t/w suicidal thoughts
tbh this is a little more of a bucky fic but fuck you you I have a paternal void that must be filled
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Bucky held a small knife to his wrist, sitting on the floor of the kitchen in this studio he'd managed to rent. It was the dead of night, Ellie was asleep.
He'd thought about it several times- he could hang himself, stab himself, slit his wrists- well, wrist, it probably wouldn't be all that effective in he tried to cut into the one made of literal titanium.
And then he'd remember a certain redhead.
A deaf, scared, traumatized, redheaded little girl he was responsible for.
Her name was Ellie. Not 'Hush'. Not 'the girl'. Ellie. Well, actually, Elizabeth, but then again his name was actually James, so who really cares about getting technical about names and nicknames and the like?
Bucky was the one who had to protect this girl. He had to protect her. He cared deeply for the girl- Ellie. Her name was Ellie. He'd rather die than see anything happen to her. He couldn't just leave her alone, not now, not after all these decades of going through all that bullshit together.
He couldn't.
And what would even happen to her?
If she saw him dead, especially by suicide, what would she do?
Kill herself? Run? Just stay there till someone finds her? What?
Bucky didn't want to know the answer to that question.
He was the one who comforted her, held her and hummed for her, when she woke up from a nightmare, just about every night. Ellie followed him around like a lost puppy, just about always holding onto his hand, wrist, arm, sleeve. If she couldn't see him, she freaked. Bucky knew that that level of attachment probably wasn't healthy, but he wasn't entirely sure how to handle it. And if he left her alone in the apartment- what if somebody came for them and only found her? What then?
Bucky didn't want to know the answer to that question.
He still held the knife against his wrist.
He wasn't gonna do anything, I think we've established that, he was just holding it there for the sake of holding it at this point.
Soon enough, he heard rustling from the bed, followed by the sound of a hand smacking around on the bed, followed by whining.
Bucky put the knife on the kitchen counter as he stood up, and walked over to the redhead.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm right here, Ellie, I didn't leave you." He spoke softly as he sat in front of Ellie, as if tone mattered when it came to her.
She started crying, Bucky held her in his lap, rocking her back and forth, as if she were a small child, gently rubbing her back. He began humming, really the only way he could comfort her when she couldn't see his lips.
"It's okay, Ellie, it's all gonna be okay."
Admittedly, when he spoke, it was a lot more about comforting himself.
