Chapter 3: Bucky

How? How can I… Steve whirled around. Again?

When Wanda Maximoff bewitched Steve Roger's mind, the soldier had found himself in a ballroom celebrating the end of the war.

Steve was back in the same ballroom.

Still dressed in 1940s military attire, Steve looked around.

No one.

The last vision had included a young Peggy Carter. Is Peggy here? Steve thought excitedly.

No one.

It all felt real to Steve Rogers. He touched his face, feeling his stubble, and then ran his hands through his hair. All so real.

Steve discovered his second oddity – he was unable to move from the floor. His thoughts forced his body to move. But nothing happened. "Move your feet," Steve told himself. Nothing.

He whirled around. Astonishment covered Steve's face. Two new figures were standing before him.

The first was the original Steve Rogers. Young, small, and pale-looking.

The second was Captain America. He stood tall and smiled heroically in Steve's direction.

He looked back and forth between them, too stunned to say anything.

"Quite the puzzle," a delicate voice said.

Steve turned around. There was a table in the room. Drinking from a glass of champagne, Violet leaned back in her chair. Steve found she too was wearing 1940s garb. She wore a brown dress, a dark shade of lipstick, and her hair was curled back.

"What is this?" Steve demanded.

Violet flicked her wrist and another glass of champagne appeared on the table. A second chair appeared, too.

Steve found he could move. He sat down with Violet, still puzzled, and looked back at the other two Steves.

"Who are they?"

"You, of course," Violet said. She placed her champagne back on the table. She leaned forward, getting a better glance at the two Steves.

"Here's what we have," Violet explained, "your younger self. The you before you were Captain America. Then Captain America."

"What's the point of all of this? What is this?" Steve thought. He was growing tired of this game.

"It's not a game," Violet said in response to Steve's thoughts. He looked startled. Violet continued:

"We're in your mind, Steve. I figured this was the best way to further explain my abilities…without…you know, actual explaining."

Violet stood up from the table, placing a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder. The two looked back at the young, frail Steve and the god-like Captain America.

"We're in my mind?" Steve asked.

The woman nodded. She walked toward the two men before them.

Steve followed, eyeing the three figures suspiciously.

"When you fell asleep on the plane, I figured this was the best time to make my introduction," Violet stated, studying the young Steve's face. "I'm sitting next to you right now. We're connected. I can see and feel what's in your mind. But don't worry. I'm not poking around where I'm not wanted."

"This does feel invasive," the soldier said firmly.

Violet turned to look at Steve. "This is how I'm going to help Bucky. This example might help you too."

Turning to Captain America, Violet smiled and looked back at Steve.

"Here's the thing, Steve. You're at a crossroads. You are fighting an internal battle." She pointed at young Steve. "You don't miss him. This man, while he was a good man, was not your goal. But…you miss his life. You miss his friends and family. His time." Violet winked at Captain America playfully. "Now this guy…this is who you think you are. He is what defines you."

Captain America looked quite proud with Violet's comments. Steve narrowed his eyes at everyone in the room.

Steve and Violet seated back at the table.

Violet explained: "This is exactly what Bucky is dealing with. Once I'm in his mind, I can identify the triggers and remove them. This will undo the brainwashing."

"So it'll be like…this?" Steve asked, motioning to the other two Steves, who had disappeared.

"His may be more…active." Violet sipped at the imaginary champagne. "I didn't need to engage your subconscious much to see what your underlying issues are. I don't mean to offend. We're all fucked up, aren't we?"

Violet snapped her fingers and Steve found the scenery had changed. The ballroom had been replaced by a beach. They both sat in reclining white chairs with their toes in the sand.

They were wearing their casual clothes. Steve thought he would get hot under the sun in his leather jacket, but he felt incredibly cool and comfortable.

"Where is this?" Steve asked.

"Just a happy place," Violet sighed. The waves of the ocean crashed against one another, as if exchanging a violent greeting. Birds could be heard in the distance. "It's my happy place. It helps to get away sometimes."

"How are you going to help Bucky?"

Violet took a sip from the daiquiri that had appeared in her hand. "Same way. I'll help him face his demons. I can't completely fix bad memories. I can't take that away. But I can help with the triggers."

