Tough Love

*I Started Writing This Before Civil War Came Out*

After finding Bucky in an abandoned warehouse with his arm stuck in a machine, Sam and Steve take him to Tony to get his arm fixed up. Almost immediately, the realize that fixing Bucky is going to be harder than they expected. He doesn't know who he is, can't do anything for himself, and barely talks. He see's Steve as his handler, which isn't how Steve wants to be seen.
Bucky slowly learns to trust Steve, talking more, and, eventually, he learns to love.


Bucky is super fucked up and Steve just wants what's best for him.
(Cover art belongs to its owners, and cover made on the Moldiv app)

*Battle of the Fandoms Comics Entry*


3. Chapter Two

Steve's POV


We pulled into the garage that led straight to the lab where Tony was waiting.

"What's going on?" he asked the moment I stepped out of the car. I ignored him and opened the door to the back seat. Tony followed me and as I pulled the blanket back, his eyes widened.

"Is that-," he started but I cut him off.


"What's wrong with him?" Tony asked and Sam answered this time, and he looked pretty proud of himself.

"I shot a clip full of tranque darts into him."

Tony's eyes widened once again and he looked at me. "Couldn't that kill him?"

"We hope not," I said and Sam started walking towards the steps.

"Well you two seem to have everything under control, and I'm hungry, so I'll be back with snacks." We nodded and he left.

I took the blanket off Bucky and threw it on the top of the car. I pulled his legs until most of his body was off the seats. I grabbed his around his waist and tossed him over my shoulder.

Tony had run off to clear somethings off, muttering something like, "Well if you would've told me you were bringing him here, I could've had the right things prepared." I just ignored him.

He directed me towards a metal chair that I sat Bucky down in, before pulling out a pair of scissors and cutting off the soldier's red sweater. We pulled it off over his arms and I rested his back carefully onto the metal chair once again.

The cold must have woken him up because once his back touched the surface of the chair, his eyes flew open and he sat up.

His instincts took over and he let out a cry as he shoved Tony across the room with his metal arm.

I quickly reached over him, holding his shoulders down and getting in his face.

"Bucky, I need you to calm down," I said as nicely as I could under the stress. He struggled beneath me, not listening. "Calm down, that's an order."

His body froze and stiffened almost immediately. He allowed me to push his shoulders back, flinching softly as his body hit the cold metal once more, but he didn't say anything.

"You okay?" I asked Tony who was getting up from where he was thrown.

He nodded. "Yeah, nothing a little aspirin or a quick trip to the emergency room couldn't fix."

I took that as a 'cleared for duty,' and I moved my hands off of Bucky's shoulders.

"Tony here is going to work on your arm and hopefully make it stop hurting. Is that okay?" I asked and the soldier nodded after a second. He moved his arm, it making loud clicks as the plates on it rippled, and set it onto the metal arm of the chair.

Tony went right to work, staring at the arm with fascination and doing god knows what to it.

I watched Bucky as he sat there, void of all emotions, staring that the wall in front of him.

Every once in a while he would flinch in pain and I'd slap Tony who would glare at me and say, "I'm being as gentle as I can," before going back to work on the arm.

Not long later, Sam came back down with a plate full of sandwiches and one in his hand that he was already eating.

"A little help?" He called from the other side of the glass door. I quickly walked over and opened it and when I turned back around, I saw that Bucky wasn't staring at the wall anymore. His eyes were focused on me as I moved back towards him, holding two sandwiches.

As I offered him one, he looked confused and shook his head.

"What's wrong?" I asked and he shook his head again, muttering something. "Can you please speak up, Buck? I can't hear you," I asked softly.

"I.V." That shocked all of us.

"They fed you through an I.V.?" Sam asked as he neared and Bucky nodded. Tony walked away and came back a minute later with an I.V. hanging on its stand. Sam and I gave him weird looks because, well, who just has I.V.'s?

"Don't ask," he said and he brought it around to Bucky's right side and got everything set up. "I'm going to poke your arm now, alright?" Tony asked and surprisingly, Bucky looked at me. I nodded in encouragement, making Bucky nod too.

"Alright," he said softly and Tony pushed the needle into one of the veins in the soldier's right forearm. He didn't flinch or make any sound, he just stared at me and I gave him a small smile. When I took a bite of my sandwich, his focus switched back to the wall.

After a little while, Sam pulled me away. We stood about ten feet from the chair, talking about what to do next as Tony worked on Bucky's arm.

"It's not like you can just take him to your apartment in Brooklyn!" Sam argued but I shook my head.

"Why not? It's safe there."

"No, it's not. He's been all over the news with the highway attack not that long ago. Someone would be bound to notice him. Anyways, don't forget the fact that he's an assassin who works for Hydra!" Sam whispered angrily, trying to stay quiet so that Bucky couldn't hear us, but I had a feeling he could.

"I'll make him wear a jacket to cover up his arm and we'll do something about his hair. I'll make sure he doesn't kill anyone, but if Hydra comes to collect him, I'll probably let him take some of them out."

