Not The Only One - A Winter Soldier Story

Chapter 19

June 26, 2016

Fair warning: Discussion about a traumatic real world event towards the end. 

     No one slept well, but I had a feeling it had to do with more than just the poor bedding situation.

     Steve got up and left the apartment at dawn. Once the door closed behind him, I cautiously opened one eye.

     "Doll, are you awake?" Bucky whispered.

     "Yeah?"

     He rolled over to face me and gave a small smile. "Morning."

     "Morning," I returned the greeting. "Do you know where Steve went?"

     Bucky shook his head and we both went quiet for a couple minutes as the early morning stillness wrapped itself around us.

     "Bucky?"

     "Mmhm," he grunted in acknowledgement.

      "Was I a good fighter?" I asked quietly.

     His first response was a sad laugh and wistful smile. "You were the best."

     I waited for him to continue.

     "You handed my ass to me more than once, including yesterday."

     Frowning, I asked, "I fought you yesterday?"

     He nodded. "Nearly beat me to death."

     Words spilled out of me. "Oh my God! I'm so sorry! I-I don't remember doing that."

     "Listen, it's okay," he assured me. "You were scared and confused. Could've happened to anyone."

     My shame and embarrassment shut me up while I berated myself. How could I have come so close to taking the life of someone who has shown kindness to me?

     As sunlight steadily crept into the apartment, I saw the damage that had been done to his face. The damage I had caused.

     "Bucky, I'm so sorry," I breathed.

     "Don't worry about it." He tried to comfort me by saying, "You didn't do all of this. I was already pretty beaten up before you got a hold of me."

     I had not only hurt someone who was trying to help me, but also injured a man with one arm and who had recently been assaulted.

     Angry with myself, I began violently picking at my fingernails. The light brought my attention to the dirt and blood that was caked under them. Even after last night's shower, a red tinge clung to the skin around each nail.

     I asked suddenly, "Do you have any nail clippers?"   

     "I assume Steve has some in his hygiene kit," Bucky said as he got up and went over to the bags in the corner of the room.

     After a minute of rummaging, Bucky handed me the desired item.

     "Sorry I got my blood on you, Doll," he apologized once he saw my left hand.

     "It's not just yours," I thought to myself.

     Unsure how to respond to someone apologizing to me because I had wrongly attacked them, I remained silent.

     "Oh, I almost forgot." Bucky murmured, before pulling something else out of Steve's things. "Little soap on the nail brush and some scrubbing and everything should come right off."