Necessary Good, Unnecessary Evil | No rest For Wounded Souls [Bucky Barnes]

Three Bucks

"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."
-Orson Welles

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Nova's POV

Tony blankly stares at me for a few seconds, and I sigh heavily.
"Come again?" He says, and I groan, scrunching my face.
It's going to be a long afternoon.
"For as long as I can remember, my mother never let us stay in a place for more than a few months. Sometimes weeks." I begin, and Tony sits in front of me, listening closely.
"When I was little, she just told me we were going on trips, adventures," I say, smiling.
I loved packing my things and leaving for a new city.
"But growing up, I started to notice those trips were pretty weird.
My mother always tried to keep on a playful facade, but I realized she was very stressed, always worried.
She was constantly looking over her shoulder." Memories keep flowing in my mind, and I force myself not to get too deep into them.

"In 2004, we moved to Italy. I was ten, and she told me she found a good job there.
For the first time in my life, I started to feel like a normal kid. I made friends and just lived my life.
The best five years of my life, and then everything went to hell." My chest feels tight, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm down.
"I went to see a movie with some friends, and when I got back, she was packing our stuff. She was freaking out, and I got mad at her.
I didn't want to leave, and we started arguing, and she screamed at me that we had to get out because the place wasn't safe.
So I asked her what that meant, and she just stared at me." The remorse is like a slap in my face. I spent the last hours with my mother being angry at her.

"We left and got back to the US, to our old house in New York.
That's when shit hit the fan." My voice breaks, and I try to stop.
Tony looks at me, and I notice his jaw clenches and his nostrils dilated.
Is he mad? What did I say wrong?
He notices I'm looking at him perplexed and shakes his head, softening his expression.
"Do you remember how many people were there?" he asks softly, and I nod.
My memories of that night are fragmented but clear as day.
"three of them burst into our house while we were having dinner.
They were all dressed in black tactical clothes.
One of them grabbed me and dragged me out of the house.
The other two stayed inside." I blink a few times and notice my breath getting faster.
Tony doesn't say anything, waiting for me to continue.

"I don't remember how things went from then on, it was chaotic, and I was screaming. The rain made it even harder to hear anything else.
I remember lights flashing, gunshots probably.
One of them put me in a van, and before they closed the door. I saw my mother kneeling on the ground with a gun to her head.
The man that held the gun was the one giving the orders.
The last thing I remember from that night is the sound of a gunshot." I croak and let out a shaky breath.
"Alright, that's enough for now." Tony sighs, and I stand up.
"Can I go?" I ask, and he looks at me with a frown.
"Yeah, of course. You don't have to ask permission." He states, and I look at him confused.
Is he going to let me leave if I want? Or is it just partial freedom he's giving me?
I'm used to following orders, but I don't have to follow his orders. So why am I questioning what can I or cannot do?
I shrug and walk back upstairs. I need to sit down for a moment and ease my mind.
The last time I let that day replay in my mind, I lost myself.
They tried to erase everything from me, putting my brain in a blender and forcing me to relive it again and again.

I can feel my lungs barely expand in my chest, and my heart rate gets faster and faster.
"Fuck," I curse under my breath, closing the door behind me and resting against it for a few seconds.
I promised myself I was never going to let that hurt me like this again.
But here I am. Sweat running down my temple, and breath stuck in my throat.
I walk to the bed, crashing on it and wrapping my arms around my knees.
"You're not there. You're not there," I whisper to myself, trying to keep my mind anchored in the present.
I sit up and put my feet on the floor, hoping this will help me breathe better.
A wave of energy leaves my body, throwing some of the objects around the room straight into the walls.
I hear a knock, and the door opens.
My head snaps to the side, and I see Steve standing in the doorway.
He gapes at me, noticing the floor covered with random items, the room totally trashed.