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

Secret Admirer

"Do something you're not ready to do. In the worst case, you'll learn your limitations."
-Marissa Mayer

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Bucky's POV

I wake up with a sore back and my right arm asleep.
My eyes slowly adapt to the darkness in the room, and I notice Nova still asleep on my arm.
I shift my position, straightening my back.
Nova has her arm wrapped around my waist, keeping her head on me. 
I turn on the lamp, noticing a missed call on my phone from Steve. 
I look down, my hand brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. 
My mind goes back to what happened a few hours ago, and I feel a lump in my throat. 
I'd noticed she was acting weird the few times I came to the tower but presumed she was just mad at Tony for keeping her from working with us. 
Turns out it was worst than that. 
It really concerns me how self-destructive Nova becomes when she's mad or sad. 
I tilt back my head, staring at the ceiling. How the hell am I going to keep her from going back to that shit? 
I lift her arm up, trying not to wake her and sneaking out of bed. 
She hums in her sleep and turns on her other side. 

I stretch my arm over my head, feeling the muscles in my back flex and relax. 
I drag myself to the bathroom, turning on the light and noticing the mess we left. 
I sigh and start picking up everything from the floor and putting them back in the cabinet over the sink. 
My hand reaches for the faucet, turns on some cold water, and wash my face before taking off my hoodie. 
My left arm hurts like hell. 
Well, what's left of it. 
This phantom pain never leaves me, and sometimes it still bothers me. 
I roll my shoulder, trying to get some relief. 
With my right hand, I close the cabinet, seeing Nova in the mirror. "You're up," I say, looking at her reflection. 
"I heard running water." She mutters, leaning her shoulder against the door frame. 
"Sorry," I turn to face her. 
"It's ok. Are you ok?" Nova frowns, looking at my arm. 
"Yeah, it's nothing." I shrug, watching her walk towards me. 
"May I?" She asks hesitantly, holding her hand up. 
I frown, confused, and she smiles softly. 
"It'll take just a few seconds." She reassures me, and I nod. 

Her warm hand rests on my chest, where my skin meets the metal. 
I watch her hand glow, and a warm tingle travels through my shoulder. 
I breathe in slowly, keeping my eyes on her as she stares at her hand.
The pain slowly fades away, leaving behind nothing but subtle heat. 
"Better?" She looks up at me.
"Yeah," I hum, staring into her eyes. 
Her fingers brush the scar tissue around the prosthesis.
"Does it always hurt you?" She whispers, tracing my arm with her fingers.  
"No, not always. Sometimes it gets itchy, but there's nothing to scratch." I sigh, feeling shivers down my spine. 
"I'm sorry for what I did before." She looks up. 
"You already said that." She looks away.
"I know, and it doesn't make me feel better." Her voice shakes a little. 
"Because, it's not what you need," I state, resting my hand on hers. 

"Don't tell them." She whispers. 
"Nova, you can't keep going on like this." She nods, squeezing her eyes closed. 
"I won't, but they don't have to know." she insists, fixing me with a glare.
I sigh, resting my right hand on her hip. "Ok, I won't tell them. But at one condition." She frowns. 
"What is it?"
"You will get help, professional help." I state, staring at her. Nova's expression tenses. 
I know she is not going to accept seeing a therapist, not right now at least. 
"I don't need someone to get in my head. I'll handle this myself." She slides her hand out and steps back.
"No, Nova. You can't." I croon. 
I don't want her to get mad again. I need her to be cooperative. 
She was already stubborn before, but that was not even her, so it can only get worse. 
"Bucky..." She sighs, turning away and walking out of the bathroom. 
"You could go to NA if you don't want to see a therapist, but you can't do this alone." I follow her into her room.
She shakes her head, sitting on her bed.