The Fluffy Adventures of Yelena and Bucky

Part 17

   Alpine curled up on him, her warmth radiating through his clothes and pressing against him as she purred. Her tiny ears twitched gently. Bucky's fingers massaged her back as he shifted to remove a book from under his back and place it on the bedside table. He forgot to put it back on the shelf last week after finishing reading it. 

   She got up on her legs and leaped gracefully down to the carpeted floor. "Where are you going, love?" Bucky asked her, but she didn't answer, as is expected of a cat. 

   Pacing near the door, she stared back at him intelligently, her white tail brushing the door. 

   Bucky pulled himself up from the bed and opened the door for her. "Go on," he urged. She swept past him as if she were a royal, which was cute because she was so tiny. Bucky smiled as she strolled toward the living room, tail swishing. 

   Leaning on the wall, he watched her stand regally on the couch cushions, gazing up at the TV curiously. He felt as if a change was coming soon. Something would be different, and it would be a good, new thing. Bucky wanted it so bad.

   He hated being the way he was, especially after the last few years. Trying to appear normal while catching up on his family's past that was now history from decades ago was the hardest part, because every time he saw a grainy video of his siblings or the funeral of his mom, a coldness spread in his heart.

   Seeing them move on from his "death" hurt more than it probably should. After all, they had their own lives to live and they lived them well. 

   His time with his best friends in the world had come to an end, but it still felt like a blow to the gut when he thought about it. 

   But Yelena's time with family shouldn't be up. She should have people to laugh and cry with. People who would laugh if she tripped but beat up anyone who disrespects her, even though she can take care of herself.

   He wanted to watch her eyes light up, knowing that she's not alone.

   But Bucky couldn't give that to her, could he?

   He felt so confused. There wa a gaping hole in him that needed to be filled.

   Yelena took a deep breath, curled up against the wall.

   A knock came at the door.

   "U - uhm." She sat up, completely undprepared. The wardrobe was completely empty, too. "What is it?"

   "You alright? If you want, we can watch a movie in the living room,"

   "Oh," she heard hearself whisper, and felt touched by his gentle tone. 

   He sounded calm.

   "A movie would be nice, just - just give me a minute or two... And Bucky?"

   "Yes?"

   Her words slipped into Russian. It felt more comfortable and natural. "[I need hot chocolate... please.]"

   "I'll get right on it," he replied.

   "[Thanks.]"

   His footsteps receded down the hallway quietly, and Yelena slumped back down on the wall, the soothing effect his voice had on her fading. 

   She felt like a monster disguised as a guest in a traumatized man's house, a monster who can't help but complicate things by kissing him.  

   Yelena was starting to notice that Bucky sometimes looked at her as if she were a miracle, a shining light. Was that really how he saw her? 

   With every ungodly act she'd ever committed, Yelena was quite sure there was no hope of counting them anymore. 

   A sob shook her, the hurt taking her whole world by the fire and storm inside. She was hurt, and she had taken it out on her vitims. That was how she dealt with a lot of things. And it accomplished nothing, every time. 

   "Yelena?"

   She couldn't answer. She could barely breath and wasn't sure how to stop herself from sobbing and shaking. 

   "Can I come in?" Bucky asked.

   Yelena nodded, even if he didn't see. 

   The door inched open, and Bucky towered over her curled up petite frame... then bent down, crouching to meet her eyes. 

   Feeling snot, Yelena covered her mouth and nose. Her mouth was making weird noises that resembled whimpers.

  All confidence seemed to be sucked from her her body as she lay there.

   She couldn't stand the silence. 

   Bucky moved, and sat beside her, almost close enough to touch. hair fell over his eyes, but he brushed it back and looked at her. 

   "The hot chocolate is ready, it's on the counter."

   Another sob racked its way through her, and her shoulders hunched as she shyed away from him. 

   "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked her, his voice almost soft enough to be a whisper, his words only for her. "Please just tell me a little,"

   "Bucky-" Yelena whispered, suddenly gravitaiting toward him. This was Bucky. She could trust him. "I feel like... I don't know myself. I've killed so many people, I think it took away parts of me. Bucky, I want the holes to be filled, but I made them. I want a family like you had."
  
   His shoulder touched her's, and a familiar and welcome zing raced through her body. 

   "I did this to myself even after I left the Red Room. I told myself it would be fine, that I was strong enough to assassinate those targets. And I really have been strong enough... until now... It's catching up to me. You always had a loveing family before you became the Winter Soldier, but at a young age they started making me into a killer. That's all I ever was made for. It... It's a lot."

   Bucky met her eyes, then looked away, emotion cracking through the calm expression that he carried into the room with. "Yelena, I know how you feel about not knowing yourself, because that's all I've been trying to do the last decade. I still haven't gotten there, and it makes me so sad... but we'll get there someday. I may have been controlled, but I still did all of it."

   He shifted, his arm coming up and resting around her shoulders. Yelena reluctantly leaned closer to him, welcoming his warmth.

   "It's okay that you're struggling, and that just means that you'll be so strong when you complete the challenge. I think you need therapy, too."
   
   "Mhmm,"

   "And as for a family... well, you've got me."