All We See

Part 5

It's done.

Everything is unpacked.

Now you are just fidgeting, delaying, focusing on anything but the aching fear in your chest that you aren't sure what it's for anymore. There was little heartbreak in this, you've been hurt so many times by your ex that it's become second nature, the hits, cheating, manipulation, so why is your chest aching at the current situation, or why are tears burning behind your eyes since you left his house? Pain and anguish? Or relief and freedom? Normally, you'd probably just let it out, cry and get it over with, but only one problem with that ...Bucky still hasn't left. He's been with you one way or another since you've gotten back from the house, watching you scurry from one side of the room to the other, adding things to the small kitchen, to the bathroom, for the last hour.

The picture frame isn't clean enough. No matter how much you clean the damn glass, it's still smudged. You take it off the dresser again and use the handkerchief to wipe the glass, maybe a little too rough, too quick, mindlessly muttering to yourself as you fight the lump in your throat. It isn't until you hear a distinct crack and a sharp pain in your fingers that you stop, "Dammit."

Placing the picture frame on the dresser as some blood slips from the cut across your fingers and partly on your palm, you turn and walk straight into Bucky who has been watching you slowly break apart, and it isn't helping your current situation, remembering the way he held you just yesterday when he found out about your then-boyfriend. It was safe and warm, secure and gentle, and currently, you are desperate for those things, so tears start to well in the corners of your eyes as you back away and mutter an apology.

"Are you alright?" he asks gently, worry starting to cut into the crevasses of his face as he watches you avoid his eyes, looking everywhere but him and clutching your hand as you respond.

"I'm fine," you choke out and try to sidestep him, but your resolve finally crumbles and your eyes betray you as a tear breaks through and rolls down your cheek.

Bucky's eyes soften, "Sweeth—"

"I'm fine," you say again, shaking your head as you back away, but Bucky walks toward you as fresh tears slip and you silently curse yourself for being so weak, "I'm fine," you repeat like a broken record, but this time it comes out more like a choked sob, "I'm fine."

This time, Bucky takes your arm and gently tugs you to him and the little resistance you had left vanishes and you cry. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you against him as he tries to soothe your pain as a new one develops in his heart, "I've got you, I've got you."

He steadies you as he feels you tremble in his arms, and he begs for the strength not to go to the man that hurt you and do much worse, "I don't know what I'm doing, Buck."

His arms pull you closer at your broken words, "You're doing the right thing. He didn't respect you, care for you, protect you, he hurt you over and over again, he didn't love you, not the way he should've."

The lack of response worries him slightly, hoping to high heavens that you believe him when he tells you that you deserve better than a man that hurts you. He doesn't even know the details of what has happened to you over the last three years of your life, but from what he heard in your argument with him, you have suffered not only physical pain, but also emotional, including obvious cheating on his part. No matter the walls you have put up around yourself, he sees the damage that has been done now that you have let him in, and it scares him.

"C'mon, let's get your hand cleaned."

~~~ (means time skip)

Two months.