Bucky stares back as the kid staggers forward, lo
Bucky stares back as the kid staggers forward, looking to him as the only thin holding her down to this reality, as she tries to hold back her sobs, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looks to him for answers, memories of when Bucky was the Winter Soldier in HYDRA raising the girl since she was thrown into his training corps at two, raising the girl while under his strict orders from the higher ups, being her protector and father when the cameras were off, when no one was watching when they were safe in his bunkroom, but acting cold, strict and emotionless when the camera’s were on…when everyone was watching…doing this on and off until her disappearance at 11, how he protected her and did for much for her back at HYDRA flooding her mind, how Bucky broke a higher up near in half after the person forced themselves into her cell with a horrible intent, how he nearly hurt half the team of scientists cause they were pushing her powers and it was nearly killing her, and he did so much more to protect her from the cruel and predatory hands of HYDRA and it’s alliances to other illegal facilities, remembering how he tore through enemy bases when she got taken from him so many times, how his angered yells echo down the corridors when I was dragged away for punishment and he was held back to not interfere, how no matter how many times they wiped the kid, he managed to get her to remember him and she did the same when they wiped him, the girl too choked up to speak as she staggers to him (add more to this scene, with a lot of details and more memories about what happened in HYDRA, and more on what Bucky did for the kid and make it longer and more fleshed out and emotional)
The flickering gaslight cast long, dancing shadows across the cobbled alleyway. Rain slicked the stones, mirroring the sheen of unshed tears on Elara’s face. At eleven, she’d been a wisp of a girl, snatched from the orphanage and thrust into the brutal crucible of HYDRA. Now, at seventeen, the fragility remained, but beneath it, a steel core pulsed with a fierce, untamed energy. She looked like a frightened bird, battered but not broken.
Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the man mythologized as a monster, stared back. His metal arm felt heavy, a stark contrast to the tremor in his human hand as he reached out. Elara stumbled, collapsing against him, the sobs finally breaking free. Her small frame shook with the force of it.
Memories, sharp and brutal, flooded Bucky’s mind. He saw her again – a tiny, terrified thing, clutching a ragged doll, her wide eyes reflecting the cold, sterile walls of her cell. He recalled the hushed, stolen moments in his cramped bunkroom. He’d brought her scraps of food, whispered stories, even attempted to teach her to read under the flickering light of a contraband bulb. He was a monster, yes, but in those stolen moments, he was her protector, her father figure.
A searing image: Elara, barely five, strapped to a table, electrodes attached to her temples. Scientists, their faces obscured by sterile masks, watched as they pushed her latent abilities to their breaking point. Her cries were stifled, but Bucky felt them in the marrow of his bones. His response was a whirlwind of destruction. He’d nearly torn the lab apart, the metal of his arm gleaming under the harsh lights, scattering terrified scientists like frightened mice. The memory of their screams, their pleas, was a jarring counterpoint to the gentle way he used to brush her hair from her face.
Another scene: a hulking HYDRA agent forcing his way into Elara’s cell. Bucky’s memories were fragmented, blurred by the conditioning, but the raw fury of that moment burned bright. The sickening crunch of bone, the ragged breath of the agent as Bucky nearly snapped him in two. He felt that sickening wave of rage again, a cold, detached violence that was yet somehow protective. It was a violation of his own programming, a raw, desperate act of defiance against the system that owned them both.
The years blurred: the endless training, the countless missions where he’d carry her, hidden in a compartment of his gear, whisking her to safety before the cameras could catch sight of her. The relentless brainwashing. The disappearances, when HYDRA would take her for “re-education,” the brutal punishments she would suffer, the chilling echoes of her cries down the corridors while his own hands were bound. The times when he’d almost break free to find her only to be met by the brutal restraining hand of his handler. The endless cycle of loss and desperate reunion.
Each time they wiped their memories, each time they tore their minds apart, a tenacious thread remained, binding them together. A fierce, unspoken promise: they would find each other again. And they always had. The memory of finding her again after a particularly brutal memory wipe was one that held a great deal of bittersweet sorrow. The terror in her eyes as she looked at him for a moment before breaking down and crying in his arms after being forced to forget him was a painful memory for Bucky to relive, but the same was true for her.
Elara’s sobs escalated into wracking gasps. She raised a hand, tracing the lines etched into his face, the scars that told a story of countless battles fought, sacrifices made. “You…you never left me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Bucky didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. He pulled her closer, the metal of his arm a cold comfort against the trembling of her body. He held her, a silent promise hanging in the air, a promise forged in the fires of hell, a promise that said, “Never again. Never again.” Their adventure now lay ahead – a journey to healing, to a future where their shared past could finally be a memory, not a weapon to be wielded against them. But it was a journey they would take together, united by the bond forged in darkness.
