Believer || Bucky Barnes

6. Bud like you

"Boy it's good to know I've got a bud like you" -AJR

I stood at the sink, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the white porcelain basin. My heart hammered in my chest at a thousand miles an hour, blood pumping through my veins like cars on a race track. I genuinely thought I was dying, my chest felt tight and the mirror in front of me, frost spreading from the corners of the glass, glistening like crystals in the flickering fluorescent bathroom light. I couldn't catch my breath I felt like I was suffocating in my own body. What is happening to me?
"Alexa is everything okay?" Pietros voice sounds from the other side of the door.
"N-no I don't know what is happening" my voice shakes as I glare at my reflection, the person staring back was the Arctic Fox.
"Can I come in?"
"S-sure" I lift my hands from the sink and stare down at the deep purple glow, my silver hair falling into my face.
"What's up foxy?" He stands next to me and I turn to look at him, his smile dropping when he sees my tear stained cheeks, shaking hands and erratic breathing.
"Woah- what happened?" His hands grab mine, his warm skin contrasting with my ice blocks I call hands.
"I-I don't know I-i was just getting ready and then I c-couldn't breathe" I gasp, biting my lips and breathing heavily through my nose.
"You're having a panic attack, it's okay you're not going to die"
"How do I make it stop?" I stammer looking down at the floor.
"Just breathe in slowly and out, in through your mouth out through your nose. There's nothing to be afraid of, there's plenty of air nothing can hurt you, this can't hurt you." His hands squeeze mine and I make eye contact with him, he smiles softly.
"Do you like my outfit? Got specifically to give off more of the hot European boyfriend I've got going on" He chirps.
I look at his shirt. It black, with gold flowers and leaves, like grandmas curtains. He had a pair of jeans on which I'm pretty sure are the only pair he owns with some old scuffed black leather converse, the base of them completely worn down. His hair was nearly styled out of his face and his facial hair was neatened up, he looked the best I've ever seen him.
"I-it's nice, but you still need a hair cut" I mutter staring at the mop of dark hair.
"I don't know might grow it into a man bun"
"You dare, I'll cut it off in your sleep" I laugh lightly, feeling that nervous energy evaporate from my stomach and the tears stop rolling.
"You look wonderful" he grins looking my outfit up and down.
"It's grandma chic" I joke looking at my grey high waisted plaid jeans and my plain black long sleeved shirt.
"Grandmas furniture is in fashion" he jokes and I slowly feel my heart thawing as the shaking stops and breathing begins to slow.
"Are you good printsessa?"
"I think so?" I pull my hands away and stare down at them, the purple mist retracting into my hands like a magnet.
"You are really cold" his hands go to my exposed arms and rubs them, hoping the friction would smooth down the raised hairs on my skin.
"Are you sure you want to go to the party?"

I should've just said 'no' to his question because now I'm standing in MY back garden surrounded by so many people I don't know giving me side eye and dirty looks. Apparently to the general public my story of how I went from rogue avenger to hydra agent is very different. I've heard a few variations so far, for starters I lost my mind and went on a killing spree, then there's the one where I cheated on Damon with the winter soldier and the one where I was Trafficked. The latter is probably closest to the truth.
I'm glad I have Pietro, 'peter' here with me actually make me seem like I've got my life together. Damon isn't taking much of a liking to him but that's just Pietro he radiates idiocy. But it's nice that I actually have answers to questions about my life now, I have an apartment in Brooklyn, stable job as a lab assistant and part time avenger as well as having a hot European boyfriend and seemingly not being a psychotic assassin anymore.

"Peter is...nice" Damon's voice chimes from beside me as I eye up the buffet table across the patio from me.
"Mmhmm. I know you don't like him Damon. Your poker face is terrible, you have a face like a slapped ass" I chime pacing over to the table, Damon tailing me.
"He seems like a bit off a bell end" Damon off handedly mentions as I grab an egg and cress sandwich, rolling my eyes at the comment.
"Alright, I don't judge who your with so-"
"I'm with felicity, you know her, you don't know pet-"
"Damon." I hiss suddenly turning sharply to Face him, staring him down.
My fuse had grown short and I know for a fact Pietro is docile and benevolent, he's sweet and funny but can have his moments. For Damon to accuse me of not knowing Pietro is rather absurd as he's been absent from my life ever since he left me. Granted I was taken by a secret Russian organisation and brain washed, but that's not the point. I still haven't forgiven him for flipping his shit at me when he found out about the mutant I hid from him.
"Don't you dare question anything I choose to Damon, you have no fucking right" I turn to walk off but a hand grips my bicep and turns me back.
"No right? I'm sorry but who-"
"Who fucking left me when I need you the most?" I hiss back tugging my arm away from his grip but his knuckles turned white as he clutched me tighter.
"Hey 'Lex, everything okay?" Another voice sounds from behind me and soft touch brushes my shoulder.
"No, we're leaving pete" I say calmly, glaring at Damon, who stared down at me with a hollow look and clenched jaw.
He finally loosened his grip on my arm as I tug it away. Damon's grip ghosted my arm as if wanted to pull me back. 
"You okay?" Pietro whispered to me as he guides me away from Damon.
"Yeah just need to...cool off" I hum as we make our way to the exit, a few intense stairs following my moves.
"Hey! Alex where are you going?" A sudden high voice chirps as felicity joins me at my side, a smile on her face but eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"Oh sorry felicity, somethings come up, lovely party. Hope you and Damon have a good wedding I won't be able to make it" I rush as I begin to pad down the stairs at the front of the house.
"Wait what why?"
"The avengers need Me" I quickly say turning to felicity and hugging her briefly.
"I'll uhm try make the after party, bye felicity"
"It was nice meeting you felicity" Pietro hums smiling at the blonde.
"You too peter, look after her" she warns, frowning at me as I quickly flick my wrists to open a pulsating portal.

