Why me?

The Ignorance

Bucky came and found me one morning, instead of Steve. "Steve's been called out on duty do you need anything? Wait? What's going on?" I was sat on the floor in tears. He rushed over and sat in front of me. "Jess, what's happened?" I didn't say anything, just turned my phone around. It was open on my Facebook page; I had just got my 'remember this' post, and it had told me today, that it was eight years since the Brooklyn Wreck.

Bucky didn't say anything, just pulled me over to him and hugged me. "Jess I'm sorry. I should have known I was there too," This I hadn't known. "I'm gonna call Steve. Get him back here. He knows what happened..."

"NO. Don't tell him I'm upset. He fusses enough about the fact I'm in a wheelchair. He forgets I spent four years in a wheelchair, everyone does, so this is nothing new to me! I don't need everyone to fuss over me, I just want to be as independent as I was in the first place." Bucky just looked at me, slightly stunned.

"Well, that's Steve in a nutshell for you." He sighed.

"Bucky? You know how I told you yesterday that I'd never told all this to anyone?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"There was someone I told all this, and it always helped, but now she's not here, I don't know who I can tell, or who I can trust. When Annie started deteriorating a few months ago," I could feel myself breaking down again. I took a breath and looked to the ceiling in an attempt to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks. "I knew she couldn't take the stress of all my problems too, so I started keeping a sort of diary. I wrote what I would have said to Annie, exactly how I would have explained it to her, but now she's not here, I don't even know how I used to speak to her. I'm just glad no-one questions my constant wearing of long sleeves." I explained and leaned back on my bed. Then it struck me what I'd just said, would Bucky know what I meant? His pitiful but angry look told me, yes, he did understand. Crap!

"Our blatant ignorance doesn't give you an excuse to hurt yourself Jess. I get you're in a dark place, I've been there with the harming, and I honestly can't imagine what you're going through, but you need to talk to someone, whether it be one of us, or even JARVIS." He sighed again, running a hand down his face. I knew what he wanted to ask, but he knew better than to ask it. He wanted to see them, to see how bad it was.

"Just ask it, Bucky. I know what you're thinking." I snapped. He sighed.

"Can I see, just to see how bad it is." Exactly what I was thinking. I pushed up my sleeves and showed him the scars and fresher cuts. He sighed again. "Anywhere else?" I pointed to the top of my thigh and across my stomach; I held my shirt up so he could see those ones. They were the freshest and a couple were still bleeding. "Does anyone else know?" He asked, not looking at me.

"Else know." I'd done it again. Gradually, I'd noticed a few people picking up on me doing it, and a few other things I did, like wincing at touch and noises, but thankfully, Bucky wasn't one of them. "Only you and Nat. She only knows because she saw it when she was helping me get dressed."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A little over a two months."

"I'm not going to tell Steve because he'll just fuss even more, on two conditions. One: It stops now. You do it again and he gets told. Two: you come and talk to me. If you feel like doing it again, or anything is going wrong, anything in the slightest, no matter how small you see it as, come and find me. If I'm not here, my coms are always on, call me. Do we have a deal?" I knew he was right, Steve would freak if he knew about this, but staying clean was a promise I just couldn't make.

"This isn't up for negotiation, is it?" Bucky shook his head, his hair falling loose from behind his ear. He slid a hair tie from off his wrist and threw his hair up in a rough ponytail, then looked back to me. "Then Steve will just have to find out. I'll talk to people, fine, I really want to be able to trust someone and talk to them, but you know how strong the urges are once they set in. It's impossible to promise to stay clean." I snapped. "I missed the transfer, that's why I'm on the floor. Can you help me please?" I asked in a clipped voice, not looking at him. He helped me into my wheelchair and walked out, already pulling out his phone. "Bucky, wait." I called after him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to lean casually on the doorframe, phone still in his hands, a smug smile spreading across his face. "I'll try. We have a deal. If it happens again, you have full rights to tell Steve, OK?"

"Agreed. Ok, come on, breakfast. I need to try and distract you all day, take your mind off the date." I followed him out in my wheelchair, struggling to get over the threshold line, but managing it.

I met Bucky at the bottom of the elevator on the kitchen and wheeled over to the table where Nat, Clint and Bruce were sat. "How're you doing, Jess" Nat asked when I slid into a dining chair.

"I'm OK. Doing as well as I think I can be. Bucky's got his work cut out today anyway." I said, giving Bucky a look that he would understand.

"Why's that?" She inquired, eyeing me suspiciously.

"Today is eight years since The Brooklyn Wreck." I didn't look at Nat, just stared at the plate that Bucky had placed in front of me. "Thanks Bucky." He had made some toast and spread lashings of butter on it, just how my mom used to do it. It brought back memories, but happy ones.

Tony came upstairs as I finished my breakfast. "The chip's ready, and so is the lab, if you are?" He said casually, grinning slightly. The chip was ready; I could walk again.