I'm a Lost Cause

Chapter 3

Trigger Warnings: Please read at your own risk. This chapter has mentioning of  death, suicide, and wanting to harm themselves. This chapter is rather short and depressive, but an important to piece of Ava and James' journey.

Bucky leads me into my apartment and guides me through to my bedroom early in the morning the day after everything. I falter as we reach the blood stain on my gray rug. It was sad, I really loved that rug. He guides me around it and into my bedroom, "the sooner we get to your room we can pack a bag for you and get you to my place."

I nod as we reach my bedroom and I feel my body shaking again from the traumatic event. He reaches into my closet and begins to pull out clothes, showing me to make sure it was okay to pack. I just kind of sat on the edge of my bed frozen. He sighs and fills the bag with all that he thinks I'll need. He then takes my hand, "okay, come on."

I nod and follow him slowly through the apartment. He reaches behind me as we reach the end of the hall, picking me up. I gasp from the shock and wrap my arms around his shoulders and burrow my face into his neck. He walks us out, leaving the horror behind us again. With one hand he re-locks my door. When we reached the elevator I thought he'd set me down once inside, but he didn't. He held me the whole way down and out to the car parked illegally next to the curb. Plus being a detective in this town, you tended to abuse the privileges of parking wherever you wanted. He sets me in the front seat and tosses the bag into the backseat. He gets into the driver seat, reaching over to grab my hand, pulling it to his lips, kissing it softly.

We reach his apartment and he leads me in towards the bedroom. He cups my face, "you want me to start a bath for you or do you want to shower?"

I shrug and move to slide into his frame again. He was always my safe space and he would always be my safe space. He sighs and kisses the side of my head, "I'm not going anywhere, love. What do you want to do? You really need to get cleaned up from everything. I know they cleaned you up at the hospital, but you need to wash it all away."

"Bath," I say softly. He was right. I needed to wash away everything that had happened last night. A bath would do me good, but I don't know if I had the strength to do it all. He nods and leads me into his bathroom. He lets me go and sits on the edge of the tub and starts the water. I began to peel the two pieces of clothing I wore free, standard issued hospital scrubs in a pale green. Brock had cut my personal clothes off and when I got to the hospital I was in nothing, only covered by a sheet. The hospital was kind enough to hand me some scrubs they had for their staff. I step in slowly, curling up into a ball with my arms wrapped around my knees as the water continues to fill around me. He goes to step out and I look at him terrified, "stay."

"I'm just going to get out of the blood stained suit," he says as he works on unbuttoning the dress shirt he wore.

I nod and rest my chin on my arms and sigh. He came back in quickly, a pair of sweatpants and a plain white tee. He kneels down next to the tub after grabbing some towels for me and setting them to the side. I look at him, broken I'm sure of it, "thank you."

He nods and takes a washcloth, dipping it into the water and spreading it up to my shoulders and down. Tears fell slowly from my eyes and I took a few shaky breaths occasionally. Bucky never touched me in any way that was too intimate, keeping a respectful boundary after everything. He just let me cry and ran the hot water over my skin.

I knew it was eating him inside; he couldn't get to do it any different, but we'd worry about that later. Right now I just wished he had killed me because the pain was unreal. The hospital was afraid to prescribe me anything for the pain because of my previous addiction to pain medicine and cocaine. They were afraid to give me any sedatives as well, afraid I'd overdose on them. They told me to contact my therapist today and get on something that they recommended. Bucky said he'd call for me if I didn't have the strength. He knew I would be too much of a wreck to do anything.

I was thankful for him to help me through this, but in the back of my mind I wondered if he'd kick me out of his life again. I was just a lost cause. I was better off six feet under. I was broken. He deserves someone better than the broken pieces I was. I was broken before because of Brock, but now I was shattered into a million pieces just as I was beginning to repair myself.