Cherry || b.barnes

47 || Truths and Lies

The calm of his cerulean eyes is morphing into a storm on the great sea. Golden hair disheveled, his blue helmet dangles on one of his large hands. People are being pulled to either wall like with a magnet, making his way free in silence so his footsteps are the only sound filling the room, carrying the weight of his tensed, muscled body. I swear I have never seen Steven so worked up in my life before. 

And James obviously neither. I was seeking for reassurance and safety when I looked at him, but he seems more like a puppy who ripped their owner's pillow and now yelps and has its ears lied back in the manner of guilt as he comes home. I think he's pretty lucky not to have touched me in any way since his best fruend entered the hospital's entrance. 

»Am I speaking Latin?« Steve asks, his voice booming through the wide corridor. »Get her a doctor, now.«

»You know« Jay murmurs into my direction, never leaving his best friend out of his eyes as said person closes the distance in between us. »I know you know your father mostly from the newspapers and stuff, and he really does seem like a goodie, but I think I'm in deep shit now.«

»Really, Sherlock?« I ask him back, biting my lower lip in the next second and trying to squeeze away the pain pounding in my back with my eyes. »Out of all opportunities, this would've been my last guess.«

»I'm kind of serious. I've seen that look one time in my entire life and trust me, it didn't end well for the guy. Maybe you should write my testimony.«

The rushing doctor interrupts our small conversation, just a second before Steven reaches us. From up close, the thunderous hurricane in his eyes that seem to have lost some of their color has lightnings of worry peeking through. »What, for the love of God, has happened?«

»I, uh,« I start before James can say anything, admit anything. Directly speaking in French, I really do hope the doctor gets it all and won't ask me again later about it. »Fell down the stairs and landed suboptimal.«

»What were you doing upstairs? There's only James's bedroom.« Steve asks, jaw clenched as he follows me while I follow the doctor, a black-skinned man who's maybe two inches smaller than me in a wide, long white robe. Everything still smells of disinfectant. James is last in the row, and I can't tell by his aura that he's more than just uncomfortable.

Relatable. »I searched for... James has taken the brush upstairs from the bathroom and I wanted to get it. I slipped on my way downstairs.« Obviously, Steve hasn't heard about my bed yet. Not from Stark. He'd be way more dramatic and James a head shorter. Gotta give that genius credits for this at some point.

I feel Steven's eyes boring into my back. »Really? I happen to know this guy for a century, and if I learned one thing it's that he's not sharing his brush with anyone.«

»I, uh,« James chimes in, and for fuck's sake, I can tell by the way his voice spins around that he's lying and if I can do it, Steve can, too, »changed my mind and took it with me because the lighting situation is better.«

Watching Steven exhale sharply from the corner of my view whilst observing Jay, I follow the doctor into one of the rooms on the right of the sterile, long corridor. »You are going to drive back, my friend, and get her some clothes and food. She's soaking your shirt through, if you didn't notice. By the way, this is family only.«

»You can stay outside, too« I grunt, having the doctor wait for me in the door as I turn, biting my tongue. »I don't want you to see me undressed.«

»Fine« the blonde gives in, his voice much softer when he talks to me. »I'll wait here.« Sitting down on a nearby chair, he scrutinizes James sharper than I'm used to. I almost flinch with him, fear that Stark might opened his mouth against all odds. Maybe it's just the lie and nothing more. Hopefully. Maybe he's just angry because we're both lying to him and he knows it. »Didn't I tell you to go fetch some things, Bucky?«