still shook — but Bucky’s didn’t.

He wrapped his fingers around yours, holding the vial steady.

“You won’t face this alone,” he said. “Not ever again.”

And for the first time since Hydra, your breath didn’t hurt quite as much.