Therapy and Hot Coffee
Bucky doesn’t understand the pain of somethings, it’s not like jumping 200 feet out of plane without a chute, feeling the ache for a couple minutes after his body hits the floor. It’s not like taking a fist to the face from supersoldiers or being strapped down to a cold metal chair, steady beeping around him, people in white coats and the shock of—- nopenonotgoingthere.
The point is, he doesn’t really understand the pain of papercuts, of jamming his toe against a night stand, or having someone slap him while getting coffee, knocking the hot drink against his chest and the ringing of their words in his head.
Bucky doesn’t understand pain . It seems like a weird thing to say, a weird thing to admit considering that he is— he was—, is he still the Winter soldier? Is he Bucky? Is he James? — The Winter soldier.
Decades of torture and hurt would make it seem like a joke if Bucky said anything about it, would make someone laugh and pass it off as dark humor while Bucky sat there, lifeless and wondering if there was yet another thing wired incorrectly inside him.
So he doesn’t know why he admits it in his next therapy session. Unlike his old therapist this one is less passive aggressive and more determined. A nice woman that tells Bucky to call her Reinen but he always ends up slipping into the habit of “ma'am”
“Can you elaborate on that James?” Her legs are crossed over, she sits attentively listening across from him and there’s no clipboard or notebook. The quick writing of pen against paper, the thought that he’s messed up once again, prying it from his hands and if he doesn’t admit anything then he’ll go into a cold cell where they might—-
“James, are you with me?” His eyes drift towards her once again, getting sucked into the present and not showing anything on his face.
“There’s nothing else to say. I just don’t get it.” He shrugs, arms crossed in his lap and his heart beat slightly alleviated. At least this room doesn’t make him so anxious, with its soft pastels and potted plants.
“You said you don’t understand pain, tell me have you felt pain before? Whether it be physical or mental.” He doesn’t want to answer this question and quite frankly he should’ve kept his mouth shut, still he continues to hold eye contact.
“You know I have Doc— I just mean like—“
He can’t put it into words, can’t describe the feeling of seeing someone burn their tongue against hot coffee, seeing a little kid trip and cry from the pain of scratched knees. He huffs frustrated, eyebrows furrowed and a frown that never leaves. “Forget it” he grunts out but obviously Dr. Reinen isn’t going to let it go.
“You seem frustrated, what’s making you feel this way? Is it the topic?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know , I can’t explain it, it’s… not normal.” He breaks off and stares off at the daisies by the windowsill instead. The doctor huffs a laugh, “James look behind me will you?”
There’s a sign over her desk, mocking him, taunting him. ‘ No such thing as normal.’ At least it wasn’t one of those signs that said “Be Unique!” Bucky might have thrown himself out the window if it was.
When people say be unique, they don’t mean be a murderer slash terrorist that’s over a hundred years old.
Reinen smiles warmly at him. “James, I’m not going to try and force you to tell me anything you don’t want, but talking about things that seem..silly, frustrating, can help unravel any puzzle you have going on there, do you want to circle back?”
The clock ticks in the back.
“Yes”
She waits. The clock continues to tick.
“I can.. feel pain. But—“ he opts to just say an example than rather decipher his weird mess of thoughts.
“The other day there was an incident… or accident, I think? Or it was on purpose but for the sake of the women’s character I’m going to say it was an accident. I was getting coffee when a women.. slapped me. My coffee spilled onto me. I know it was hot, I know that people should.. I don’t know, scream? When something scalding hot pours onto them but..”
He stops unsure looking up to his therapist. He sees a flash of anger, a frown on her but she eases it away. “Go on James, it’s alright.”
“I didn’t.. I can’t remember feeling it. I did but I didn’t. I don’t know. There were blisters but I didn’t react. I just remember looking at them and… yeah.” He shrugs, cringing at his horrible description.
“Blisters? Are you alright? You did get them treated right?” She says concerned. He nods and doesn’t mention he went to the local CVS to buy burn cream, and bandages rather than go to the hospital. She sighs in relief. He hopes it’s relief. Then she sits for a moment.
“Is it possible that you felt it but thought that you shouldn’t?” It’s utterly confusing, it doesn’t make sense and it’s not answering any of his questions.
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to speak or push more knots into his head. Reinen nods in understanding, she doesn’t pry when he gets like this. Tight lipped, tension running through his shoulder. Reinen gets up from her seat and Bucky still hasn't broken the habit of tracking everyone, everything in a room.
She doesn’t mind.. he thinks. She plays some slow music that doesn’t make Bucky anxious or overwhelmed and they sit in silence. Time stretches on, until Reinen makes a small tap and a smile on her face.
“Looks like our time is up for today Mr Barnes! I look forward to our next session.” He nods, getting up from the couch and walking over to the door, hand on the knob before his therapist speaks up once again.
“James… no one deserves that you know? It’s not right, I hope people start to realize that. There are people out there that care for you.”
He doesn’t look back and holds back a self pitying laugh. He’s the— was the Winter soldier. Getting hot coffee spilled on him is the least he deserves and does anyone really care? What would his therapist say if Bucky had told her what the women said to him? Hysterical, grieving as someone pulled her away, breaking down while everyone’s eyes were on him. Whispering, watching— stop, don't think about it.
Besides the point, Can he count on one hand of people that care? His mind flits to Sam for a second before he blocks it out. They’re not friends, barely partners and sam doesn’t want all his baggage. Not to mention the danger it would put his family in.
“Sure thing Doc”