White | B. BARNES

Chapter 14

📍Bucharest, Romania | June 2014

Walking to the cashier to pay for the noodles in her hands, she passed by a stationary section.

She walked there, seeing a similar black journal that she once had.

"Whatever you can't describe to me in speech, write it down," Dr. Petrov told her 5-year-old self.

She grabbed the notebook and a pen. Walking out of the aisle, a bunch of sticky note bookmarks caught her eyes.

She got a couple of those in blue and red. Then, she proceeded to pay at the cashier.

"Mulțumesc," she thanked, retrieving her packed items.

She walked back to the marketplace, finding James. Of course, people looked at her with wonder, but it's something she's used to now.

Passing by the markets, a mother and a child were talking to each other in Romanian.

The child wanted a toy, but her mother couldn't afford it, placing back the doll in the child's hands. The mother walked ahead, thinking her daughter was following her.

Seeing the child upset standing at the front of the stall while staring at the doll, she couldn't bear it anymore.

She walked over to the stall, paid for the doll. Then, she crouched down to her height and handed the doll to her, "Aici, ai grijă de ea, bine? (Romanian: Here, take care of her, okay?)"

The eyes of the child lighted up, holding the toy close to her chest hugging it. "Acum, du-te după mama ta. (Romanian: Now, go. Follow your mama.)

The child nodded at her, running off to her mom, showing the doll to her, and pointing at me. She mouthed a thank you to me then went their way.

"For someone who hates people, you sure di like to interact with them, Doll," a voice behind her spoke.

She tensed, turning back to him, "I have spare change."

He rose a brow at her knowing she was bullshitting him.

"Come on, let's go home," she said, dragging him along.

They went home, eat, then went to bed. In the middle of the night, she woke up feeling a hand grip her arm tightly.

She immediately sat up, ready to attack whoever just touched her. She looked around, not seeing anyone, but when she looked down at her arm, a metal hand was gripping it.

Sighing that it was just James, she looked at him, who was wriggling in his sleep. His brunette hair was drenched in sweat dripping to his forehead down his face, to his neck, and bare chest.

His head was moving from left and right with a struggling expression.

"James," she called out and shook him lightly.

"James, wake up," she repeated.

"James!"

He jolted up using his flesh hand, choking her against the wall.

He was breathing hard, staring at her. 

"James," She said softly, using her other hand to grip the hand around her neck.

Bucky's eyes widened, and pulled back both of his hands from her, "Shit."

"Shit. I'm sorry," he said, horrified looking at her arm and neck.

She can feel her neck bruising.

"It's okay. I'm okay," She told him, maintaining her tone.

He rubbed his head, apologizing, "This is what I'm talking about. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey," she grabbed his face softly between her palms. "I'm okay."

He let out an exhale, looking at her neck. He raised his hand up, "Can I?"

She nodded in hesitation because she didn't want him to beat himself up for it. It wasn't in his control.

She released his face, and he held the side of her jaw to tilt it gently.

"I'm okay, James," she repeated to him.

"No, you're not. It's bruising," Bucky spoke harshly.

"You need to put ice on it," he said, about to stand up.

She pulled him back by his shoulder, "It's alright, James."

"It's not! It's already dark," he insisted, pointing to her neck.

"Calm down," she said. "It's going to take a minute for it to heal itself."

She raised her arm and showed the bruise on it starting to disappear. "My body heals itself. So, I mean it when I say that it's okay."

He gave a defeated sigh, running his hand through his hair, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not within your control," she rubbed her hands down on his metal arm.

She stood up, tying her hair in a messy bun, only wearing an oversized shirt.

"Where are you going?" Bucky watched her leave the bed and head over the paper bag from the grocery store.

She pulled out some items before going to the fridge, getting him a glass of water.

She went back to sit on the bed, handing him the water for him to drink.

After he did, she gave him the stationary items she bought.

"What's this for?" He asked, looking down at them.

"When I was a child, Dr. Petrov would chart down my growth. Everything I could feel that's changing within me must be known to him. There are things that I couldn't put into speech, so he suggested to me to write them down, so he has something to look back on," she said, seeing the confusion in James' face.

"You told me you didn't want to forget any of it, and you don't have to. Write everything you want to remember, and if that day comes, this journal will always be there for you," she explained.

James stared at her lost for words. He didn't know what he did in his life to deserve any of this.

Not thinking about his actions, he leaned forward to hug her tightly like she was his lifeline.

"Oh," she said, not expecting his reaction. With uncertainty, she slowly slid her hands against his bareback.

"Thank you," he whispered, holding her tighter.

Deciding on letting her emotions go just, for now, she rubbed his back, "And, I won't let it happen, okay? I'm not letting anyone hurt you, even yourself."

"Thank you," Bucky repeated, closing his eyes and breathing in relief.

Hopeful.

"Thank you for letting me tag along," she said, hiding her small smile.