Sam just shook head, knowing I wasn't going to give up, but still trying to convince me otherwise. "That's a terrible idea. SHEILD will find out and take him in because they think he's a threat."

"SHEILD thinks he died in the Helicarrier crash," I pointed out.

"Well when they see him walking around Brooklyn, they might just change their minds."

I sighed. "Then we'll stay hidden for a few weeks until we get everything cleared with them. I'm sure if Fury or Hill came and spoke with him, everything will be fine."

"He shot Fury," Sam deadpanned.

"Then Hill, or Natasha," I suggested.

"What if he's still in Hydra's pocket?" Sam countered, trying to make me see 'reason.'

"What if he's not?" Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead before speaking.

"Where would we stay?" He asked, giving up. Tony joined the conversation.

"You can stay here. It's not like I actually live here." We gave him confused looks. "Oh don't look at me like that. It's not like you guys are actually staying quiet. I could hear everything you've said."

We walked back over to Tony who was taking a break and eating a sandwich. I grabbed another one for myself.

"We can stay here?" I asked and he nodded.

"So long as you don't throw any ragers, it's fine, and if you do want to throw a huge-ass party, just make sure to invite me."

The three of us spent the next hour talking and eating as Tony continued to work on Bucky's arm, who was staring at the wall in front of us without moving.

"Done!" Tony announced and we all moved away from the soldier who was looking at the billionaire. "Go on, stand up and tell me how it feels."

Bucky did as he was told, ripping the needle out of his flesh arm and standing up. He stretched, moving his metal arm in different ways, testing all angels. The arm made noise as it moved, but Bucky didn't seem to notice it, so it must have done that normally.

"It feels good. Thank you," Bucky said in a soft voice and Tony smiled.

"No problem. Anytime you need me to work on it, just let me know," Tony said as he started walking away and he tossed me a key that I caught easily. "I should get going. Pepper is probably worried about me, seeing as I disappeared in the middle of a meeting without telling her where I was going. So, bye, I'll check in on you guys in a few days. Try not to break anything."

Before we had the chance to say goodbye, Tony walked into a suit that was standing there waiting for him and he flew off.

"Show off," Sam muttered as he walked towards the glass door. I motioned for Bucky to follow me and we went up to the main level.

I went and sat on the couch as Sam kept walking up the next flight of stairs.

"Where are you going?" I asked as Bucky came to a stop in front me, unsure of where to go or what to do.

"To bed!" Sam called.

"It's only seven," I joked.

"It's been a stressful day," he responded and I heard a door shut, ending our conversation.

I looked at Bucky who was standing in front of me. He had his hands behind his back and his feet were shoulder length apart. He was standing at ease and was still shirtless.

"Come sit," I told him and patted the couch. He sat down a little ways away, not too far but not as close as a normal person would've. I turned to face him.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked softly and Bucky nodded.

"You're my mission," he said and then tensed up and shook his head. "No, you're Steve."

I smiled. So he does remember me. Well, he remembers my name at least.

"Do you know who you are?"

"Winter," he said before shaking his head. "No, Asset." He started shaking his head harshly. "Soldier." He brought his hands to his head and started pulling at his hair, whining in fruition as he whispered "No, no, no, no," over and over again.

I move closer to him, carefully moving his hands from his hair so he wouldn't rip any out.

"Bucky, I need you to stop. You're going to hurt yourself." His head snapped up at my words.

"Bucky," he said and I smiled. "Bucky," he repeated, wanting me to confirm it.

"Yes, your name is Bucky," I said, letting go of his hands. One was cold and metal, the other was warm and normal.

He smiled softly, making my heart melt. I hadn't seen that smile in over 70 years, and boy did I miss it. It wasn't like I used to pay attention to Bucky's smile in the Forties, it's just that when someone smiles, it means that they're happy, and if the Bucky that was sitting in front of me was even the slightest bit happy, I was ecstatic. Then he yawned.

"Are you tired?" he nodded. "Okay, follow me." I stood up from the couch and walked up the stairs. I had to check behind me a few times to make sure that he was actually following me because he was so quiet. It was like he was walking on pillows.

As we entered one of the many bedrooms, Bucky looked around skeptically and he fidgeted. His hand went to his back, almost like he was grabbing a gun, but he didn't have anything. Sam and I had taken the few guns, knives and bombs that we had found on him. To be honest, it was an impressive amount that had been concealed in civilian clothes. Not to mention the obscene amount that was in his backpack.

"Don't worry," I told him, "no one's going to attack you while you're here. You have no need for any weapons. You're safe with me around. I'll protect you." He nodded and headed to the bed like I directed him to.

He looked confused as he neared it, almost like he didn't know what to do. That when I realized he didn't know what to do.

I walked over by him and pulled back the covers. "Just lay down under here. If you have to go to the bathroom or shower or something, it's right through there," I pointed to the door leading to the bathroom. "If you need me, I'll be in the room next door." I pointed towards the wall on the right, "Okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

I smiled and headed towards the door. "Good night."

He didn't respond but as I closed the door, I could've sworn I heard him say, 'thank you,' but I wasn't sure.

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