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"Hey Bucky…"
As soon as Bucky heard Steve's voice and saw him standing outside his cell, a distant, foggy memory flickered to life in his mind…
[Flashback/Late 1920's]
In the gritty streets of New York City, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes was just a boy, navigating the crowded, unforgiving neighborhoods with the instincts of a street-smart kid who'd seen more than his fair share over the years.
Bucky was walking home from school, his worn-out shoes slapping against the cobblestones as he made his way through a narrow alley. It was a path he often took to avoid the more crowded streets, where the hustle and bustle of daily life could be overwhelming.
As he turned a corner, the sound of a scuffle and shouting drew his attention. "?"
Curious and cautious, Bucky crept closer, peeking around a green dumpster. What he saw made his blood boil. A small, skinny boy was surrounded by a group of older, bigger kids, bullies who seemed to find joy in tormenting someone smaller and weaker than themselves.
The boy was tiny, his frame almost skeletal. He looked like he could be knocked over by a strong breeze, and yet, he stood his ground, his fists clenched tightly, his face set in a defiant scowl.
It was clear from the way he moved that this wasn't the first time he'd faced these bullies. His clothes were shabby, his knuckles bruised and bloodied, and there was a faint line of blood trickling down from a cut on his lip.
"Come on, Rogers, just hand over the money and we'll let you go," one of the bullies sneered, his voice filled with mockery. "You don't have to make this harder on yourself."
But the boy—Steve—refused to back down. "No," he said stubbornly, his voice steady despite the fear that flickered in his eyes. "I'm not giving you anything."
They all laughed, a cruel sound that echoed off the brick walls of the alley. They knew they had the upper hand. Steve was tiny, frail-looking, and outnumbered. But he didn't seem to care. He stood there, fists raised, ready to fight them off, even though it was clear he didn't stand a chance.
One of the bullies stepped forward, shoving Steve hard. He stumbled back, nearly falling, but he caught himself, straightening up again almost immediately. He raised his fists once more, determined not to show any sign of weakness.
"Why do you even bother, Rogers?" another taunted. "We do this every day, and you still haven't learned your lesson."
Steve didn't reply. He just glared at them, his blue eyes blazing with a fire that seemed out of place in such a small, skinny kid. The bullies continued to taunt him, their laughter growing louder as they took turns hitting him, knocking him down again and again.
But every time Steve hit the ground, he got back up, raising his fists once more, his resolve unwavering. He refused to stay down, even as his body ached, his limbs growing weaker with each blow. He couldn't win this fight, but he wasn't going to give up.
Bucky watched from his hiding spot, his emotions a whirlwind of anger and frustration. He wasn't the type to get involved in other people's business—especially not fights he had no stake in—but there was something about this kid. Something in the way he refused to give up, even when the odds were stacked against him. It sparked something in Bucky, a mixture of admiration and anger.
'Damn it,' Bucky thought, gritting his teeth. He knew he should just keep walking, let the kid fend for himself. But every time Steve got knocked down, only to stand back up again, Bucky felt a surge of irritation and something else, something deeper.
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't like seeing someone being tormented like that, especially someone who was so clearly outmatched but still fought with everything he had. He stepped out from behind the dumpster, his eyes locked on the scene before him.
He wasn't an idiot—he knew he couldn't take on all of them at once. But that didn't mean he was going to just stand by and watch. He moved quickly and quietly, slipping up behind the closest bully. With a swift motion, he swung his fist, landing a solid punch to the side of the bully's head. The kid went down hard, hitting the ground with a surprised grunt.
Before the others could react, Bucky was already moving to the next target. He caught another bully in the nose with a sharp jab, the sound of breaking bone filling the alleyway as the bully cried out in pain, clutching his face. "Argh! My nose!" He screamed.
For a moment, there was a stunned silence as everyone processed what had just happened. "…"
Steve, who had been picking himself up off the ground, stared in shock at the boy who had come to his rescue. He didn't know this kid, had never seen him before, but here he was, taking on two of his tormentors with ease.
There were only a few more left, but Bucky's element of surprise was gone. They all turned to him, their faces twisted with anger.
Steve, still struggling to get to his feet, watched with a mixture of fear and awe as Bucky stood his ground. He knew this kid—whoever he was—didn't stand a chance against the rest of them. But he was fighting anyway, just like Steve had.
Summoning what little strength he had left, Steve limped over to stand in front of Bucky, raising his fists once more. "Thanks for the help," he said quietly, his voice a bit shaky. "But you should go. I'll hold them off for you."
The other kids laughed at that, their jeers echoing off the alley walls. "You? Hold us off? That's hilarious, Rogers."
Bucky glanced down at the small, scrawny kid standing before him, still defiant despite the odds. He couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for Steve's courage. A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Kid, you're really something, you know that?" Bucky said with a smirk. "But if you think I'm leaving you to deal with these jerks by yourself, you're crazy."
Steve looked up at Bucky, surprise flickering in his eyes. No one had ever stood up for him like this before.
