Whiskey & Wine

6. This is Gospel

This is Gospel for the fallen ones
Locked away in permanent slumber
Assembling their philosophies
From pieces of broken memories

•"You're sure?"

Corine huffed at his question. "Yes James. Three tests. I'm certain." It wasn't an ideal situation. He wasn't the most stable human on the planet. But it was was it was.

"How did this happen?," he asked and she laughed humorlessly. "We have sex?," she shrugged. He rolled his eyes. "But the birth control...," he started and she sighed heavily. "It's only like, ninety-seven percent effective," she replied.

"Jesus, Rinnie," he swore. His mind was racing. He couldn't be a father. He'd be a terrible one. Doubt clouded his mind. "You're unbelievable," she sneered. "Honestly."

"Look at me!," he snapped, "I'm not the most reliable person in the world, Corine! I'd be a terrible father!"

And that was that.

She packed her bags and left the apartment. She'd do it alone if she had to. And effectively ended their relationship in the process.•

Six weeks later, she laid in the hospital bed. He'd come, but she refused to see him. This was her loss, not his as far as she was concerned. He'd abandoned them both in her eyes.

It had been more than she could bear, nearly quitting. Instead, she took six months off and then returned to the band. But she swore that someday she'd have the courage to pick up and move on.

Today was that day.

Moving into a new place, Corine looked around. It was smaller, but cozier. But most importantly, it didn't remind her of Bucky.

It would be a painful process, but it had to be done. Corine needed to breathe and as long as she followed the Commandos, she'd never be able to. Seeing him so completely lost and broken was too much for her already-fragile heart.

The gnashing teeth and criminal tongues conspire against the odds
But they haven't seen the best of us yet

Bucky couldn't breathe.

He stood in the quiet hotel room. He was rooted to the spot in front of the mirror. He looked tired, and he was. He hadn't slept since she walked away.

She was the light in his darkness. A beacon. And she was gone. The one thing that kept him alive, kept him going. And it was his own fault. He'd done this, been the reason she needed to be free.

He wanted to call her. Tell her he was sorry.

But it wouldn't matter. She'd never pick up the phone. And even if she did, she'd never hear him out.

It haunted him, his dreams. That loss. That painful loss. It was the reason he'd consumed himself with addiction. A filler for the pain. The heartbreak. The absolute worst feeling, worst day of his life.

He thought about it. If he'd just stepped up...

They'd be celebrating today.

Six. The kid would be six.

Would he or she look like him? Would he have Corine's green eyes? It tore at him. Ripped him from the inside. So he did the only thing he knew. He got drunk and high because he needed to forget. To let her go.

If you love me let me go
'Cause these words are knives that often leave scars
The fear of falling apart
And truth be told, I never was yours

Downing the bottle of Jack. A bump. It numbed it.

But it didn't go away.

Picking up his phone, he dialed her number, going straight to voicemail.

'Rinnie...I miss you,' he breathed into the speaker.
'I know I ruined it. I know I'm the reason you're gone. And I know sorry isn't even enough. But I am. I am sorry. And I think about us everyday. I think about how I fucked everything up. How I let you down, how I wasn't there. How I shoulda been able to hold your hand. Grieve with you. Bury out baby together. Fuck! I'm sorry. I'm sorry I let you down..that I wasn't the man you needed. I love you, Rin. I always will.'

He'd barely hung up before everything went black.

Oh, this is the beat of my heart, this is the beat of my heart

Corine didn't know. Bucky made Steve swear to keep it from her. Another god damned overdose. She'd just shrug it off at this point. No, she wouldn't rush to his side. Not anymore. He couldn't expect her to. He couldn't ask that of her.

So Steve kept his promise.

This is gospel for the vagabonds,
Ne'er-do-wells, insufferable bastards
Confessing their apostasies
Led away by imperfect impostors

He'd hoped he'd see her again. A year passed. And then another. No word. No sign. She'd meant what she said. 'I'm not coming back.' And she didn't.

Bucky learned to live without her. 'If you love something, let it go.' He wished it was that easy. In his mind, she'd always be his. His everything. His light. His beacon. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, she'd cross his path again someday.

Oh, this is the beat of my heart