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• Bucky's POV • ~ The Previous Day ~
♫ The Unforgiven II - Metallica.
I stay silent in the elevator while a bombardment of questions are thrown my way. Clint, Nat, even Steve. Their voices blend into white noise as I become more and more overwhelmed by what Nadia has just revealed on the Hangar.
That was quite the bombshell and to be honest, I don't know how to feel right now. I can't process that big a revelation and I automatically feel my fight or flight senses kicking in as I try and digest that this woman, this stranger, is the reason I'm a free man.
Mostly I feel guilt that all this time I have been rebuilding my life while she has been suffering.
The questions lean heavy on me, like another brick is added to my back with each one that's asked. The second the doors slide open I push my way out, again retreating quickly to my room and closing the door behind me. I let my head rest back on the closed door and huff out a huge sigh of relief to once again be alone. I feel every vein in my body pulse with a sensation that I don't know how to register and a clammy layer works it's way along my forehead the more I think about it.
The quiet doesn't last for long as Steve slides himself through the door and closes it sharply behind him, shutting off any more questions that come flooding in from the crack. I know everyone means well, but they also love drama and gossip, something I am not at all interested in indulging in.
Steve looks at me with his lips pressed into a fine line.
Sympathy.
He can tell this has thrown me. How could he not? I'm an exasperated mess.
"I know, Buddy" he acknowledges, not needing to say anything further and pulls me into a tight, friendly hug.
I try to push the news to the back of my mind and tap his shoulder, thanking him for being there for me but cutting the affection short, physical touch being something that makes me emotionally uncomfortable coming from anyone, even my closest friend.
He pulls away and furrows his brow as he leans back against my dresser, folding his arms. I turn the conversation to something else, something more important than my confused feelings and sweaty palms. I haven't really spoken to anyone since before the mission began, to busy constantly making sure she was alright.
"The man at that place. Not the owner, Stefano. The other one that held him up, just before we got on the carrier? With the white hair?" I begin and Steve nods, remembering him.
We never got a clear view of the man from across the battlefield and vast gardens but he triggered deeply forgotten memories for me.
