Chapter 9
Bucky takes a good look around his bedroom. This place brings back so many memories for him, most of them good if he’s going to be honest with himself. He has to give Steve that, joining the Avengers and coming to live in the Tower was the best decision he has ever made. Here he found a purpose in life, a way to somehow redeem himself by trying and doing some good. He found friends, set his relationship with Stark onto a better path, the same with Nat…
He met you.
And he also met Anna.
Not willing to give the doubts threatening to bubble in his head a moment’s thought, he resumes packing up his bag. He has to do it. It’s the right decision. For all of you. Nothing else matters, not even the tug in his heart whenever he thinks of the look on your face when he told you he didn’t want to love you anymore…
A soft knock on the front door catches his attention, “Come in.” he says, grabbing a handful of socks from the drawer.
“Hey, there.”
“Hi,” Bucky smiles back at Anna when she walks into the room sporting a wide grin on her face. He loves seeing her that happy.
“Wanted to see if you needed any help?” Anna places her hand on the small of his back, “Is that all?” She asks, surprised, looking at the opened bag slouched on his bed.
“Pretty much.” He drops the socks inside the piece of luggage, before zipping it up, “I have everything else in the new place.” He sits on the end of the bed.
Anna follows him shortly, positioning herself by his side. She takes his hand into hers and enlaces their fingers together, “Good. I can’t wait to finally see your new apartment.”
He smiles tightly at her before adding, “Oh,I’ve talked to Steve already, he agreed on the time off.”
She chuckles and bumps her shoulder into his, “I have yet to see Steve denying you anything.”
He laughs quietly and gives her a wink.
“How did it go?” She asks in a more serious tone.
Bucky sighs, looking down at their joined hands. She doesn’t need to specify what she is asking about.
“Mostly well, I guess.” He shrugs, “There was a lot of honesty from both ends, at least.”
“I’m glad.” She uses her fingers to tilt his chin up and turn his face to hers again. A line forms between her eyebrows when their eyes meet, “Are you ok?”
“We kissed.” Bucky ignores her question in favor to let the information out of his chest.
“Oh…” Her smiles drops and she lets her hand fall on her lap.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hating the momentary flicker of sadness in her expression.
“No,” Anna shakes her head, “It’s ok. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting it to happen.” Her lips press together, “I’m glad you told me, though.” She squeezes his hand.
“She said something that stuck in my head.”
“And what was that?”
“She said I will break your heart.” His voice comes out strained as he gives her a pleading look, “Will I, Anna? Will I break your heart?”
Bucky watches as she gets up and moves to sit on his lap, letting her legs fall to the side. He sure hopes he’s been able to conceal how his muscles went abruptly rigid. This kind of affection still seems odd coming from Anna. Or from any other woman who isn’t you, he suspects. But he knows time would change his feelings. It has to.
If she notices anything, she doesn’t let it show.
“We talked about this last night. I’m getting into this knowing exactly how you feel.” She wraps an arm around his neck, “You’re not making a fool of me, Buck. All I know is I love you so much and for so long…” She gently caresses his cheek, “I’m willing to try. There’s no deal breaker for me when it comes to you, remember that. Besides, I know you so well… You would never purposely hurt me.”
“Never…” He promptly answers, holding her waist in a tight grasp.
It doesn’t feel so odd anymore when she smiles and leans in, placing her lips on his.
~~~
The first 36 hours after your last talk with Bucky were spent inside your room, behind a locked door. While you stared at the diamond he had left with you, every single word that had been said replaying in your mind.
When you came back, you understood you wanted nothing else but to love him, to give yourself wholly to him, you also knew, no matter how heartbreaking it would be, the chances of him not wanting you back were high. That Bucky might’ve moved on from you in the two years you spent apart.
But nothing had prepared you for hearing his confession of love then hearing him say he didn’t want it anymore, that he didn’t want to love you because your love was a bad thing. But of course it made sense. You’re the one who turned that love into a bad thing. This was all on you.
From inside the fort of blankets on your bed, you heard the callings, the pleas for you to come out alternating from Steve, Nat, Wanda…
It turns out that recognizing you need help is easier than actually going to find it.
You expected Steve or Nat, but to your surprise it was Wanda who knocked the door down. She dragged you into the shower, combed your hair, filled your stomach up with some soup…. You could see a lot of Clint into her behavior and it inspired a glimpse of warmth in your damaged heart. She was the one who found the list of therapists inside the pocket of your jeans and scheduled the first appointment.
