Destruction ━ Bucky Barnes [2]

11 ━ EXHAUSTION

DESTRUCTION.
( chapter eleven. )

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Edited 12/27/2015 @3:29 AM
Edited 10/01/2018 @1:20 AM
Edited 05/08/2025 @2:21 AM

UPON THEIR ARRIVAL BACK AT THE Avenger's Tower, Andrea stepped back to watch as Clint was rushed out of the quin-jet. The guilt was overwhelming. There was little she could've done to prevent it, and yet, the knowledge did little to ease the weight on her shoulders. The responsibility.

How many more failures would she have to carry on her back before she completely fell apart? Before she stopped trying at all? To give up was the last thing she wanted, but as each day passed, the weight of all she'd done only seemed to get harder and harder to carry.

  As the rest of the team headed inside, Andrea found herself lingering within the jet. Had her little stunt at the base ended any worse, she would've been done. No more missions. No more Avengers. It would've been over for her.

  That is, if she even bothered trying to survive at all.

  The thought scared her. To know that she had been so ready to throw her life away was terrifying, in spite of everything that had been demanding her to stay. She had a life and a purpose long before this desire for revenge. Beyond HYDRA and her long history of pain and suffering.

  And the way Steve had looked at her when he saw that wound...

  Andy knew she had to do more. Distractions weren't going to heal this rage inside her. There was no moving on without help— and the proper kind. The kind Tony had been insisting she seek out for months, with his less-than-subtle hints.

  Andrea reached for her phone, almost nervous as she debated the entire thing. She knew it might be long shot, considering she hardly ever spoke. It took weeks to even mention the most gruesome parts to Steve. But, a visit to the therapist Tony had recommended couldn't possibly leave her more worse-for-wear.

At least, that's what Andy hoped.

But, did she really want to let out everything she'd been trying so hard to hold in? She could hardly even begin to imagine opening up with her friends, nonetheless a stranger. How could she possibly expect to receive comfort or ease from this?

  Andrea, still sitting on the bench where Nat had stitched her up, hung her head as she struggled through the internal debate. If she didn't get help now, she knew what came next, and a breakdown in front of the whole world was the last thing she needed. She was already a social pariah as it was.

  It took a long while to work up the nerve, but after finally making a decision, Andy stepped outside to make the call. The phone rang once, twice, before the receptionist finally answered. Andy didn't bother giving her the chance to speak, lest she claim 'wrong number' and hang up.