the team doctor || bucky barnes (EDITING IN PROGRESS)

4.

Edited 8/26/25

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴀᴠᴀʟᴀɴᴄʜᴇ - ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ

"𝐘𝐨𝐮...𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩?"
~

SHE WASN'T GOING TO GIVE UP.

Valerie had to admit—it hadn't been the smoothest start with Bucky. Sure, slamming the door probably came off as a little harsh, but she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The unfortunate part? She hadn't seen him for the past couple of days. She assumed he was recovering from the grueling mission he had just returned from, catching up on sleep wherever he could.

But when a few days stretched into a week, Valerie felt it was her duty as the team doctor to check in.

Soup, she decided, was a safe entry point. Who could possibly slam a door in someone's face for soup in the middle of November?

Admittedly, it was just canned soup, but it was the thought—and the effort—that counted. At least, that's what she told herself as she spooned it carefully into a container. Satisfied, she slung the lid on, grabbed a napkin, and gave a decisive kick to her own door to step out. Her sneakers squeaked slightly against the floor as she made her way to his door, her nerves buzzing with anticipation.

She balanced the container in one hand as she used the other to knock quickly. After a few moments, his door opened again. This time, he looked even more tired. He might have been sleeping when she knocked, honestly.

"Me again!" Valerie called cheerfully, holding the container aloft. "I noticed you've been in there for a while, so I brought you some soup."

Bucky's gaze flicked down to her hands—she was wearing oversized Chewbacca oven mitts—and then back up at her, skepticism written across his face.

"You... made me soup?" he asked slowly, as if testing whether she was serious.

Valerie's chest lifted slightly at his reaction. A small, almost imperceptible shift in his stance told her he was thawing, just a fraction. See? she thought to herself. He just needs a friend.

"Yeah," She replied, a little uneasy as she awaited a reaction.

He looked her dead in the eyes and said, flat and cutting, "That's pathetic."

Then the door slammed—hard—leaving Valerie standing frozen for a moment, disbelief rooted deep in her chest.

Her shock quickly morphed into anger. Who does that? she fumed, the words echoing in her mind. She stomped back to her apartment, each step punctuated by frustration. Once inside, she poured the soup straight down the sink, container and all, letting the hot liquid wash away both the gesture and her pride.

Crossing her arms over her light-blue cardigan, she felt a sting of humiliation and disrespect. So much for a nice gesture, she muttered under her breath.

For a moment, she considered calling Steve to vent—but she remembered how sensitive he was to how others perceived Bucky. Still, the fire inside her didn't subside. His first offense might have been forgivable, but turning down soup? Soup she had made herself—from a can, yes, but still—that was just... uncalled for.

Valerie forced herself to breathe, trying not to let his words and slammed door sting. Yet, inexplicably, they did. She told herself it could very well be his coping mechanism, a shield he'd built over years of pain—but it didn't stop the flush of embarrassment that rose in her chest at being outright rejected.

Still, she resolved to keep her feelings buried. A brave face was her armor, and giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under her skin was out of the question. If anything, she decided, remaining kind despite his hostility would be a quiet victory—a small, personal triumph she could savor in private.