We Deserved Better ⤿ Stucky x Reader

eight ⤿ numb

translations will be at the end of the chapter.

ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ 

The war was over. You should be happy about it, in a way you were, but the war caused you to lose the two most important things in your life.

People celebrated in the streets, people hugged one another, laughed and smiled. But you couldn't. I mean, how could you? You felt numb. Peggy offered for you to stay in London with her, but you denied it. You wanted to go back home- though it would be painful to be back in the home that was once shared with them, you wanted to go back. You were tired of sleeping on cots, tired of the nurse uniforms and constant smile you had to plaster on your face. You wanted it to be over and it finally was, but God, at what cost?

You had packed quickly. You smiled as much as you could as you said your goodbyes, Peggy promised to keep in touch with you and Howard said you could call him any time for anything and he would help no matter what. Everyone was so nice to you and only because of what you lost. It was all just pity they felt.

Finally you were back home in New York, bag tight in your hand and smile vacant from your face. You were given what ever remained of the boys belongings. Some clothes and random nic-nacs. And of course their dog tags.

The war ended September 2nd, 1945. You were only 25 years old, you would be turning 26 in December.

Slowly you opened the door to your house, the door creaking as you did so. It was so quiet it was almost painful. The last person who was inside this house was Steve two years ago. You shut the door behind you, locking it before letting your bag drop with a dull thud, kicking off your shoes. You stood by the door for a good while, staring off at nothing. But slowly everything came crashing down.

The war, the things you saw, the letters stopping, the loneliness, losing Bucky, losing Steve.

It all hit once and it hit hard, with a pained sob you fell to your knees, hands falling in front of you to catch you from fully falling to your face. You then let yourself fall to your side as you curled into yourself. You cried, and cried, and cried. The cries weren't loud, they were silent. Your throat became raw and pained, nails dug so deep into your palms you had blood dripping from the crescent shaped marks. Your face was red and it felt hot to the touch.

Hours passed and you stayed on the ground, your cries subsided and at this point you once again were staring off into nothingness. You were so alone.

⤿ The months drew on painfully slow, you didn't celebrate the holidays or your birthday when it rolled around. You barley saw or spoke to anyone, only when necessary. Money grew tighter and you had to get a job, you didn't want to though. You just wanted to stay in your bed under the covers for as long as you could, sleep away the pain you felt.

Getting a job as a waitress was not something you enjoyed, you had to pretend to be happy, plaster a perfect smile on your face and be as kind as can be. Its not like you weren't kind, its just that you didn't really feel anything besides, numbness.

1946 rolled around, the New York weather was practically perfect in early April. The night was young and you just got off a shift at the local diner you worked in. You walked home, shoulders slumped and bag held against your side. You personally couldn't wait to get home and be off your feet, you had been working since eight am and barely had time to sit and breathe for a moment. As you passed an alley way you tried to pick up your speed, keeping your head low but ears alert. You never liked passing this alley way, it always made the hairs on your arms and neck to stand, the feeling of eyes always present. You didn't know what lurked behind the darkness and you didn't want to know.