It wasn’t easy to get to where you stand now: sticking to one psychiatrist, attending sessions regularly, talking about stuff you didn’t talk about with anyone else, taking the meds… You went through three or four professionals in a period of less than two weeks and some yelling from your friends before you stuck to Heloise Baker.
She’s the psychiatrist you’ve been seeing for the past two months, since the last time you saw Bucky. A middle aged woman, something around 5’2, with long hair that she always keeps styled in a tight bun, whose solemnity contrasts her blue highlights and loose fitted t-shirts, jeans, colored crocs and the mouth full of sass she sports on a daily basis.
You suspect that what made her different is the fact that she never puts up with your shit. While the first few therapists tried to sugar coat your flaws and tell you sweet words of encouragement, Heloise always said something that helped you understand what could be behind the facts, the actions, the words, what you had the power to change and what you couldn’t, helping you find a way to learn to live with the things you absolutely had no power over. In short, she was incredibly blunt.
“So, tell me what’s new,” she asks from the chair in front of you, adjusting her bifocals around her nose.
“You’re aware our last session was three days ago, right? What could possibly be new?” You snap, surprising even yourself by the raspy tone.
“Ooo, alright, cranky pants.” Her eyes round as she releases an exaggerated puff and writes something on her little notebook, “The bad mood is still a thing, noted. Ok, tell me about the meds. You’ve been taking them for… let me check…” The flipping sound fills the room as she turns the pages in a swift pace, “…a month now, how are they making you feel? Any headaches, sleepiness, dizziness?” She tilts her head to the side, looking back at you.
“Ahm, all of that, actually. But they’re helping with the anxiety,” you answer, matter-of-factly.
“Let’s give it another week then, if the symptoms continue, we’ll talk about trying another prescription. But I think it’s important you stick with them, at least for now. How are you feeling today? And if you say just ‘fine.’ I will kick your ass out of my office.”
You lift an eyebrow at her, which she mimics, challenging you, “I don’t know. Bored?” You shrug exasperatedly, “There’s not much to do around here when you’re not working.”
“Oh, really? There’s not much to do in the most entertaining Tower of the World? Have you met Tony Stark, dear?”
You roll your eyes and let out a snort, crossing your arms in front of you. A few moments of silence goes by before you speak again, “It’s just… I miss him,” You sigh, lifting your eyes from your lap to see Heloise’s full attention on you, “There’s not a moment I’m not thinking about him. It’s funny.” A breathy laugh slips through your nose as you shake your head, “I’ve spent two years away from him, and now two months without seeing, hearing from him seems like it’s … I mean…too much.”
Heloise makes a humming sound before speaking, “When you left, it was your choice. Good or bad, it was your choice. You wanted to run away from him. You came back hoping for the exact opposite. You wanted to be with him and couldn’t. Maybe that is the reason why it’s harder this time.”
You unfold your arms and pick at your nails over your lap, keeping your eyes low, “Yes, it was my choice. Everything else is just consequences of the choices I made. The fact I keep picturing him with another woman, holding her, kissing her, making lov-” you trail off, biting your cheek, “is nothing but my choice…” you add with a whisper and look up at her.
“I remember something you told me you said to him the last time you two talked.” Heloise squints her eyes and places her pen on her lips, as she’s going through her memory to find the words, “You said something like your grandfather had done the best he could with what he had to raise you. Can’t you see the similarity here?” She points her pen at you, “What you did two years ago was the best you could with the resources you had. Was it shitty? Yes, it was. Did it make you suffer more? Yes, it did. But it was the best you could do and there’s nothing you can do now to change it, besides learning from it.”
You let the words sink in. Although they don’t do much to ease down the guilt inside you, they make a bit of sense. You did what you understood it was more appropriated at the time. Just like Bucky is doing now…
“How long has it been since you went out with your friends?” Heloise asks, taking you out from your thoughts.
“Ahm,” you bite on your lip, thinking, “I went out for an ice cream with Sam, like, two weeks ago?”
“Ice cream?” She grimaces, “You have an assignment, I want you out with a couple of friends tonight.” She shushes you when you open your mouth to say something back, “Have a drink or two. Real drinks, not some frozen bullshit. Even if it’s for 15 minutes, just do it. For now it’s only an annoying assignment, soon it won’t feel like it anymore and then, when you least expect, you’ll realize life goes on. Loving him still or not, you’ll keep living.”
