#got him shaking in his boots and apologized PROFUSELY without missing a beat

[cuppasunu]

🤓

[itbethatwaysometime]

Uncharted- Chapter 11

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Emtional breakdowns :(

A/n: sorry I took so long. If you saw my last post you heard that all of my stuff just kind of disappeared which sounds completely absurd. So here you go, and I’m going to try and write as much as possible over the holidays!!!

Part 1

You waited there for a minute, a minute became two. Then you heard some shuffling behind the door followed by some pensive thinking. Bucky was wondering whether or not he should let you guys in. You hoped he did, he was probably strung up with guilt.

After another minute, with Steve steadily growing more anxious by the second, the door finally opens a few inches.

Through the gap, you see Bucky’s tall frame peering through, his eyes a magnet towards the large bruise blooming on your face, a pained expression on his face.

“Hey Bucky….” You say, gently, an exhaled breathe. He didn’t have a cap on, his hair was an alluring mess, he was wearing a dark grey Henley and black pants. He was still wearing his heavy combat boots, ready to go. He had a heavy scruff, that looked like he hadn’t shaved in a week.

“Can we come in?” Steve inquires, his hands gripping the handlebars of the wheelchair tightly. You practically hear the gears churning in his head.

For a second or two, you honestly thought Bucky was just going to close the door on you, his eyes darted from you to Steve. He looked like he was going to flee. But, he made an almost imperceptible nod and opened the door completely, holding it open for the both of you.

The inside of the apartment was similar to the ones you and Steve lived. You looked to your right and you could see the very little personal belongings he owned in a green duffle bag off to the side.

The sight made you sad. From your point of view, you could see a couple of shirts and jeans, a jacket, a red notebook, a black notebook, and an old postcard that was faced down. So little, such an insubstantial amount of things to represent a story that could be told over years and years. You couldn’t without taking a better look into that bag, but you couldn’t imagine him carrying anything that tied him to his past, anything.

Steve pushed you over to the couch where he sat down protectively to your side, placing himself in between you and Bucky, he laid a large hand on your thigh, keeping both you and him grounded. Bucky stood uncomfortably in the middle of the sitting area for a beat, but elected to sit down in front of in front of Steve, where he had a good vantage point of the door, the only entrance and exit to the apartment. You could see him shift, adjusting his position to make sure his metal arm was as far away from you as possible

There was a really awkward silence before, Steve cleared his throat.

“Thank you.” You started, both men looked at you in surprise, Bucky was also looking at you slightly horrified, his lips parted and eyes wide.

“You caught me. When I, um fainted.” You clarified. Going from a standing position straight to the floor was painful, very painful. Thankfully there was a certain super soldier that caught you before more damage could be done.

“I almost killed you…” The words coming out with a pause in between each. As if it took effort to speak them. “You should- You can’t”

He couldn’t seem to manage to have any words come out, so he settled for a guilty shake of the head. He once again scanned your features and he seemed to notice the fact that you were in a wheelchair. He cast his eyes downwards guiltily, as he assessed the rest of your injuries from his point of view. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but you desperately wanted to know.

“You didn’t, he did. But, I’m okay” He looks up abruptly staring back, disbelieving.

He opened his mouth once, twice, words threatening to spill over, but never coming to light.

Then, Steve spoke up.

“Buck, I wanted to apologize for… before. I didn’t know-” He rubbed a hand through his neck, gathering courage,” I didn’t know that was going to happen.” Steve inhaled strongly, keeping himself in check. Steve spoke sincerely, wanting to apologize profusely and tell him how terribly bad he felt and how he regretted the many things he didn’t say back in the day and how he hated fighting him on the helicarrier… He wanted to say all these things, but he knew that if he did, Bucky would run. He’d run, because those feelings would be too vivid and too real, and they’d hit too close to a part of his brain that hasn’t been utilised since he got taken away by Hydra.

So, he kept it simple, even if it didn’t come out the way he wanted to, he hoped desperately that his best friend saw all the feelings and words he couldn’t convey through the tone of his voice.

You watched Bucky respond. He almost never spoke, when he did, it was short, mostly monosyllables replies. But, he didn’t need to speak, he didn’t need to use words to answer questions. What those people did, they took that away from him, they stole his power over words, stripping it from the man he once ones and never giving it back to the man he is today.

He answered with a meaningful gaze and a slow nod. He was forgiving. You had a terribly hard time imagining yourself back in the perilous situation you found yourself in a few hours ago, with the same man. You scolded yourself, they weren’t the same person, they were just inhabiting the same body.

You could see the tiredness in the lines of his body. The nervousness in the tapping of his finger. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Steve, do you know if the King T’Challa has arranged the–” that’s when a certain rich, playboy, philanthropist of a man burst through the door of his apartment. In a second, there were two ridiculously tall super soldiers shielding you from view, ready to defend.

Steve was a relaxed, solid wall of muscle, standing in front of you, keeping a soft hand on your shoulder. Bucky on the other hand, was coiled tight, a spring ready to fire off, a trigger just waiting to be pulled. There was a terse silence, tension sending sparks through the air.

