𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑 | 𝐁. 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 |

twenty five

IT had been two days, and Bucky feels like he's living a nightmare he can't wake up from. He's watched Madeleine shut herself off from everyone, her warmth and laughter replaced with a painful, empty silence. She hasn't said a word to him—she hasn't spoken to anyone, really.

 Even Wanda, who usually knows how to draw her out, has been met with cold shoulders and blank stares. And while the rest of the team is clueless about the cause, Bucky feels the weight of it in every silence, every blank look, every painful moment of being ignored.

He's spent the last two days trying everything he can think of to reach her. She's always been quick to forgive, always willing to talk things through, but this time, he feels the weight of her hurt pushing him further and further away. Every time he tries to catch her eye, she looks through him like he's invisible. Every time he opens his mouth to apologize or explain, she walks out before he can say a single word. It's tearing him up inside, this distance she's built between them, but he knows he's to blame. And he doesn't know how to fix it.

When they both end up in the kitchen at the same time this afternoon, his heart leaps—maybe he can finally say something, break through the wall between them. 

But when she turns around and sees him, she freezes for a moment, her expression blank and unreadable. She looks right at him, yet somehow, she's looking right through him.

 Bucky takes a step forward, his voice low and almost pleading, "Maddy, please..."

She doesn't respond. Doesn't even acknowledge him.

 Instead, she reaches for what she needs and moves around him like he's nothing more than an obstacle in her way. And then she's gone, leaving him standing alone in the kitchen, the weight of her absence pressing on him even more heavily than before. His shoulders slump, and he grips the counter, swallowing down the rising feeling of despair. If he could go back and undo it, if he could make it so that night never happened, he would. He wishes he'd never listened to Tony, never gone looking for a meaningless distraction that ended up costing him everything that mattered.

Later, on his way to his room, he passes her closed bedroom door, and he hears it—the faint, heartbreaking sound of her crying. 

It's quiet, barely there, but it's enough to make his heart shatter all over again. Every sob she's holding in feels like it's stabbing into him, and he presses a hand to his own door, feeling tears sting his eyes. He wants to go in, to hold her, to make it right, but he knows she doesn't want him there. 

Not now. Maybe not ever.

Just as he's standing there, drowning in regret, Tony comes around the corner and stops in his tracks when he sees Bucky's expression. 

Tony frowns, genuinely concerned for once. "Okay, what's going on with you two? You look like you haven't slept in days, and she's... well, she's acting like a ghost."

Bucky snaps. "This is your fault, Stark," he growls, his voice thick with barely restrained anger. "If you hadn't told me to 'find a distraction' that night, I wouldn't have... I wouldn't have done any of this." He can feel the bitterness on his tongue, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggles to keep his emotions in check.

Tony's brows furrow, confusion quickly shifting to a stunned realization. "Wait, are you saying Maddy's the girl you needed a distraction from?"

Bucky doesn't answer, just gives Tony a look that says it all. The weight of everything that's happened, the pain he's caused her, feels like a crushing blow to his chest.

 Tony's expression shifts, his voice softening with an apology of its own. "And I sent you right to Roxanne, didn't I? Shit, If I'd known it was her Bucky, I never would've said that. I just thought it was some random chick we didn't know about! If I knew it was Mads..."