The Hurt And The Healing: Bucky X OC

Chapter Eight: Cleaning Is Not Supposed To Make A Bigger Mess

Mara did not like Bucky Wolfe. She did not like how he just inserted himself into their lives. She did not like how Nonna pinched his cheeks and called him James. She did not like how it seemed like he was always there when she was having a bad day. And she did not like how Nonna was upset when they received a voicemail from him telling them that he had to leave town for the foreseeable future to take care of some business.

As Nonna fussed around the kitchen, worrying aloud as to what could take him out of the city on such short notice, Mara remained seated at the table. While Nonna was worrying that he was in trouble, or hurting, Mara was worrying that he was keeping secrets from them. He always acted like he was honest, but there was something that he was holding back from them, Mara just knew it. Nonna called her paranoid, but Mara knew that she just didn't want to admit that she saw it too. Bucky Wolfe was lying about something.

"Bah! The world has just gotten so ugly," Nonna complained as she aggressively kneaded dough, slamming it onto the table every few pushes. "Things were supposed to get better when everyone came back, not worse!"

Mara hummed her response, staring at the same paragraph in the paper that she had been for the past five minutes.

"Like these Flag Smashers," Nonna continued, not registering that she may as well have been speaking to herself. "Poor bastardi, they're so desperate for food and medicine that they will kill anyone who gets in their way." She grabbed a bowl and aggressively oiled the inside before plopping the dough into it. "And what does the government do? Nothing!"

"The pricks," Mara replied, as she always did when Nonna was talking about the government.

"And this new Captain America- did you see that they made a new Captain America?" Nonna had moved on to cleaning the dishes.

If Mara stopped zoning out as she read the newspaper with the headline "A NEW CAP IN TOWN," John Walker's face on the front page, and the five articles about him, she would have worried that Nonna was going to break one of their dishes.

"This new Captain America, he looks like a stronzo, such a punchable face! More like Captain America First!" Nonna chortled as she scrubbed away. When she plopped a pot of water into the sink, causing soapy water to splash all over her, the floor, and the dishes that were supposed to be drying, Mara finally looked up.

"Nonna, if you could stop taking your anger out on our dishes that would be great," she said dryly. Nonna scoffed.

"Look at his face! Are you telling me that that face doesn't make you want to hit something?" Nonna exclaimed. Mara glanced down at the newspaper and shrugged.

"No more than strange men's faces usually make me want to punch something. Which brings me back to my point," Mara looked up, an eyebrow arched, "stop trying to break our plates just because you are mad you didn't get to say goodbye to Bucky."

"Bah!" Nonna turned back to the dishes, although she was washing them with a bit less rage. "I just don't know what could have taken him away so quickly," she said after a minute of scrubbing. "He didn't mention anything last night."

"He isn't the open book that you want him to be," Mara said in a tone equal parts reproachful and sympathetic. "I know you like to see the best in people, but sometimes people aren't who you think they are."

"You just don't trust strangers," Nonna replied. Mara shrugged.

"And you don't believe in strangers. You think that they're all just friends you haven't gotten to know yet."

The two women were quiet, each processing their feelings on the Bucky Wolfe problem. Mara wasn't sure what she had felt when they got his voicemail. She knew that she felt bad for Nonna, having to let someone go without getting a proper goodbye. She had also felt a bit relieved, knowing that she had a break from the anxiety of coming home from work unsure if he would be in her apartment like he belonged there. And she felt just slightly worried that he was in trouble and would drag her and Nonna into it, or better yet, die and force Nonna to mourn someone again.

Those emotions about Bucky leaving without warning barely reached ten percent of Mara's emotional capacity. The other ninety percent was left empty and numb. Mara sometimes worried that she was too tired to have emotions, like she needed to reach a certain benchmark of rested-ness in order to have feelings stronger than the pang of guilt that came with the realization that she should have feelings. Most of the time she just went through life without feeling anything other than tired and stressed. Then about once a week she'd have a meltdown over something that she knew was stupid and was not actually the reason why she was freaking out but made her freak out nonetheless, followed by the best night's sleep she had had all week and then back to nothing.

Last night had been her weekly freak out. Between the adrenaline, fear, and unbridled rage, Mara had maxxed out her allowance of feelings. Even when she found the wallet in her plant that morning when she left to get the paper she hardly felt a thing. She just pocketed it and wondered how it had ended up there as she walked to the corner store.

Maybe Spiderman had ventured out of his neighborhood and tied up the perp, grabbed his wallet, used his arachnid senses to find her apartment, and left it for her. Maybe a Good Samaritan had watched her get away from the fight, took her assailant's wallet, followed her to her apartment, left it in the potted plant, and went on their way. Maybe an alien had watched shit go down from their spaceship and beamed the wallet from her attacker's pocket to her doorstep. Or maybe Bucky had listened in on their conversation, found the bastard, and brought his wallet back to Mara's place.

Mara prefered any of those other explanations to Bucky being the one to get the wallet. If he had been the one to bring it to their apartment that meant two things. One: he had heard Mara's break down which made her look stupid and like an easy target if he did end up robbing them. Two: she owed him a thank you.

Mara was horrible at thank you's. Nonna always told her that after she thanked someone she also owed them an apology because she just ended up insulting them. Mara didn't mean to be a bitch about it, she just never knew how to do it. She hated being dependent, and so she tried to reassure people that they need not get into the habit of helping her. She explained to them how she could have done it herself without their assistance, or how if she was ever faced with something that she could not do for herself she found a way to live without it, but she just sounded ungrateful. Nonna tried to get her to write cards to people instead of doing it face-to-face, but then Nonna would read the cards and edit them and rewrite them and change them until it might as well have been Nonna's thank you with Mara's signature on it.

Either way, Mara was really horrible at thank you's.

"Are you feeling better after last night?" Nonna asked, breaking the silence. Mara sighed and rubbed her neck.

"I think so. Mostly I'm just sore," Mara replied. "I haven't had a workout that intense since college."

Nonna tisked and shook her head. She finished washing the last dish and set it down before walking over to the table and sitting down next to Mara. "I just hate to think about what you must have gone through," she said sadly, tucking a stray lock of hair back behind Mara's ear. She grasped Nonna's hand and pressed it against her cheek.

"I know. But I'm okay now," she reassured her. "It's not like I can just stop taking the bus. I'll just carry soup cans in my purse from now on."

"What about Alex's service weapon?" Nonna asked in a hushed tone. "He taught you how to use it, can't you take it with you?"

"I don't have a license, just what he taught me almost a decade ago.," Mara replied, shaking her head. "Not to mention that it is illegal for me to use his gun."

"Well assault is also illegal but that doesn't seem to be stopping anyone!" Nonna exclaimed. Mara sighed and squeezed Nonna's hand.

"I'll be fine, Nonna. I always am," Mara smiled and kissed her Nonna's cheek. "Now I need to mop the floors before your dish washing endeavors drip down onto Mrs. Sinclair in 4G." She stood up but Nonna kept her grip on Mara's wrist.

"You know I pray for you every night," Nonna said seriously. "I worry about you, Mara." Mara stooped down and pressed her forehead against her adoptive grandmother's.

"Lo so e ti voglio bene," Mara replied. She kissed Nonna on the forehead and straightened. "I'm not going anywhere, Nonna. I'll always be here for you." Mara smiled and walked to the storage closet where they kept the mop.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Nonna said just quietly enough for Mara to not hear.