Ascendancy

Chapter 5

              (Ella in picture)                                    

        I stand outside his bedroom, pacing the hallway and turning the ipod around in my sweaty palms. The doctor is checking Bucky's vitals one more time. Then I'll go in. I will finally meet my patient. Well, besides the one time I nearly got killed. Hopefully that doesn't affect our relationship to much.

        The door opens and the black doctor, aka, Marc Greene, walks out. He says in his heavy Wakandan accent, "He's doing good. You can go in now." His stride is long as he starts down the hall, but Greene then turns back toward me. "Good luck."

        "Thanks," I respond.

        I stare at the door. This is the beginning of a long journey, and I'm nervous. But I open the door, hesitantly, nonetheless.

         Bucky's room is a mirror of mine: white and simple, although, his windows are closed. The soldier's long form is laying across the once crisp bed. Changed into a black shirt and sweatpants, Bucky's skull is rested against the headboard. His eyes are closed, but when I step into the room, my feet stepping lightly on the hardwood floor, they snap open.

        "Hi," I say timidly. But then I realize it's time to get into business mode. Business mode is different for me, however. I'm required to act as a friend but it still means being the initiator. It's not in my nature, however, to be extremely forward. So this added pressure just adds more butterflies to my stomach.

        I strive forward with feigned confidence, walking straight up to him. Grabbing his hand and shaking it, I'm a little taken aback when he doesn't reciprocate the action. Rather, Bucky pulls his hand away, his dull eyes steering clear of my face. Sucking in a breath, I try to muster up a good introduction. "Um, Hi. I'm Ella Walin." Obviously. "I'm going to be working with you these next few months. This is just an introduction, though, considering all you've been through today."

        "Right," Is all he says in reply.

        I try forcing myself to be engaging. But, my mind blanks and I've basically lost any good communication skills I once had. If only he would communicate! The regret from earlier's incident emanates from him: Bucky won't make eye contact or bodily contact, and seems as if he's trying to ignore my existence. And by ignoring me, ignoring what he did.

        "Yes. Um, so I brought you something." Stuff! People like stuff. So, give people stuff, equals people like you. Logic. I hand him the ipod.

        He stares at it and asks blankly, "What is this?"

        Oh, right. I guess since Hydra had him, Bucky didn't get to see a lot of everyday modern technology. "It's an ipod," I clarify. "It plays music."

        "Oh." Is all he says. He and Natahsa: both not big talkers. I decide to not give him personal space, seeing as he isn't feeling any more comfortable with me standing across from him.

        Bucky shirks back slightly when I plop down next to him on the bed, but I don't care. I take the player from his hands, and the little screen lights up with some African name. "On it is music that will help orientate your brain and nervous system." I explain, showing him how to use the ipod at the same time. "It's difficult for people to talk about their experiences when everything has been messed with. But don't worry, it's not all spa music!" I throw in an odd chuckle. "I put in a couple of my favorite songs." I crack out a friendly smile, but Bucky just continues to look at the piece of electronic in my hand. Hopefully he really likes Twenty One Pilots. Then maybe he'll like me because I introduced their music to his now-TOPless ears. "You probably didn't listen to much when you were on the run."