Soul Stealer ~ (A Bucky Barnes Love Story)

The Ancient One

I ground my teeth together, jaw vibrating I was pushing down so hard. My nostrils flared with every exaggerated exhale, fingernails digging painfully into the flesh of my palms. I refused to look at Dr. Nose Hair, mainly because I was terrified of what I might do. He'd backed me into a corner, and my instinct was to come out swinging.

If my therapist had any idea how close to death he was at the moment I couldn't tell. He sat casually in his oversized chair with his pen and paper sitting idly on his lap. He occasionally smiled at me, but it seemed more like a reflex than a friendly gesture. Our standoff had long since passed the point of silent contemplation, and was firmly in awkward silence territory.

Not that my therapist seemed to give a crap. He'd nodded off twice while I suffered through a crisis he had laid in my lap. The bastard's eyes drooped shut, head falling forward. His body jolted suddenly, eyes snapping open at the last possible second before he fell out of the chair which was mildly disappointing. He offered me another fake smile, adjusting in the seat like it might help him stay awake.

The same cycle had been on repeat for almost an hour, him fighting the z monster and me fighting not to pull his soul from his sweater vest clad body. It was the longest silent game in recorded history. The rules were simple, if I talked, I could go. If I didn't, the session from Hell didn't end.

The general consensus after the ill-fated mission to the HYDRA base was I needed to process what happened. I felt like I processed it pretty well during my death-defying freefall, but apparently if you didn't process in therapy it didn't count.

Dr. Nose Hair exhaled, a nasally snore filling the quiet office. The loud noise woke him, and he blinked rapidly, glancing at his watch. "My, time sure does fly."

I continued to grind my teeth. If this kept up they'd be whittled down to numbs. That was not a good look.

"Evelyn." He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It doesn't have to be like this." I snorted, crossing my arms over my chest. "You talk to me all the time. Why is this time any different?"

"You ask too much."

Of me, of my life, of my past.

"We don't have to talk about all of it. How about you choose one thing from the mission and we focus on that." When I didn't budge he sighed, again, tapping his finger on his notepad. "Would you like to discuss what happened in the quinjet?"

Like I wanted a hole in my head.

"I've spoken to Mr. Barnes' therapist and we are of the opinion it would be beneficial if we have a group session."

"Group session?" I did not like the sound of that.

"Yes, Mr. Barnes would join us so we would discuss the events that took place after you left the HYDRA base."

"No. Fucking. Way."

He frowned, chastising me about my language and avoidance behavior, but I didn't care. It'd been five days since the "incident" as I'd taken to calling it. I spent the first four in medical as the serum did it's job of stitching my broken body back together.

Once I was lucid the first words out of my mouth were about Bucky. He'd spent two days right beside me in medical then promptly...well, I suppose the polite way to put it was he declined further care. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since which was fine by me, at first.

I was having trouble remembering everything clearly, but the one thing I would never forget was the fact he'd jumped out of a plane to save me. That felt significant, maybe even life changing, but what the hell did I know? There had been so many things on the tip of my tongue as we plummeted through the sky. So many unspoken truths I yearned to confess, but like every other time, I hadn't, and now the moment had passed.