the soul thief ↬ b. barnes

control

The tiles were cold under her feet. Bruce had offered her clothes to change into, but she refused, instead choosing to stay in the paper thin robe that caused goosebumps to erupt up her back.

Tessa could hear Bucky's footsteps in front of her. They were soft, but genetically altered hearing and years of straining to hear when the guards were coming had trained her ears to pick up even the most quiet of sounds.

He was leading her to her room. Her own room, which she could leave whenever she wanted. Where people would have to knock, and wait for her to say 'come in' before they entered. A place she could call her own, where she could hide from everything that was evil.

But she could never hide from herself.

She followed Bucky, through the endless halls that twisted together like a labyrinth, analysing each turn they took, each door they went past. She ingrained everything single step they took into her memory, for that inevitable day when she would have to make her get away.

She passed a room, peering inside curiously. Bits of light hung in thin air, creating words and images. Some moved, showing a video, while others were just paragraph upon paragraph of text. Inside, she saw Bruce, an unfamiliar man and—

There he was. Just standing there. Nothing separated them except a sheet of glass that would be easy to shatter. She had been told so many lies over her life, she was coming to realise, but the rage that filled her body was true. Whether the cause of it was honest, she didn't know, but years and years of the same thing being beaten into her couldn't just be thrown aside.

Tessa's fists clenched. She brought her metal arm up towards the glass, ready to smash it and kill him. It would be so easy—just a hand around his throat and some pressure, and he would be gone. All the pain and suffering he had caused her would end.

Her fist connected with the glass. It cracked, but did not break. The three heads in the room turned towards the noise, and Tony's face went white. She pulled back to try again, but someone grabbed her arm.

Metal on metal clanged, and Tess looked up into Bucky's wide eyes. He shook his head gently, not letting go of the death grip on her arm. "Tessa, no," he said softly. "If you make one more move like this, I cant stop them from locking you up again."

Tessa turned her head back to Tony. They made eye contact through the glass, and she noticed he had his hand outstretched, ready to call his suit. As if that would help him.

Heavy breathing reminded her that Bucky was still there. She looked at him, noticing the desperate look in his eyes. In that moment, staring into the eyes that held the same scars as hers, which hid the same pain as her and saw the same things that she did when lying in bed at night, she realised she didn't want to kill Tony.

Sure, she wanted to hurt him, but refraining from hurting was a lot easier than refraining from killing. She nodded stiffly at Bucky, lowering her arm slowly. He let out a small sigh of relief. When he went to let go of her arm, she spoke up. "Actually—can you keep holding it?" she said quietly, ashamed of herself for asking. When he furrowed his brows in confusion, she elaborated. "I don't trust myself not to hurt him," she said, looking down at her feet.

Immediately, Bucky's hand wrapped around her wrist, the gentle pressure pulling her focus away from Tony and down to the man who was so much like her. They started walking again, this time leaving no gap. They walked side by side, and the movement of their bodies hid the place where they connected.

Tessa felt weak, and vulnerable. She hated herself for being so childish, but for the first time in so many years, she felt in control.