the escapees || bucky barnes

XIX: welcome to feelings station

God, my feelings were really starting to bite me in the ass.

An example? Well, how about the fact that I still wasn't talking to Tony, even after a week of silence between the two of us. I was still being a bitter bitch, and he was just avoiding me entirely. Yippee to the Avengers and their lack of knowledge on being social with other people! At least there were some people on my side. Like Steve, Sam, Nat, Clint, and of course, Bucky.

I was in a lot of pain, but the painkillers along with daily talks with Dr. Coleman really were helping me. She'd lightly pressed me to tell her anything, and since she was my therapist, I just went along with it, letting her know about the things the men did to me. She was a bit concerned about this, thinking it would add on to the multitude of symptoms I already had showing of PTSD, but I assured her that I was just fine, and she had nothing to worry about. After all, I didn't need any more pills to take.

"Well, okay then, Charlie. Make sure to do the exercises I taught you," She said, giving me a small wave before turning off the Zoom call.

I shut my computer not long after, letting my breathing go back to normal. I was doing a bit better than before, (read: wasn't having panic attacks every hour), but my nerves were still frayed from everything that had happened in the past few weeks. I hadn't known what to do, but I was starting to be more open about my feelings, and I was finally ready to talk to someone outside of Dr. Coleman about it.

Not Tony, since he was being a dick, not Peter, I didn't want him to have to deal with my stupid-ass issues, and not Steve, he wouldn't fully understand. He'd try to make things better, when in reality, it just made everything worse. Not Nat, because she was busy pretty much all day taking care of some more legal stuff, not Clint, who already had enough on his hands with his family and us. Not Vision, because I felt he'd give some sort of automated response to try and make me feel better, and not the Maximoffs, because I didn't feel like dealing with Pietro at the moment. Not Scott, because I barely even knew the guy, not Sam, since he was on a mission, and not Bruce, since he was doing some lecture at Harvard.

The only person left was Bucky.

Thank god for Bucky. He was probably the only thing keeping me rooted. His constant assurances that he'd be there for me, on top of the company he gave was soothing, and as much as I hated to admit it, he'd become the person closest to me in the past five months. So I went to him.

I knocked on his door twice, and he opened it almost immediately. I was greeted with the sight of a happy Bucky Barnes, his eyes gleaming with joy upon seeing my there. He pulled me into a hug, though I recoiled at the touch and he pulled away. See, that's what I appreciated about him. He'd do what was best for me, because he had been in a situation not unlike mine. He probably was still going through it.

"What's up, doll?" Bucky said, letting me in the apartment.

It was considerably cleaner than last time, with only a couple of papers pinned to a bulletin board above his desk. I could see that he'd shoved the rest into a binder on the floor next to his bed, and he seemed much happier without them there. It was almost like a weight lifted off the man's shoulders.

"Er, I just came to check on you," I lied, then cringing at it.

"Okay," Bucky clearly didn't believe me. "So, how's your ankle? Doing better?"

"Yeah, should be done in about two more weeks. Thank god for advanced healing."

"Well, that's good," He moved to a small mini-fridge in the corner of his room. "You want anything? Soda? Beer?"

"Do you have any Sprite?" I asked, and was responded to with him tossing a can to me. "Thanks."

I opened it, and immediately got sprayed in the face by the liquid. I yelped before covering it with my hand and putting it on the coffee table in front of me. Hearing Bucky laughing, I sent him a glare.

"Really, Sarge?"

"Yup."

We sat in silence for a few moments, just taking in each other's company. It really was nice, having a good friend there to be there for me. But I hadn't told him everything. I wasn't sure I was ready. Then again, I was. I'd been gathering up the confidence to for a week now, and though I was a nervous wreck, I had to do this. I had to be brave.

"Sarge?" I tentatively said.

"Hm?"

"I can tell you anything, right?"

Bucky sat up straight, his face creased with worry. "Why? What happened?"

"I was just thinking it was about time I told you what really happened at the HYDRA base."

"Really?" He hesitated though his curiosity clearly got the better of him. "Okay, go ahead."

I started from the beginning. How I'd left the tower late one night. Bucky didn't seem to be pleased with this, but he let me continue. I told him about the kidnapping, and how I just woke up in a HYDRA facility. My hands had started to shake at this point, but I pressed on. I don't know why. I told him about some of all of the tortures this time, including the rape. That had been the worst one. I told him that I'd been malnourished and in immense pain every second.

By I finished, tears were running down my face, and Bucky looked astonished. I knew he wouldn't understand. I got up to leave, but Bucky held onto my arm lightly.

"Oh my god, Charlie," He wasn't afraid of me. He was worried for me. "Are you okay?"

"I thought that was a bit clear," I gave a broken laugh.

My energy was really drained at this point, and I needed to sleep. But I stayed with Bucky, sitting down next to him as he tried to comfort me in some way, shape or form. He actually cared. He wasn't faking this. It felt amazing.

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to go to the police, tell someone about this?" Bucky put his arm around me lightly.

"No," I said, my voice straining. "I...just want you to be here."

Bucky nodded, pulling me into a hug. I closed my eyes and let my body shudder from crying, and he just kept hugging me. He'd made it clear that he would be there for me, and he wasn't disappointing. In fact, he was the one person that I could tell that was at the compound right now that cared about me more than themselves. I know that sounds selfish, but I needed something like that.

I started to slump down, my body going weak from exhaustion. Bucky held up my weight, making sure I didn't fall off the couch. He picked me up, shifting me in his arms before laying me down in his bed. I curled up, careful to not rest too much on my ankle. Before I closed my eyes, I looked up at Bucky one last time.

"Thank you, Bucky," I whispered.

"You're welcome, doll."