I Promise.

Safe.

Chapter 12
                       11/20/2001
Bucky washed the egg pan!
I don't know why I'm thinking about him so much. I'm not trying to make this the diary of a 17 year old pubescent, horny teen, but this is very much what it was becoming. It's just that I can't stop thinking about him. It's his turn in the shower and I can't stop thinking about him. Dear god I need help. Like counseling or something. Maybe conversion camp? Okay I did laugh a little bit while writing that, don't lie to yourself, Steve. I just still can't believe I asked him about the Pythagorean theorem. Talk about a mood killer. I'm still not sure why I'm so awkward with this stuff. Bucky could just come outright and say it, and I freeze and want to talk about literally anything else. I think about those events all the time, but talking about them out loud is so embarrassing, especially to the person it's about. Then again, talking about it to a book isn't exactly the best thing either. Anyways, we leave tomorrow morning. I'm excited, but not as excited that I'm not sharing a room with Bucky. It feels weird, not sharing a room with him. It's only been a month since I've officially moved in, but I've basically lived here my whole life. We've pretty much always lived together. I also can't wait to take a shower and wash my face. I'm still disgusted by the fact that Bucky threw his underwear at me. It wasn't even boxers, it was boxer briefs. It's scarred me for life. Okay, now I really want a shower. Jesus what's taking him so goddamn long. Is he throwing a party in there or something?
I decided to knock on the door. The water wasn't running and it was fairly quiet, so I just wanted to check and see if he was alright in there.
  "Yeah?" Bucky said through the door. His voice sounded strained. It sounded like he'd been beaten up in there.
  "It's getting late. You almost done?" I asked.
  "I'll be out in a second." His voice sounded so broken and raspy. I felt bad for him.
  "Take your time."
I grabbed my nightclothes and set them on my bed. I heard the door slowly unlock and Bucky step out. He was facing the floor the whole time. I grabbed the clothes off my bed and walked towards the bathroom. Before I got even close to the door, I put my hand on Bucky's waist. He stopped towards me, and looked at me in the eyes. His eyes were red, bloodshot. He looked like he'd been crying. They were all puffy and swollen.
  "Buck are you-" Before I could finish he stopped me.
  "I can't forget it." It took me a second, but I remembered what happened. I told him to sit and calm down, and I'd be out of the shower in five minutes tops. It was one of the fastest showers I've ever taken, but it was fine by me. I was worried about him. I quickly unlocked the door to walk back out to the room. He was sitting on my bed, waiting. He was curled up into my pillow. My bed is a twin, but it could easily fit both of us. I don't take up much room. I sat down on the edge of the bed. He started to talk.
"He didn't see it coming. It happened so fast." He started to say. "I remember hearing him hit the steering wheel. He didn't even have time to scream. It was instant." He explained. I didn't want to interrupt. I just wanted to listen to him. "The sounds of bones crushing still play in my dreams sometimes. It sounded like someone snapped a twig in half. It was disgusting." He audibly gagged, probably at the fact that he was explaining it. "The car rolled over. It was so hard to explain. At first I was confused as to how he hit the steering wheel, but then I realized the 18-wheeler rear ended the back side, it was a miracle I lived." He whispered. "Sometimes I wish." He stopped himself, and stared into my eyes. "This is so selfish. But sometimes I wish it were me." He faced down. He wanted to avoid looking at me as he said it.
  "Buck, I-" I had no idea what to say. How do you respond to that? Your boyfriend wishes that it were him that died and not his dad.
  "That was so stupid to say. I'm sorry." He choked back a sob.
  "That's not stupid. I get what you mean. I wish it were me instead of my mom all the time. It's normal. It's a part of grieving. There's nothing we can do to change the past, so let's just suck it up and live in the present." I told him. I'd never admitted that to anyone.
  "I'm sorry." He said, quietly.
  "For what?" I asked.
  "You've been so focused on me, that I forgot that it's your first holiday without your mom. I've never asked you how you've been doing." I thought for a second. It all came in a wave. I've lost my dad and my mom. I don't have parents. I'm the last one. I started to break down. I never thought about it this way. Mrs. Barnes is amazing, but she isn't my mom. Mr. Barnes was amazing, but he wasn't my dad. I'm alone. I'm all alone. I tried to keep back the urge to cry, but I couldn't hold it. I felt my whole body rattle. My parents are gone. Both are gone. Bucky pulled me into a hug as best as he could with the one arm he had. He started kissing my neck. Not in a sexual way, but in a comforting way. It was like his was of letting me know he was here, and that he was sorry.
  "Don't be sorry. You've been through far more than I have." I mumbled into his chest. I was surprised he heard me.
  "Bullshit. You watched your mom suffer for weeks. Mine was instant. I can't even remember losing my arm. We are both in deep shit." He whispered into my neck. It felt nice to have him here, next to me. I felt safe with him. I wanted to stay here forever.