Words On My Skin

Chapter 18

A/n: I'm sorry! This is barely edited! I'm going camping a day earlier than I thought, and it threw me off my schedule! Anyways, I hope you all have a good weekend! - Kristin

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You were going to murder your mother.

Okay, maybe not murder... that was extreme.

That was just the anger talking.

Justified anger... but killing somebody for spreading false rumors was a bit excessive. Maybe giving her a stern talking to, and possibly a slap in the face.

Do not hit your mother, Y/n. That's not going to solve anything.

Ugh, your conscience was annoying when it was right.

Your mother was the only one who had brought up any allegations of abuse, so there was no reason not to think that she would be the one to spread the rumors. She was the one who had accused Bucky – to his face – of physically hurting you. As astonishing as it was that she would dare mention it to the general public, you weren't really that surprised. You just couldn't believe that your mother would hurt you like this.

Did she really hate you that much?

"Woah, man, come on." Sam jumped to the defense, scoffing at the audacity of the host bringing this kind of topic up on life television. "I've known Bucky for years, and there is no way that he would lay a hand on his soulmate."

"They're just allegations." The host replied, innocently, trying to probe for further comments on the topic. The entire studio was silent, taken aback by the sudden switch in topic. "Aren't they?"

"Of course, they are!" You scoffed, throat tightening up from the lump forming. Tears were pricking your eyes, but you willed them back, not wanting to angry-cry on live television. What if nobody believes you?! What'll they do to Bucky? "I can't believe this. Bucky's a good man."

"I have to ask, though..." He gestured to you, then pointed to his eye. Oh, god. Your black eye. "You do have bruises."

You rolled your eyes, before glaring at the host with as much malice as you could muster, "Not that it needs any explanation, but one of Tony's experiments in the lab backfired. I got nailed in the face with a flying wrench." You tapped against the side of your head, not quite touching your bruise, "Ever been hit with a wrench? Tends to bruise."

"I'm still thinking about shooting Tony in the kneecaps." Bucky mumbled, speaking for the first time since the host dropped the bomb on you. He'd gone completely ridged, not saying anything – knowing that nobody would listen to him, anyways. "I told him I don't like him using you in the lab. You always end up getting hurt."

"Where did these allegations spawn from?" You demanded, not taking your eye off the host, with a raised eyebrow – giving him your best 'mom look'. "Do you know who's spreading this B.S.?"

"It was an anonymous tip." The host shrugged, stacking his notecards and awkwardly brushing his floppy hair from his forehead.

"I bet it was my mom." You grumbled, jaw tight with anger and still trying to hold back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, "I can't believe this."

"Why do you think it was your mom?"

"She accused him of the same thing, after seeing the bruises I got from training." You slid your hand into Bucky's flesh hand, giving it a small squeeze – trying to comfort him and yourself. "She called him... I don't even want to talk about the words she said. I don't believe them, and neither should any of you."