The second I landed back in my apartment I just wanted to scream. My face paled in anger as the room turned cold.
"Hey hey, what happened" Pietros warm hands gripped my shoulder.
"Fucking Damon, I knew- I knew I should've avoided him and felicity. It was just going to get messy he's my ex for Christ sake" I exclaim.
"I was so stupid for thinking that I could easily go back to what I was before—" a loud shaky breath rattles out my lungs and a headache begins to creep it's way to my temples.
Pietro stared at me with an unreadable look like he was trying figure me out like a puzzle.
"Alex" He begins.
I slump back into the sofa and try to ignore the overwhelming feeling of confusion and existentialism.
"I had everything a few years ago...I had a stable job, I was going to get married and I was mostly happy— and now? I can hardly remember that life or even who I was" I wipe my face with my hands as if to try and wipe away the sickly feeling settling in my stomach.
"Listen I know what you're going through- I want nothing more to go back to my family- be with Wanda but-"
"You can peter. She's there, I've seen her grieving and she's going through a lot right now and she needs her big brother" he sits down next to me, sinking into the cushions his hands resting loosely by his sides with a look of contemplation.
"Don't throw away something that some people would die for" I turn to look at him, his eyes trained on the floor.
After a brief silence I get to my feet, "by some people I mean me, I am some people" I crack a small smile and nudge Pietros leg with mine.
"I'll let you think about it— so dinner? I could fry up some burgers but by the way you were vacuuming up that buffet I don't think you would need anymore food"
Pietro looked at me dumbfounded, "You do know who I am right?" In the blink of an eye Pietro was already across the room raiding the fridge.

.

Summer in New York was always agony, especially for someone like me, who's highly sensitive to temperature changes. It doesn't help that in the blistering heat Manhattan becomes an urban heat island and you could fry eggs on the hood of your car.
I'd like to blame this heat on my lack of sleep tonight that's a bit too obvious. The events of today have really gotten to me, it's really made me realise trying to hold onto the past is just going to get me hurt.
I climb out of bed and shuffle over to my bedroom window that stared directly into a block of offices for god knows what business. It was pitch black outside by the soft haze from the streets below illuminated the building enough to make out the windows and stained brick work. Slowly, I place my forehead against the glass, and slowly the Pane became cold and frosty, cooling my body temperature. I am content with this apartment, with Pietro and my odd relationship with the avengers and the thick tension Steve and I permanently have. But having ghosts at every corner and my desperate attempts to cling onto the past are just getting me down. I've made it this far on my own, I go to therapy, I've got this apartment- that may look like a meth den but it functions well- and I have a roommate that actually pays rent and helps me around the house, granted said roommate is technically deceased but that's beside the point. Not to mention I have a job, someone actually hired me.

I suddenly jerk back, my forehead feeling stinging from the cold window pane as the whole window frosts over, crystals of ice and swirling patterns fog the glass. I stagger back in surprise, the thick humid temperature of the rest of my room contrasted harshly with my frosty skin. my eyes, which are definitely glowing a vibrant shade of yellow dart to my cracked phone sitting on my broken nightstand, taunting me with a stupid idea. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end like a scared cat as I clear the room in three long strides, the phone in my hand with a white knuckle grip. It's like I was on auto-pilot, my fingers glide over the valleys of the cracked screen and suddenly I was pressing the red call button and hearing the humming of the phone line ringing. 

After 4 rings it abruptly stopped and my eyes wander back to my frosty window, the ice thawing unevenly and decorating the glass with streams of condensed water, "who is it?" 

"James? It's Alex. where are you?"