Steve stared off into the ocean feeling calm. "This is how you've helped others?"

She nodded. "Some are more complicated. I really just help people find their way back. PTSD is no joke. But I've never helped someone who was brainwashed. But we'll see."

She turned to Steve and Violet shrugged. "I'm sorry if it felt like I was invading your bubble back there. I just thought it best to show you."

Steve smiled for the first time since he had discovered he was back in the ballroom. "It's okay. So. What are my issues?"

Violet laughed. "Like I said, we all have issues. But what I can tell…you're still trying to find your place in the world. A solider? A super hero?" Violet shrugged and took another sip. "Maybe you're just a man trying to do good things. You are you. You're the not the same young man before the serum. You may not be the Captain America the world temporarily turned its back on before the accords. But you're trying."

"I guess that's all any of us can do."

"Steve?"

"Yes?"

"It's time to wake up."

X.X.X.X.X.

Steve's eyes shot opened. T'Challa was staring down at him, confused. Steve quickly turned and found Violet sitting up in her seat, smiling. T'Challa, realizing what transpired, sighed.

"I hope you gained helpful information, captain," T'Challa said. "We have arrived."

The plane had landed when Steve woke up. He looked around the plane and saw that its passengers were already exiting.

Steve looked back at Violet, who was gathering her hoodie and duffel bag.

"Weird," Steve stated simply, meeting Violet's gaze.

She smiled. "Welcome to my world."

X.X.X.X.X.

The plane had landed in the outskirts of the Wakandan jungle. Steve and Violet, having already visited Wakanda, were not surprised when they had to be blindfolded. They sat in a large vehicle, waiting to be transported to the facility housing Bucky Barnes.

While glad to be back in Wakanda, Violet was disappointed she could not enjoy the view of the jungle and its vast forests. She could imagine the thick greenery surrounding them all.

"Glad to be back?" Steve joked.

Violet pushed her shoulder up against Steve's playfully. "Eh. It was home for a good while. Although I wasn't allowed in the villages. I basically lived in the compound."

T'Challa's deep voice surprised the two: "We are here."

They felt the car stop and others exited the vehicle. Steve removed his blindfold and left the car. Violet hesitantly removed her blindfold and stared out the window.

The facility was gray and perfectly rectangular. The forest around the facility could easily hide its location from the air. Violet could see Wakandan scientists and doctors walk the halls through the building's windows.

X.X.X.X.X.

T'Challa led Steve and Violet down the hall in the compound. Men and women dressed in white coats nodded their heads respectfully toward T'Challa. Violet and Steve gave their bags to two men who, without a word, motioned for their belongings.

"They will take your things to your room," T'Challa explained. "I was thinking we could take an early dinner. Then a good night's rest-"

"Bucky," Violet said simply.

T'Challa sighed heavily. Steve watched the king of Wakanda carefully eye Violet.

"I believe rest is best," T'Challa whispered.

Violet smiled and touched her friend's arm. "I think a good night's rest will be best when it's over."

A man in a white coat approached T'Challa. In a language Steve did not understand, the two Wakandans spoke gently, and then the white coat-man nodded.

T'Challa explained, "They will prep Barnes."

X.X.X.X.X.

Steve felt his stomach tighten at the sight of Bucky. It had been too long since his friend had volunteered himself into a cryo-induced coma.

Men in white coats surrounded Bucky on an examining table. The table looked comfy enough.

Bucky Barnes, in his white clothes, slept peacefully, despite the IVs sticking from him to various medical equipment.

Violet and T'Challa kept their distance, allowing the doctors to carefully prep the sleeping Bucky. Violet could not see Bucky through the crowd of doctors. Steve was a large enough man to block her view, too.

"Are you sure about this?" T'Challa asked.

Violet half-laughed and shrugged. "You were the one who brought me here. I'm just here to play along."

"It's not a game."

"It never was."

Violet watched curiously as an empty examining table was brought. It was pushed next to Bucky.

Steve turned to Violet and stepped aside from Bucky. Violet carefully approached the examining table.

She had seen Bucky Barnes in photos before. She had seen pre-war Bucky, war Bucky, and the "Winter Soldier" Bucky.

