find me

19. threat

The air was crisp and cold against Bucky's skin as he walked out of the door and onto the sidewalk. The small hair at the back of his neck rose quickly, a shiver running through his spine. He had no idea what time it was. It was getting lighter, and he could hear a few chirps coming from the trees above him, but the moon was still bright against the intense blue of the sky, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't sleep. When he got into bed the night before, he thought the missing presence of her warm body next to him would bring back the nightmares, but his brain was so busy processing everything that had happened, he couldn't even fall asleep. He spent the night tossing around, one second reliving every touch that was shared between them, while the next being reminded that it was never going to happen again. He couldn't believe it possible, but this kind of torture was just as bad as his familiar nightmares.

The thought of not being near her was unbearable. He tried compelling his brain to diverge towards a different direction, but his obsessive mind kept running back to her.

Natalie.

Whatever spell she had put him under, he wasn't sure he could ever live without it anymore.

He didn't want to say goodbye. He didn't want to see her eyes as she said her goodbyes, tears verging at the edge, ready to fall down with just one bat of her lashes. He knew the moment he stepped outside of the house that he wasn't going to come back to say goodbye. The image of her eyes was imprinted in his brain, the ghost of her fingers running through his hair lingered on his skin, and an agonising pain crushed his chest even at the mere thought of her leaving. It was childish maybe, yes... but the need to get away was insurmountable. The pain was unbearable. He couldn't deal with it, he needed to get it out of his system. He needed a way to alleviate that crushing pressure that was threatening to break his lungs.

He drove aimlessly for hours before he found himself in the parking lot of his work place. His mind had probably switched off and gone into auto-pilot, going with the route that he had done thousands of times before.

What was he doing?

He was lost, confused, teared apart by feelings. He felt like he had lost one of the only things that ever made sense to him. Someone who made him feel alive.

And now she was gone.

Suddenly a very vivid memory crossed Bucky's mind. Sometime after his grandpa died, Steve and he were sat in a dark booth inside a pub; loud jazz music was playing so they had to raise their voices to speak. Bucky remembered very clearly the conversation they were having.

"You know, when I had trouble sleeping, back when I had just lost Peggy, I used to go to Goldie's and spend hours just punching feelings out of my system. It was therapeutic in a way, it didn't always work but it was a start. Nick would come in from time to time and give me a talk on how there was a whole world out there that needed to be discovered. I used to hate him for that, but he was right, you know. The world doesn't stop existing, no matter how dark your thoughts are right now or how hopeless you feel. The world's still gonna be out there, fighting."

Bucky nodded slowly, playing with the condensation on the glass of beer in his hand. "I remember teaching you how to throw a punch at Goldie's. You could barely lift your fists up." 

"Yeah." Steve chuckled, indulging for a moment in the memories of a simpler time. "How old were we?"

Bucky scoffed, his eyebrows pinched together as he tried to do the math. "Fuck, I was... what, like twenty-two? Maybe twenty-three."

"Seems like a life time ago." Steve said pensively.

"It was." Bucky said under his breath as he brought the pint of beer to his lips. He cringed as the liquid ran down his throat. "You know what, I could use some punching right about now."