Hell Bound

Ten

Bucky stayed in the bathroom for an unusually long time. Once I finished with him, I sent Graham up the stairs to get ready for the day while I finished cleaning up. I didn't start to get worried until I was about to head up the stairs. I heard the unmistakable sound of shattering glass. I paused at the end of the stairs, but there was nothing else.

I wanted to go comfort him. I wanted to talk to him. But the shattered glass had me frozen to the spot. I didn't know what happened to him while we were apart. They'd taken him away again, scrambled his brain. They could have done anything. Even if they hadn't, sometimes it was difficult to figure out who I was talking to. Even when I could see a touch of humor or life in his eyes. I always knew Bucky would never be Bucky again. The Winter Soldier would always be part of him. And I couldn't always tell what would bring him back.

Then I wondered if the glass was my window. What if he was leaving again? Now that he'd gotten help, he had no use for me anymore. But I knew he wouldn't get very far. It took a lot of work just to get him to the bathroom, and he'd left all his weapons stuffed into my couch cushions or sitting on the table within easy reach.

I stepped back into the hallway and cautiously approached the door.

"Bucky?" I asked. "Are you okay?" He took a moment to answer, and I was almost convinced he'd left. But then I heard him shift.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay."

"I'll fix it."

"Don't worry about it. Just—come get some rest."

"I will."

"I'll go find you something to wear. And a toothbrush. Is that okay?"

"Yes."

I reluctantly left him alone and headed back up the stairs to find him clothes. I still had the things he'd left behind from the last time he'd stayed with me. But they were buried in my closet, and I didn't have time to dig them out. So I grabbed my largest pair of sweats and found a new toothbrush in the hall closet. I brought them downstairs and tapped on the door.

"I have some sweats for you," I told him. The door popped open, and I slid them into the space. I only caught a glimpse of my shattered mirror before he shut the door again.

"Where's the kid?" he asked from inside.

"In the shower. Why?"

"I don't trust him."

"I know." I waited for him to get dressed, and neither of us spoke again until the door opened. He stepped into the hall wearing my sweatpants and looking back at me from behind a veil of damp hair. "Are you ready to lie down?" He nodded once. I went to his side and wrapped my arm around his chest. I helped him hobble back to the couch, where he sat down with a huff. "What happened?" I asked, reaching for the blanket so I could tuck him in like a patient. He shook his head.

"Overthinking. I lost control," he explained, running his hand over his metal arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's just a mirror."

"It could have been you." I put my hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down to the pillow. He laid down without a fight and allowed me to pull the blanket over him.

"But it wasn't," I reminded him. He didn't say anything else. So I left him to get ready for work.

When I left the bathroom a little while later, the kid was still sitting in the spare bedroom. He was on the futon with one of my books propped up on his lap.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Reading," he told me. Like this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You could have gone back downstairs." He gave me a sarcastic laugh.

"I probably would have died before I got to the landing." I rolled my eyes.

"He's not going to kill you." I turned toward my bedroom.

"Easy for you to say. He likes you." I turned back around and nodded, thinking about my now shattered bathroom mirror.

"Just—try not to make any sudden movements."

"Or say anything about anything ever."

"That too." I reached for my shoes and met him back in the hall. "Come on. Let's go."

"Do you mind if I hide behind you like a human shield?"

"Go right ahead."

He followed me down the stairs, and we found Bucky right where I'd left him. Only it looked as if he'd actually fallen asleep while we were busy, but he woke up when we came down. He watched us, only slightly threatening, as we got ready to leave. Once I had my shoes on and a clean jacket, I sat on the coffee table in front of him.

"I'll be back later," I told him. "You better not go anywhere."

"I wouldn't be able to," he reminded me.

"Doesn't mean you won't try. Just—stick around. Help yourself to whatever you want. Try to rest as much as you can."

"I will." I nodded quickly and headed out the door. Graham hurried to keep up with me as he lugged my heavy meeting box in his hands. We didn't say anything until I pulled out onto the street. The radio came on as the car started. It started in the middle of a broadcast about the explosion. I reached out to shut it off. Graham glanced at me and stayed quiet. For about half a minute.

"I saw what he did to the mirror," he said, chewing on his thumbnail and looking out the window. I took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel.

"He has a hard time controlling it."

"Controlling what?"

"I can't really explain it."

"And you trust that he's not going to turn that arm on you?" I hesitated to answer but eventually nodded. Even if I wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't turn the arm on me in a moment of lost control, I didn't want anyone to know the thought had crossed my mind.

"I trust him with my life."

"That makes one of us," he muttered.