Chapter 26

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Bucky couldn't really remember what happened over the next few days, they had gone by in a blur of tears, flashbacks and sleepless nights. All he knew was that Steve was dead and he was back in the hotel room with Natasha. The police had given him a week before they were going to take him in for questioning. He was glad that they understood, even in part, what he was going through.

"Hey, Bucky, do you want something to drink?" Natasha asked from the other side of the room, walking over to where Bucky was sat on the bed, staring at the blank wall white by the TV. His lips were dry and cracked from crying, his hands shook even as he rested them on his legs and his eyes were sunken and hollow. He hadn't eaten since Steve had died, three days earlier and Natasha had only managed to get him to drink enough to stay alive.

She sat on the bed next to him and tried to draw his attention away from the white, peeling paint on the wall. "You know, we could get some room service? Have a nice, hot meal in front of the TV?" She knew he wouldn't reply, he hadn't spoken to anyone since the incident. He turned to her and a single tear rolled down his cheek. She took his hand gently in hers and looked deep into is eyes. "You know, Steve wouldn't want you to be like this" she said almost too quietly to hear.

Bucky knew it was an attempt to make him talk, but there was too much talking, too much happening, too much in his own head. It was replaying over and over in his head. Why does it matter what Steve would want me to do, he thought to himself, he's dead. He's dead and gone and he's never coming back, so why should it matter what he would want me to do?  Natasha stood back up and walked to the door. "I'm going to get some milk from the lobby, I won't be long, stay safe Bucky." She turned away from him and opened the door.

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