You Are Not a Monster

You Could Be Happy

"You could be happy and I won't know
But you weren't happy the day I watched you go

And all the things that I wished I had not said
Are played in loops 'till it's madness in my head

Is it too late to remind you how we were
But not our last days of silence, screaming, blur"

Bucky and Sam sat on the cold floor in the entryway for so long that Sam actually fell asleep leaning against Bucky's metal arm. He didn't know how it could possibly be comfortable with her head on the cold metal, but regardless, she was still asleep.

Without making a sound, he carefully scooped her up in his arms. He ignored the protests of his wounds and his bruised bones and slowly carried her up the stairs and into her bed. When he pulled the comforter up over her shoulder, she rolled over on her side to face him. He held his breath, as not to wake her.

As he waited, Bucky found himself studying her face, just for a moment. She looked so peaceful, despite her still-puffy eyes and frizzed hair. Some little part in Bucky envied her, how she could close her eyes and sleep without painful memories haunting her mind. She could actually get some rest.

"It's not nice to stare, you know." She muttered groggily. A small grin tugged at Bucky's lips as he turned and left.

"Bucky?" Sam asked. He stopped and turned his head to see her eyes cracked open just enough that they gleamed in the dim light. "I know what you're thinking, and you don't have to." She said quietly.

Bucky didn't say anything, just turned and continued his way downstairs. As soon as he was out of view, he let his limp show. Carrying a person up stairs hadn't exactly been the best idea in his state. Even so, he felt much better than he had earlier; Sam's theory that his body needed nutrients in order to heal at its usual rate seemed to have been correct.

Which brought him to his next issue.

Whether he would stay or not.

He thought about his options as he sat on the couch. On one hand, he could go ahead and leave, which also gave him a better chance of outrunning HYDRA. It would also lower the chances that they would find Sam.

On the other hand, he could stay and finish healing his body. In all reality, it was the better choice of the two; though it put Sam in danger, he wouldn't be able to run in his state. At least he could get another meal or so in him before fleeing, although it was unknown when his next possible meal would be in either situation. After all, he needed it to heal.

One more night. He thought, turning the TV off and settling on the sofa. Then I'll leave.

--•--•--•--•--

The sound of something sizzling in the kitchen is what woke him. He sat up on the couch, head pounding. The world spun around him and he blinked a few times to clear his vision. The scent of something cooking in the kitchen made his stomach growl.

Strange. It hasn't done that in a while.

By "a while," Bucky actually meant decades. Because he technically hadn't actually eaten anything since before he got his bionic arm, his stomach had gotten used to being constantly empty and had stopped audibly complaining. Of course, he did feel hunger, he just ignored it.

He noticed a thick blanket balled up at the end of the couch that hadn't been there before.

"You were shivering in your sleep, so I covered you up. You kinda kicked it off, though." Sam called from the kitchen as she washed her hands. "Good morning!" She cheered while she dried them on the towel thrown over her shoulder.