Bucky stepped up beside Steve, raising his own fists. "Let's show these guys they picked the wrong day to mess with us," he said, his voice filled with determination.
The bullies, now thoroughly annoyed, charged at them. Bucky fought with everything he had, dodging and countering their attacks. Steve did his best to keep up, throwing punches whenever he could, but it was clear he was outmatched.
The fight didn't last long. The remaining bullies, enraged by Bucky's interference, came at them with renewed vigor. Despite their best efforts, both Steve and Bucky were soon overwhelmed, the two of them beaten down by the sheer numbers against them.
When it was over, the kids walked away, laughing and joking amongst themselves, leaving Steve and Bucky sprawled out on the ground, covered in cuts and bruises.
For a moment, they just lay there, catching their breath. Then, Bucky turned his head to look at Steve, a grin on his face despite the pain. "I'm Bucky," he said, his voice a little strained.
"Steve," the smaller boy replied, his voice weak but steady. "Steve Rogers."
Bucky nodded, wincing as he sat up. "Well, Steve Rogers, you wanna come over to my house for dinner? My mom's making stew tonight, and it's pretty good."
Steve blinked, surprised by the offer. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said, a small smile forming on his lips. "But you might have to give me a minute. I don't think I can get up just yet."
Bucky laughed, the sound light and carefree despite the pain. He pulled himself to his feet, then reached down, offering Steve his hand. "Come on, I got you."
Steve hesitated for a moment, then took Bucky's hand, allowing himself to be pulled up. Together, the two boys limped out of the alleyway, side by side, a bond forming between them that would last a lifetime.
[Flashback End]
Sat in his cell, Bucky's eyes remained fixed on Steve, a flicker of recognition shining through the dullness that had consumed his gaze for so long. He stared at Steve, and after a few moments, his lips parted, his voice a strained whisper as he muttered, "Steve…?"
Steve's heart swelled with a surge of hope and joy, a smile breaking across his face. Despite everything Bucky had been through—all the brainwashing, the torture, the years of being used as a weapon—he remembered. Even if it was just a small part of him, he remembered.
"That's right, Buck," Steve said, his voice warm with encouragement. "It's me. It's Steve. I'm here."
Peggy stood beside him, her eyes softening with relief and happiness for Steve. She knew how much this moment meant to him. Seeing his best friend recognize him after everything was a glimmer of hope they had been desperately waiting for.
Xavier smiled softly, seeing this as a significant step in the right direction for Bucky's recovery. "This is good," he murmured, mostly to himself but loud enough for those near to hear. "It's a start."
Peter, standing in the back, watched the scene unfold with a mixture of interest and relief. He was genuinely happy for Steve and Bucky. He knew just how hard it had been for Steve to reach this point in the movies, the long, painful journey they both had to endure. But here, in this universe, Peter had intervened, hoping to ease that pain, and it seemed to be paying off—at least, for now.
However, the moment of hope was suddenly shattered. Suddenly, Bucky's face twisted in pain, his eyes squeezing shut as his hands shot up to clutch his head. He let out a scream, raw and anguished, his body collapsing to the floor as he writhed in agony.
Steve's smile vanished in an instant, replaced by a look of pure panic. "Bucky!" he shouted, rushing to the cell door. He grabbed the bars, pulling with all his strength, but the door didn't budge. The cell had been specifically designed to contain individuals with enhanced strength; no matter how much Steve pulled, it wouldn't open.
"Bucky, hold on!" Steve yelled, desperation in his voice as he tugged at the door. He glanced back at Peter, his eyes pleading. "Peter, open the—"
"Relax, I'm on it." Peter didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, moving to the control panel next to the cell. His fingers danced over the controls, and with a soft hiss, the cell door slid open.
Steve didn't waste a second. He rushed inside, dropping to his knees beside Bucky, who was still screaming, his face contorted in pain. "Bucky, it's okay, I'm here," Steve said, trying to calm him. "It's me, Steve. You're safe now."
But before Steve could do anything else, Bucky's eyes snapped open. They were wild, filled with a terrifying intensity that hadn't been there before. "!"
With a sudden burst of strength, Bucky lashed out with his one remaining arm, landing a powerful punch squarely on Steve's chest.
Steve was sent flying out of the cell, crashing into the hallway wall with a heavy thud. He slid down the wall, a pained grunt escaping his lips as he tried to catch his breath.
"Steve!" Peggy shouted, her voice filled with worry as she rushed over to him. She knelt beside him, her hands gently checking him over for injuries. "Are you okay?"
Steve nodded, grimacing as he pushed himself up. "Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered, his gaze already shifting back to Bucky. "He's just a lot stronger than I remember…"
Meanwhile, Bucky had staggered to his feet, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His eyes seemingly glazed over, as if he were no longer in control of his actions. He moved towards the cell door, clearly intent on escaping.
But before he could cross the threshold, Peter raised his hand, and Bucky was lifted off the ground and hurled backward, crashing into the back wall of his cell with a loud thud.
"?!" Bucky's eyes widened as he was pinned in place by an invisible force.
"Where do you think you're going?"
A/N: 2106 words :)
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