What Fades Away

chapter 15: when we all fall asleep, where do we go?

a/n: angst, mentions of wounds...getting down to it, y'all!

The rhythmic sound of fists hitting leather echoes throughout down the hall, like a metronome keeping time. One, two, threefour. Mara tentatively walks to the gym, leaving everyone else to make a plan for what comes next. They know they can't just accuse someone of being a serial killer, nor can they just accuse an NYPD officer of being an accomplice. There's no proof, nothing other than circumstance.

She slides the door open, stepping onto the soft, padded floor. Bucky is in the far corner, pummeling a punching bag as sweat drips down his face. Sam told Mara that Bucky needed her and needed someone to talk him down. He hasn't turned her way, despite Mara knowing that he can hear her every step.

"Bucky," she says as she approaches the side of the small boxing ring.

The super soldier doesn't look up, his fists repeatedly pounding the bag. Little streaks of blood stain the brown leather as he puts nearly his full strength into every hit.

"Buck, stop…"

The chain that holds the equipment creaks under the pressure as he continues. Mara walks around the ring, right up to him. Her hands go to the other side of the bag, pushing against it, knowing it's the only way he'd listen.

"JAMES. STOP," she commands, using all the force she can muster. 

Mara closes her eyes and braces herself behind the bag for a hit that never comes. When she peeks through her lashes, cold blue eyes bore into her, and she nearly cowers at the expression on Bucky's face.

"Give me your hand," she murmurs.

"It's fine, Mara," he grumbles, wiping his bloody knuckles on a towel lying on a nearby bench.

"Yes, everything is clearly fine," Mara replies sarcastically. "We need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Bucky grips the towel tightly and stalks towards the door, refusing to look her in the eye. He's worried that if he does, he'll crumble into a million pieces.

"I know what you're thinking right now, and you need to stop."

He huffs out a forced laugh, back still towards Mara with his hands on his hips.

"Sam already gave me the whole routine, Mara."

Bucky goes to keep walking to the door, but Mara's hand grips his forearm tightly, spinning him on his heel back to her. The muscles of his jaw are clenched tight as he looks up at the ceiling.

"Stop it, listen to me…" she pleads, forcing Bucky to meet her stare.

"What? What are you going to say? That it wasn't my fault? That it wasn't me? I pulled the fucking trigger. I killed the one other person in this world who wasn't HYDRA who knew about me. That could have saved me," he fumes, voice breaking towards the end as the lump grows in his throat.

"Bucky…"

She grasps his hand, feeling the muscles jump as he flinches when her fingers touch the broken skin.

"I know for a fact everything Sam told you is one hundred percent true."

Mara kisses the sweat soaked skin of his arm before wrapping her arms around his torso. He hesitates, but pulls her close, inhaling the sweet smell of her shampoo. Mara squeezes him tightly as she looks up at him. The cold stare  in his eyes is gone, replaced by the much warmer gaze that she has fallen in love with.

"We found something out about the murders, well, Peter did at least," Mara says as the ball of anxiety grows larger in her stomach. "But when I tell you, you gotta stay calm."