“How can you let her in here, Captain?” Tony says, his voice, quaking with rage. He might only be one man, but oh does he have some willpower. “How?,” He levels his gaze towards Steve,his anger rolling off of him, he pointedly looks at Bucky,” He-”

The moment he raised his voice, you reached out and grabbed Bucky’s forearm, trying to tell him to stay calm and stand down. He twitched, tensed and then pointedly looked at where you touched him, staring at it as if it was some foreign object. Slowly, you saw his stance relax just a little, you send him in encouraging smile, before letting go, missing the skin to skin contact.

“He didn’t do anything.” You said from behind them, you gently nudged Steve aside, rolling yourself towards Tony. “He didn’t.” Tony stared at you, jaw agape, looking at the bruise that had gone from green to black in his absence.

You could feel the two presences behind you, both ready to pounce for two very different reason. Steve knew he might have to reel you back, if someone pushed the wrong buttons, wheelchair be damned. Bucky on the other hand, was reluctantly tensed up again, he didn’t want to hurt anyone, but Tony seemed ready to have his head on a stick.

“I’m fine.” You try to reach for his hand, but he pulls away.

“No! You aren’t fine! He choked you! You almost died. I had to-,” he turned his back to you, hiding his eyes with his right hand,” I had to watch you-.” He spits out the words, voice cracking.

You turned towards Steve and told him that you’d be back soon, then you turned to Bucky.

You grabbed a hold of his metal hand, he visibly flinched and reared to pull his hand away but you held on. And to your credit, he could easily fling you across the room, but thankfully he didn’t. “I’ll come back. Promise.” You didn’t know it yet, but those were the exact words he needed to hear.

You push yourself to be right under Tony’s gaze, despite the height differential. “Hey now, I’m leaving. Let’s go back to my house.” You tug on his hand to set him into motion. You send in apologetic smile to the both of them, waiting for Tony to bring you out.

He leaves with a cold glance towards the dynamic duo, and pushes you out.

He pushed you silently towards the other side of the hall. Opening up the door for you, you were finally back home after your… ordeal.

The silence between you was palpable, and not in the good way. You could hear him thinking, readying some kind of lecture for you to listen to for the next 45 minutes.

He elects to get you comfortable first, it was getting late. He pushes you towards the couch, gathering up blankets and pillows. He seems to have made a place for him too. He still hasn’t said a single word and you knew he was angry, having an argument with himself in his head.

He walks over to you, a look you can’t quite place on his face as he slips a hand under your knees and around you waist, gently depositing you and the couch.

He sits down next to you, bringing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. He rests his head on his forearms, breathing in deeply, shakily.

“I had to watch the life drain out of you.” He whispers out, barely audible. “He had his hand around your neck and I just stood there,” he spits out, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides,” helpless.” He says, completely defeated.

At that moment you just began to realise the depth of his hurt. It was monumental, much like Bucky’s, but very different. You knew this from the time you spent together, you caught glimpses every once in awhile. But, it’s the first time you faced his sorrows upfront.

You did your best to scoot over, but a sharp stab to the rib kept you still. You let out an irritated huff before ushering him closer to your side.

“I know. But, you have to see that, what I did there, in that cell, was necessary. Him getting triggered was an outcome I thought I could avoid, but Tony… You should’ve seen him, strapped to that bed,” You tightened your grip on his hand remembering the scene vividly, he squeezed back.

He looks at you for a beat, his emotions more exposed than ever before, so he did what he did best, let it out angrily.

“That was reckless. That was so incredibly reckless, do you have a death wish?” You knew that this was a coping mechanism, so you let him vent,” I had to watch- I haven’t felt that sort of panic since Pepper-” He stopped there, catching himself before the words could spill out. “I can’t do that. Not again.”

He seemed to be on the verge of a panic attack, or a breakdown or something that would break him. He always hated this part of him, the part that showed off weakness, but it tore you up inside because all it did was show you his strength.

“Come here,” you grabbed him and pulled him in so that he lay by your side, snuggled into you,” I’m fine, some stuff hurts, but that comes with the job.” You made sure to exaggerate your breathing a little bit so that he followed it.

“You’re okay. We are okay.”

You didn’t know how long you laid there, but by the time you escaped your buzzing thoughts, Tony’s breaths had evened out and he’d drifted off to sleep.

Your mind led your way back to Bucky. To the the little amount of words that drifted out of his mouth. You wanted to hear more of it, listen to anything he’d have to say, hear him laugh and recount stories about him and Steve. You sigh and shift a little knowing good and well that wasn’t going to happen.

You didn’t blame the others for thinking that way, but you hoped that one day they’d move on, and see the man underneath, someone you had yet to meet.

It was confirmed that he was staying here, and in that time you’d like to get to know him better. You seemed to be the only one, other than Steve, that saw through his past, that didn’t hold it against him.

The tiredness started to catch up to you and before you knew it, your eyelids grew heavy and your breathing slowed, drifting off into peaceful sleep.

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