8:00 pm
Tower
"How're you feeling?" Steve questioned as soon as she entered the living room.
"Good. Very good, thank you," she looked around. Everyone was there except Bucky, of course. "How's Bucky?"
"Unconscious," Natasha stated. "But he'll be okay. And he's stable, which is always a plus."
"You can see him if you'd like?" Tony tried.
"Maybe tomorrow," she paused and sat down in an empty space. She looked at her hands: one new, one old. One with the guilt of murder, and one without any sins.
They were quiet, waiting for her to expand. She looked up and around the room. They were watching her, the assassin. The 'Villainess.'
"So do you people eat dinner or?"
"Oh yeah, where're my manners," Tony stood and went to the kitchen. She followed expectantly. The rest strikes casual conversation again.
"So how're you really feeling?"
Tony pulled his sacred shawarma out of the fridge, in a little take-out bag. He placed it in the microwave and pressed some buttons.
He leaned back on the counter.
"Sick," she stated quietly. "It's not about the hand, believe me I love it. But it's horrible to be here. I know no one says it, but I don't belong here."
"Bucky didn't either and we warmed up to him."
"Still."
The microwave beeped.
"I just want Bucky back. Then I can leave and disappear again," she took the food from him and sat at the counter.
"Listen to me. Don't leave. Don't disappear. Running doesn't help anything, it just postpones it," he looked at her.
She thought about it. When she was done thinking, she said, "Maybe you're right. Besides, I'm tired of always running."
He smiled and left her to eat.
When she was done, she went to Bucky's room alone. She told him about the surgery and her hand and how they could match now.
She talked about the shawarma and about Tony's speech.
She paused, looking at him.
"I'm not going to run away," she stated. "I'm here for good, Buck. I promise. So get better and be here for good, too."
She stood, gathered herself, and left.
YOU ARE READING
oh captain! my captain! | barnes
FanfictionO Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; ...