You take in a deep sigh, not sure if the fact that you’ll keep living is good news at this point or not. But you’re in therapy after all, trying to get better. You should follow your therapist’s orders.
“Alright, deal.” You tap your hands on your thighs and get up. Another best thing about Heloise’s method is that she lets you on charge of when to finish the session. At least for now, “How much are you getting paid for this shit?” You narrow your eyes at her, with your hand on the doorknob, ready to leave.
“Probably a lot less than I deserve.” She mumbles under her breath, focusing on what she’s writing in her annoying little notebook.
You let out a chuckle before leaving the office.
~~~
A movie night at the Tower’s private cinema room. That’s the best you manage for Heloise’s assignment. She would kick your ass in your next session, but dressing up to go out is still unthinkable to you. She said it herself, it’s the most entertaining place in the world, so why go out?
At least there’ll be Wanda’s buttery popcorn and the ridiculously expensive bottles of sparkling wine Tony is adamant to have up for grabs. Your favorite combo for movies. You feel a tiny curl lifting your lips up at the delicious thought of the treat as you walk into the kitchen, where you see Wanda and Nat. The two avengers you managed to gather for the little rendezvous.
“Hey, everything set?” You ask, leaning your elbows on the balcony as you see Wanda busy with the popcorn making and Nat gathering bottles and glasses, the delicious smell of movies filling up your nostrils. .
“Almost,” Wanda answers with her back to you. Concentrated on the kernels popping on the stovetop.
“Have you decided a movie, yet?” Nat asks, separating three glasses and placing a bottle over the balcony.
“Ahm, no, we can decide it together there,” You smile before you frown, “Where’s everybody, by the way?”
“Vision is on a mission,” Wanda speaks, tilting her head back to look at you, “Tony is locked up somewhere in his penthouse with Pepper. Steve and Sam went out with Bucky and An-”She trails off.
The information hits your chest and there’s an awkward silence among you three, before Wanda speaks again.
“I’m sorry,” Her face scrunches up apologetically.
You don’t know what’s worse. The hurtful sting in your heart, or the pity written all over your friends faces.
After you shake your head and hand dismissively, you clear your throat, grabbing the bottle Nat has placed on the balcony, opening it swiftly. “So, they’re Bucky and Anna, now?” You speak more to yourself than to the girls, not looking directly at them, “Are they… a-are they living together?” you stammer while you pour some of the wine into the three glasses.
“Not that we’re aware of…” Nat shrugs and tightens her lips.
“Ok,” Wanda says a little too excitedly and turns around holding a huge bowl with popcorn, “Now, the final touch, Y/N’s absolute favorite: the butter!” After she places the deliciously smelling popcorn in front of you, she grabs the smaller bowl with melted butter and start pouring it down to blend it in.
“Oh, my God.” You shriek as your hand flies to cover your mouth, helping you hold back the rush of sickness threatening to run up your throat at the sight of the greasy yellow liquid.
You hate the frustration and confusion etching on Wanda’s face as she hurriedly backs away holding both bowls in her hands.
“Are you ok?” Nat narrows her eyes at you.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m so sorry Wands.” You remove your hand from your mouth to speak in a soft tone with Wanda, hating that you might’ve somehow offended her, “It’s just these fucking meds I’ve been taking… They help but they’re also a huge pain in my ass, I’ve been having constant nausea, sometimes I could sleep the whole day, my appetite is a mess… And today I realized they’re messing up with my menstrual cycle, as well.” You huff, missing the way Nat and Wanda exchanged widened eyes looks.
Feeling a little hush of nausea coming through again, you grimace and place a hand on your throat before you glance at the sparkles from the wine. Hoping them would help with your unsettled stomach you grab a glass and turn it down the liquid into your mouth.
“Spit it out!” Wanda and Nat shout, in unison.
As a good agent and avenger, it’s instinctive to immediately obey when someone tells you to not drink something, and you do what your friends say before asking, making a mess on the balcony “What? Why?” You use the back of your hand to clean the corner of your mouth.
The answer that comes next, once again in unison, makes it impossible for you to keep holding back the puke inside you.
“Because you’re pregnant.”