Violet stood close to Bucky. She sadly stared at the missing arm with a black wrap at the end of his shoulder. She reached out and touched his chest. It was almost surprising for Violet to feel how warm the man was. She studied his face, familiarizing herself with his beard and brown hair. Hello, Handsome, Violet thought. She could feel her cheeks redden.

With her hand still on Bucky's chest, Violet closed her eyes.

Steve stood directly next to Violet, looking into her face deeply. She simply looked like she was closing her eyes, as if shielding them from the sunlight.

Violet opened her eyes. "I can sense him. Good."

"What does that mean?" Steve asked.

She turned to the solider and back at his friend on the table. "I'm not acquainted with Bucky. It may be difficult at first. But there's an opening. I can get in."

"How long?" T'Challa asked.

The woman walked to Bucky's other side. She touched his arm, feeling his muscle; her hand slid down, touching his open palm. Violet touched his fingers. She felt tough hands.

Violet entwined their fingers together. She gulped, nervously.

She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes again.

The room felt thick in silence. It was suffocating. All eyes were on Violet, the woman holding hands with an unconscious man she had never met before.

Violet looked up at T'Challa and Steve. "I'm not sure how long it will take. Just give me time. Just don't interrupt."

T'Challa motioned for the empty examining table. Violet hopped on, removing her hoodie.

She took the hair tie from her ponytail, letting her hair sit comfortable against her face.

She lied back, body parallel to Bucky. She reached over and held hands with the sleeping man.

Violet took in a deep breath. She looked at T'Challa and Steve and gave a hopeful grin.

"Please don't be worried. Like I said, I don't know how long this will take. As long as I'm in his mind, he'll sleep." Violet adjusted her head's position, trying to make herself comfortable. But there was no way to ease this task. Violet suddenly felt a great tension in her shoulders. Her anxiety was skyrocketing to the point that she had wished she had taken her pills before this. She felt nauseous. The weight of the world was on her shoulders and she was scared.

"We will be here," T'Challa said comfortingly.

Steve nodded and placed his hand down on Violet's shoulder. "Thank you," he said.

Violet nodded, smiled, and closed her eyes.

Her body appeared to go limp; it was as if she had suddenly fallen asleep to a tranquilizer.

But Violet's hand, holding Bucky's, seemed to tighten.

X.X.X.X.X.

Violet recognized she was in Brooklyn. Not today's Brooklyn, though. It was 1940s Brooklyn. It was the kind of Brooklyn she had seen in old movies.

But there were no people. No kids riding their bikes down the streets or men gambling in the alleyways. All was quiet in this 1940s Brooklyn.

She walked on Washington Street, waiting for anyone to show up. The park and buildings around were empty. She saw the Brooklyn Bridge in view and –

Violet's eyes widened and she bolted. She ran as fast as she could, feet hitting the hard pavement. She was not physically active in the real world, and being in Bucky Barnes's mind, did not make exercise any easier.

In the distance, she could see three men fighting. Each one seemed to fight one another. It was hard to tell if there was a specific target, but it was a mess.

When Violet could see what was happening, she stopped, placing herself in a safe spot.

She saw three Buckys fighting. Violet's eyes tightened, as if suddenly getting a migraine.

There was war-Bucky. The dashing and charming young man in an army uniform. He had a debonair grin on the whole time.

The Winter Solider-Bucky looked fierce; Violet had recognized him from photos.

Then there was the real Bucky. He was not in the all white attire the Wakandan doctors had dressed him in. He wore ragged jeans and a red long-sleeved shirt. His metal arm was still intact.

Violet watched fearfully as the three men fought one another. War-Bucky seemed to take turns on fighting the Winter Solider and Bucky. Bucky was doing his best to fight the other two. Winter Solider seemed mainly focused on Bucky.

Metal arms clashed and faces were nearly knocked to the ground. No one was close to falling. It was as if they were all fighting with the same fighting skill and stamina. But they were all different.

Violet was unsure of what to do. Entering a new person's mind, someone she did not meet prior, was a new experience. She was almost afraid to speak up and draw attention.

Bucky struggled. He punched war-Bucky in the face, forcing the young solider back. The Winter Solider, with a black face mask, took advantage of the opportunity. He charged at Bucky, grabbing him by the throat. Bucky winced, struggling to breathe. His own metal arm struggled to fight off the Winter Solider.

