Piece By Piece

Part 12

-One month after Y/n is shot-

I stared at the treadmill in front of me. I had my running shoes on, and was dressed in my workout gear. Bruce suggested that I add a workout to my physical therapy routine, and so I immediately chose running. It was my go-to workout before everything happened, and it reminded me of Pietro. I stepped onto the mat, and turned the machine on. I set it at a walking pace and began to move my legs. It still hurt to move, hence upping of the physio routine. After a few minutes of walking, I speed up a little bit, a brisk walk, and decide that this is the fastest I'll go for today. I plug in my earbuds and play some upbeat music to keep myself engaged.

I zone out and try to ignore the sharp pain in my abdomen. Every time I close my eyes I see Pietro getting shot. Now that I've been shot myself, I know a fraction of a pain he felt as he died, and it's a soul-crushing, burden of a thought. A year slips down my cheek and I pick up the pace a bit. Suddenly out of nowhere, a large silver hand presses the slow button, reversing what I just did. I let out a quiet shriek and jump a bit, stumbling on the treadmill. I glare at Barnes and set my feet on the sides of the treadmill- the parts that don't move, and press both hands to my forehead.

"You're an ass," I say, trying to even out my breathing.

"I'm observant," he counters. I glare at him again. "Come on, doll, I saw your brain taking a little dive into the deep end and thought I'd pull you back to reality before you hit the morphine buffet." I couldn't decide whether I should be grateful or insulted and offended by his comment. I was feeling argumentative, so I went with offended.

"Can you not? Please? If you're so observant you would see that I'm not really in the mood for jokes." The corners of his mouth dipped into a frown.

"I'm just trying to help," I laugh in disbelief.

"You think that poking fun at the fact that sometimes I have to turn to drugs to make myself feel better about my shitstorm of a life will make me feel better?" I rolled my eyes and walked over to the yoga section.

"Fine then, if you're going to be a bitch about it." I glared at him again as I sat down, crossing my legs into a pretzel shape.

"Just go Barnes. I can't deal with this right now," I said, not making eye contact. I needed support, not mocking and insults. He was so kind after I was shot, and now he just uses the incident against me. He huffs and storms out of the room. I try to close my eyes and meditate, but the argument nags at my brain. I felt like I should apologize for being snappy. I got up, taking my water bottle, and treaded quietly to his room. As I was about to knock, I heard voices.

"I don't know what to tell you, Bucky, I warned you when you got here that she was a danger to you. She's manipulative and likes to cause drama. I'm sorry she didn't appreciate your kindness." It was Wanda talking to him. I peered through the crack in the door and saw them sitting together in his bed. My eyes narrowed, but I waited to hear what he said in response.

"She's just a bitch, you know? I listened to her whining for weeks after she was shot, and let's be real, she wasn't shot in a super major area, and almost all of us have had worse injuries, I don't know why she's dragging hers out. For attention I guess, like you say, I just thought that she was finally breaking open to be a kind girl, rather than the bitch that everyone knows." The space behind my eyes burned as I listened. I didn't want to hear anymore, but I couldn't step away. I had to hear more.

My sister scoffed at the last part of his sentence.

"Please, she's only kind to the men she lets into her bed. She's better at whoring herself out than being a team member." I almost choke at my sister's comment. I watched Barnes nod in response, grimacing.

"I can't believe I held her hand. You know, I almost liked her. But I don't think I could be with a girl so run-through. I narrowed my eyes. I had finally heard enough. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl and a bag of chips. I grabbed a few handfuls out of the bag and put them in the bowl, then promptly returned to my room, showered, changed into sweats and a hoodie, and decided that I would just settle back into my old routine. Workout, eat by myself, sleep by myself.

No more sleeping next to Barnes. I won't lie, this last month of sleeping next to him were the best sleeps I've gotten in years, but now it wouldn't work anymore, especially after hearing him speak with my sister. I clicked on the TV and flicked through Netflix while munching on my potato chips. An few hours later I woke up to loud knocking on my bedroom door. I must have fallen asleep during whatever shoe I picked, because the tv had shut off on its own. I slipped out of bed and listened to my bare feet tap against the floor as I walked to the door. I opened it, just to see a stressed looking Barnes.

"What do you want?" I snapped tiredly.

"You never came to my room. I was worried that..." I shook my head and pinched my lips together, like I tasted something sour.

"You don't want to listen to anymore of my whining. And you definitely don't want yo lay with someone as run-through as myself. Go to bed, Barnes." I said, tiredly throwing his earlier words back in his face. He looked taken aback at this. I didn't bother waiting for him to respond and I closed the door, flicking the lock down as I turned away and went back to bed. The clock read midnight. I had a few more hours of sleep before I would workout again. I don't care how much running with hurt, I'm going to run. No more of this pussy, fragile, pansy walking and healing bullshit. As I let my thoughts grow foggy, I played the song Crimson and Clover over in my head.

I woke up screaming and thrashing in my sheets. Once I realized I was safe in my bed, I sat upright. I let out a pained groan. I felt like I was dying. My sheets were soaked with sweat, as well as my hair. I swung my legs over to side of my bed, and sat there for a minute. That was the worst nightmare I'd had in a month, and it was terrible.

I had been on the cliff, with my family at the bottom again, but this time instead of an invisible force pushing me away from them, it was Wanda, and Barnes, and the Hydra man who shot me, and the Hydra scientists who experimented on me. They all would punch me, and kick me further away from the edge of the cliff. The Hydra guards that were there would whip me, like they did when I was there. I stood up and grabbed all of my sheets off my bed. I walked to the laundry room with them bundled in my arms.

As I threw them in the wash I replayed the events of my dream over in my head. I got choked up just thinking about it. I decided to think about something else- like where I was going to sleep for the rest of the night.

Barnes' room was out of the question, so it was down to the living room couch or my bedroom floor. I didn't want to be in a common area when everyone woke up, so I settled on my floor. I grabbed the dry sheets I had left on my bed and laid them out on the floor by the window, and threw a pillow there before getting in the shower. There was no way I was sleeping on my sweaty ass head, so I gave it a quick wash and curled into my makeshift bed, leaving it wet and unbrushed.