"What?"
Her voice was thick with sleep, in the darkness of the room, she kept her eyes closed, but she could still see the gentle glow from the phone screen. It was 2 AM. Why was he calling?
"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered. He wasn't sure why he needed to pick up the phone and dial her number. It had been a damn year. Why couldn't he just move on? Why did she even have to answer?
"James...," she sighed, pushing herself up to sit against the headboard. She lost track of how many times he'd called, but this was the first time she'd picked up.
"Franks...," he sighed softly, rubbing his tired eyes with the vibranium hand, "I couldn't sleep. Steve told me about the mission. My mind just kept racin'. Tell me you're okay. Just lie to me if you have to."
Frankie's licked her dry lips, eyes fixing on the moon that she could see from the window. The stab wound in her side throbbed at his words. She knew she should have been just about healed at this point.
But the serum had begun to break down in her system. She wasn't as fast. Wasn't as strong. And she didn't heal as quickly as she had. Gray hairs has started to sprout on her head. She knew what was happening.
"Please."
His plea was like a knife in the heart. She could hear the brokenness in his voice. It physically hurt her. God, she missed him. Every day was like torture, waking up alone. It was painful.
"James, I'm okay. It's barely a flesh wound. Helen stitched me all up. I'll live."
That was a lie.
"Fuck!," Steve groaned, picking her up carefully. She was resting her back against the wall, blood slowly dripping onto the floor. His eyes were wide with panic. He needed to get her home. Quickly.
"You're okay, Sparrow," he just kept whispering during the entire flight, but he was panicking. She was losing too much blood. She was in and out of consciousness. "Sam! God damn, move this thing faster!"
Bucky looked terrified as they rushed her in. Helen immediately went to work, desperately trying to save her life. She flatlined twice, making him drop to his knees, whispered her name over and over like some pitiful prayer.
What would he do without her? How would he survive if his bird died?
His breath came heavy through the phone. He knew she was lying. He'd stood outside, listening to the monitors. The ones just barely keeping Frankie alive. His head in his hands, tears dropping to the floor.
"I'll be fine," she whispered. "Go to sleep, James."
"And take care of yourself."
He heard the line go dead and his heart shattered all over again. Just like it did the day she walked out on him. But that was his fault, wasn't it? He told her to go. He pushed her away.
He held the phone in his hand. Sucking in a breath, he laid back and tried desperately to close his eyes, to find the rest that he needed. But it wouldn't come. It would never come. Not anymore.
What could he do to fix this? Was there even anything he could do at this point? Or was it useless, completely pointless to try and win her back? She clearly was done with him. He couldn't blame her. No, he'd done this to himself.
****
He watched her.
She looked stunning. A black dress, her long brown hair curled just right. Stilettos with the red soles. She smiled across the table at the man as he reached for her hand, kissing it. God, that hurt.
Her eyes scanned the place. It was habit, plain and simple. Always searching for a threat even when there wasn't one. She couldn't shake it, even though she'd semi-retired after the accident, the one that nearly claimed her life.
The man in the back. Sitting alone, his head hung.
Goddamnit.
"Excuse me," she told her date, making her way to the back of the restaurant, toward the ladies. She locked eyes with him briefly, just letting him know that she'd seen him. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he stood.
She pushed the door open and turned her head. "Still lurking in the shadows, soldier?," she asked softly and he hummed in response. "I'm a big girl, James. I can handle myself."
"He's not good enough for you."
She laughed humorlessly and stepped toward him. "Pretty sure that's none of your concern. You made sure of that when you told me to go. That you didn't love me anymore."
"That was a lie," he cut her off. "It was a lie and you know it, Frankie."
She scoffed, running a hand through her hair. "You shoulda thought about that before it came out of your mouth, Barnes."
Barnes.
She certainly didn't hide her annoyance with him. It was clear in her tone. And it made Bucky feel sick to his stomach. Made his heart clench. Fuck, why did he come?
"I miss you."
It was soft, barely audible. She ran her tongue along her teeth and watched him. Nothing but pain and defeat in his blue eyes. He meant it, that she was sure of.
"I made a mistake, Frankie. I thought I was protecting y-"
She held up a hand, cutting him off.
"Stop. You don't get to do this. Not now. Not after a fucking year, James! You don't have the right. You walked, not me. You. You told me to leave. I begged you! Got down on my knees and begged!"
Tears streamed down her face in her anger. It made him want to hold her, to pull her into his arms. Promise that he'd never hurt her again. That he'd never let her go. But he lost that right a year ago. She was right.
"You lost me. Period. And nothing you can say can change that. Nothing you can say would make me run back to you. I'm done. I'm done hurting. I'm done crying," she sighed, wiping her tears.
"I'm done shedding anymore tears over you. You don't deserve it. Not anymore."
"You coulda died," he whispered, "you did die, Frankie! Twice! I stood outside and listened. It broke my fucking heart. And all I could think about was I'd never get a chance again to tell you that I lo-,"
"No."
"Frankie...," he started but she shoved him back. "Don't you fucking say it," she hissed, "don't you dare, James!" Her anger boiled over. She wanted to punch him. "Don't even think about it."
"What do you want me to do?," he asked her.
"I want you to hurt like I did, James. I want it to rip you apart knowing I'm not coming back. That I'm not coming home. I want it to tear you apart. Cry for me like I cried for you, Barnes."
"Cry for me."
