Hell Bound

Thirty-Nine

After I dropped Graham off for his first day of work, I headed back home to prepare for my meeting. The week was almost over, and I wasn't looking forward to another long, boring weekend. Technically, the job at the VA wasn't enough to cover my bills and basic needs, but Stark wouldn't let me buy anything when I lived with him. And he'd paid me far more than needed. So I had a lot built up. But I was going to have to find a job anyway. Just in case Hydra never came for me at all. I might as well make myself useful.

When I got home, I headed right for the kitchen to make myself another cup of coffee. It wasn't the first cup I'd had, but I wanted to be able to get through a meeting without Graham's help. I poured myself a mug and then turned around. There was a figure standing in the archway. I jumped and dropped the cup, splattering hot coffee all over the floor.

"Goddamn it!" I said.

"Sorry," Bucky replied, stepping forward to help me clean up. I bent down to pick up the shattered remains of my favorite purple mug.

"What are you doing here, Buck?" I asked as I carried the chunks of ceramic to the trash.

"Stitches need to come out."

"You should have stayed an extra day or two. They were only supposed to stay in for a week at most. At least for someone with normal healing."

"I know, but..." He didn't finish his sentence, so I went back to cleaning up spilled coffee.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. I knew you were going to leave."

"Were you upset?"

I dropped a towel on the floor and looked him over. He was wearing the clothes I'd given him, plus the jacket he'd brought. I did manage to get the blood stains out of it, but there were still rips and tears from all the glass and shrapnel. I never got around to fixing them. He was wearing a baseball cap and had his dark hair tucked behind his ears. Trying to appear normal and inconspicuous.

"What do you want me to say, Bucky? You want me to tell you I wasn't upset? That it didn't hurt? That seeing you in my kitchen again a week later makes everything okay? You would know if I was lying." He knelt down in front of me and cleaned up the mess. I stayed standing where I was.

"I didn't want to hurt you," he said. I sighed.

"I know. But I don't think it was avoidable. I knew you were going to leave. I knew you'd do it in the middle of the night. I also knew I couldn't come with you. I wasn't surprised. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt to wake up alone."

"You told me not to say goodbye."

"I know that too. But I don't know. Maybe I was just hoping for something—more. Some kind of acknowledgment that it wasn't—over."

He stood and ran the pad of his thumb along my jaw. It felt nice to see him again, but what I really wanted to do was wrap my arms around him and beg him not to go. I felt like an idiot. I knew what he was doing and why. But it didn't mean I had to like it. Then, of course, I remembered what Graham said. It took a lot of love and self-control not to be completely selfish. My desire to have Bucky stay was selfish, and I had to let it go.

"I'm not mad at you," I insisted. "I'm just..." I put my hand on my chest and squeezed my shirt in my fingers. He nodded without me having to explain.

"I probably shouldn't have come back."

"No. I'm glad you came." I reached for the coffee-soaked towel and passed him so I could dump it in the sink. "I'll get my stuff. Just go lie down on the couch." He nodded and headed back toward the hallway.

I got my kit and made sure I had what I needed to pull his stitches out. When I returned to the living room, he was sitting on the couch. He didn't move until I motioned for him to take his stuff off. He was wearing the red shirt I'd bought him. The backpack was sitting on the chair. Since he didn't bring it into the kitchen with him, I wondered if it was sitting there when I got home, and I just didn't notice.