"HEY!" Violet shouted. Her face went pale when all three Buckys looked at her. It was almost funny to see war-Bucky and Bucky realize this new person on the street.

The Winter Solider, face hidden, may have looked confused. But Violet could not tell. Instead, she watched as the Winter Solider dropped Bucky and suddenly charged at her.

"Shit," Violet muttered, taking a few steps back, waiting to be tackled.

But war-Bucky came to her rescue. He grabbed the Winter Solider from behind, keeping a strong hold of him.

"Get out of here, doll!" War-Bucky said.

Violet bit her lip and ran toward the real Bucky, who was slowly getting up.

She paused before reaching Bucky, turned back to war-Bucky, and yelled, "Mind helping us get a head start?"

War-Bucky winked, smiled, and body slammed the Winter Solider into the street.

Violet nearly clumsily slammed into Bucky. But his body was strong enough to withstand her small impact. He grabbed her by the arms, looked at her confusingly, and asked, "Who are you?"

Violet grabbed his arms back and forced him into a slight jog. "Let's get out of here, first."

The two ran side by side. Bucky turned back, watching his other two selves fight each other. The Winter Solider now seemed more adamant to get to Bucky and the girl.

"Happy place happy place happy place," Violet muttered to herself, quickly getting out of breath. Bucky overheard the woman and stared incredulously at her.

The beach did not appear around them. Frustrated, Violet stopped and Bucky stopped with her.

Violet moved close to Bucky, putting her hands on his chest. Bucky seemed more alarmed by the gesture. He was unsure of trusting this person.

She looked up and desperately asked, "Think of a place. Not here. Somewhere else. You have to take us there. Just think."

Bucky's mind was racing. He felt sure he had been fighting the other two Buckys for what felt like years. Suddenly, this new person was here. A woman. And she was not making any sense."

"You have to imagine us out of here," Violet stammered, watching the other two Buckys getting closer. The Winter Soldier's body movement made it appear he was hungry for action. Violet looked up into Bucky's face. It was the first time she had seen the blue eyes.

"Bucky, please trust me," Violet begged. She clutched his chest and said, "Think of a place outside of here. Not the bridge. Not Washington Street. Hurry!"

Bucky turned. His eyes widened as he saw a metal fist nearly make contact with his face.

X.X.X.X.X.

Bucky opened his eyes. He found himself clutching the woman to his chest.

She looked up. Violet was unfamiliar with the area. But a calm swept over her face when she realized it was just herself and Bucky there. No one else was around.

Violet, realizing the closeness between her and Bucky, peeled herself off and, with an awkward grin, said, "Good job."

Bucky looked around, chest heaving with deep, anxious breaths.

"I can't believe it," Bucky whispered to himself.

Violet looked around. She saw what looked like a globe made of steel with a lot of empty space. In the distance was an empty stage with an ornate banner that said STARK INDUSTRIES.

"The Stark Expo?" Bucky asked.

Violet looked around and hugged herself, suddenly feeling a chill.

Bucky finally turned to Violet, as if he had forgotten she was there.

"Hello," Violet said, waving her hand.

"Who are you?" Bucky demanded.

"My name is Violet. I'm a friend of T'Challa's. And Steve's, I guess. He and I have just met. But umm…I'm here to help you."

Bucky cautiously eyed Violet. He pressed his lips tightly together.

"We're at the compound in Wakanda. You have just been woken up. Not all the way. I'm lying down next to you. I'm in your mind. See, I have these abilities…" Violet rolled her eyes at herself. "Listen, it's complicated. I'm complicated. But I'm here to help you."

"Help?" Bucky asked. "How?"

"Steve wants me to get rid of the triggers in your brain. To de-brainwash you."

"Can you?"

"Well, your subconscious war-Bucky seems helpful," Violet thought aloud. "He was willing to fight off the Winter Solider one for us. As long as we have some time together…I think I can." Violet thought back and cocked her head to the side. "Hey, the other one, he called me 'doll.' Is that like 'chick?'"

Bucky stared quizzically at Violet. He had many questions, and so far, no answers. He realized Violet was still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, yes. I guess. We used to call girls that." Bucky winced. "I'm sorry if I…if he…if you were offended."

Bucky's demeanor changed. At first, he was defensive, yet still concerned if Violet was going to be attacked by the other Buckys. Now, he was relaxed. He was confused, but relaxed. He looked at Violet and approached her.

Violet watched as Bucky extended his hand – the one of flesh – and Violet accepted. With their hands touching, Bucky felt a sudden electricity between their fingers. He looked down, puzzled by the sensation.

"What was that?" Bucky asked, his hand still holding Violet's.

Violet smiled gently. "In order for this to work, for there to be a connection, I have to be touching you for our minds to work together. So, in the real world, we're holding hands. The closer we get physically, here, it makes it easier for us to connect to the real world too."

"I'm dreaming?" Bucky asked.

Violet nodded.

"It all feels so…" Bucky started, but his voice trailed off.

"Real, I know," Violet added. "Probably feels like you've been here for years?"

Bucky nodded.

Violet shook Bucky's hand finally. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, Violet," Bucky smiled.

Bucky's smile faded quickly. Violet's gentle face began to squirm. She held her face in pain, palms grasping her ears.

"What is it?" Bucky asked worriedly. He held her arms, thinking holding her would help.

But in Violet's mind, the pain was immense.

Violet could feel Bucky's pain. Even with the real Bucky standing with her, holding her, she was absorbing his thoughts all too quickly. Bucky had no idea what was going on…

What the hell is this? Stop. No. Stop. Bucky's pained voice rang through her eyes. No. NO. No.

Violet tried to refocus.

Who is this girl? Why is she here? I'm dreaming. Why can't I wake up?

In addition to the voices, Violet began to see visions of Bucky's memories. She saw a young Bucky argue with a drunken man. Young Bucky took a swing from the drunken man. Then Violet watched as an older, teenage Bucky fought with a gang in alleyway. A small, blonde boy was on his side, clutching a broken nose. There was also war-Bucky, dressed in a stiff army uniform, dancing with a beautiful button-nosed brunette in a club.

The visions kept changing. She saw memories – good and bad – all hitting her in the face. She was shaking and she wanted to throw up. She felt everything – physically and mentally – tighten.

The Winter Solider…Dead bodies hit the ground. The ground kept changing. Sometimes it was pavement. Or concrete. Even sand. But dead bodies kept hitting the ground-

"Violet!" Bucky shouted.

The pain lessened. Violet's eyes shot opened. She was in tears. The man holding her had no idea she had received the fast-forward version of his life. She did not want to see it. But she could not help it. With others, Violet had found ways of blocking herself from personal experiences. But with someone new, someone like Bucky, Violet discovered she dealing with something else completely.

Bucky's jaw tightened at the sight of the woman who was practically falling apart. He was not even fully convinced she was a real girl. I could still be dreaming, he thought. Finally taking a break from fighting and dreaming of a pretty girl, for once.

Violet broke out into a sob. Bucky clutched her to his chest. She tried to speak in between sobs: "I" (sob) "am" (sob) "so" (sob) "sorrryyyy…." Her voice trailed off. She then coughed and choked out, "And" (sob) "thanks for" (sob) "thinking I'm" (sob) "pretttyyyy…"

Bucky caressed her hair. He felt this was all too inappropriate. He knew this woman for a minute and he was embracing her in a confused state.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

Violet opened her mouth, trying to breathe gently. She wiped her cheeks and took in a deep breath. "Your…your memories. They're…overwhelming. I didn't mean…I didn't mean to…"

"What can I do?" Bucky asked.

Violet gently pushed Bucky's chest away. One hand was on his waist, the other was still wiping tears away.

She looked around and pointed behind Bucky.

"Ice cream. You can get me ice cream," Violet explained, voice still thick with a tender emotion.

"Ice cream?" Bucky asked. He turned around and, to his surprise, saw an ice cream man, in classic white uniform, standing by a car. He held two cones in his hand, motioning for Bucky to get them.

"Who the hell is he?" Bucky asked.

"I brought him here," Violet asked. "Ice cream first. Then we'll get started."

X.X.X.X.X.

Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews and messages! I appreciate the feedback.