Never Safe

Chapter Forty-Four

The evening that you left, only Natasha stayed with Bucky. Everyone else gave him space. She tried to cheer him up. But he was barely sad, still just angry.

That hadn't changed by Tuesday. Natasha offered to go out for lunch, or suggested they could have dinner together. He didn't want to. When Steve tried to talk to him, Bucky claimed he had nothing to say.

The Avengers had a mission on Wednesday. Tony didn't even try to ask Bucky to come. He was still stuck in his consistent bad mood. They didn't get home until late. Neither Steve nor Nat checked on Bucky.

They didn't go on Thursday either, but Natasha tried again on Friday morning. She brought him breakfast in bed. He didn't say a word, not even a thank you. She didn't say anything either as she sat on the end of his bed, expecting him to eat. He didn't move. She watched his face closely. It had since changed: no longer so angry, now more... expressionless. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

"Bucky, are you okay?" she asked. He looked at her but didn't answer. "Baby? Come on, I'm worried about you." Bucky looked away again. "You know, everything's gonna be fine-"

Bucky scoffed. "You don't know that."

Nat frowned. "What's going on? You've been acting different from the moment y/f/n showed up at the hospital."

"Yeah, well, I don't like him."

"I gathered that much. Why?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bucky-"

"Drop it, Natasha" he snapped.

"I'm just trying to help you, baby." 

She sighed when he stayed quiet. "Fine, I'll leave you for a bit. I'll come back later." She stood and walked over to the door. "Eat something, baby" she suggested, gesturing at the plate she'd brought him. She walked out.

That evening, she returned to say goodnight. She knocked on his door but entered anyway.

The room was empty.

***

It was late, around eleven pm. May was still awake, so she heard the knock at the door. She didn't know who on earth would stop by this late, but when she saw who it was, she understood.

"I've been wandering if you were going to come."

Bucky had tears in his eyes.

"Come on." May put her hand on his back and gently pulled him inside. She closed the door as Bucky went to sit on the couch. She went to stand in front of him. Bucky leaned forward, pressing his forehead to her stomach. May held his head, brushing her hands over his hair in comfort as he began to weep.

He sat like that for a couple minutes before he shook his head. "I'm sorry." He sat back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here..." He wiped his eyes. That didn't stop him crying.

May sat down beside him. "Don't apologise, Bucky."

"I shouldn't be burdening you with this-"

"No. You're not burdening me. I want to help you... Do you want to talk about it yet?"

Bucky looked up at her, making eye contact for the first time since entering the apartment. He took a deep wavering breath.

"She left..."

May picked up his hand and squeezed it assuringly.

"I couldn't get her to stay. So now she's gone and I don't know if she's coming back. I don't think she'll ever want to... she told me I made her unhappy..."

May watched him pitifully as he slowly turned his head side to side. His voice came out weak. "I couldn't do it May."

"Bucky..."

"I couldn't..." he cried quietly. May put her arm around him and he leaned on her. He needed comfort. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do." 

May let his tears fall for a minute.

"She left so abruptly, right? She didn't pack any of her things?"

Bucky shook his head.

"So why don't you take some things over there? And when you go, you can talk. Give her a little bit of space, time with her dad, but make sure she knows that she can come home if she wants to."

"But I don't think she does."

"You're her brother, Bucky. She loves you, so of course she's going to want to see you."

"She said she's unhappy around me, though."

"She didn't mean it."

"But-"

"She didn't mean it, Bucky. You were arguing, so you both would have said things to upset the other, even if they weren't anywhere near true. It's what people do... you've done an amazing job of taking care of her for the past few years Bucky. Y/n knows that. She knows you've always been there for her and you always will be. She won't stay mad. She'll come home."

Bucky stayed quiet for a while, processing May's words, trying to believe them. He spoke after a few minutes of silence.

"I yelled at her."

"Hm?"

"I yelled at her" Bucky repeated. "It made things worse. I know every time I yell, it always gets worse but I can't stop myself. I don't know why I do it. It upsets her."

"I don't think you do it to upset her" May said. "I think you do it as a cover up. I think you're scared, terrified of the idea of losing her. But you don't want her to see that. You don't want her to see you as scared or vulnerable because you're supposed to be brave, the person she looks up to, not afraid of anything. So you hide your fear with anger. You yell... No, it's not great. But it's better than letting her see you're scared. Because you know that if she knows you're afraid, she'll be afraid too..."   

May pulled her sleeve down over her hand and wiped Bucky's eyes. She cupped his cheek in her hand and brushed away another tear as it fell. She looked Bucky in the eyes.

"You show her there's nothing to be afraid of."

Bucky placed his hand over May's. "Thank you, May" he whispered. "For everything."

"I want to do anything I can to help. I care about you, Bucky. Like family."

Bucky smiled gratefully at her.

Then something buzzed from inside his jacket. He took out the phone, yours. He scoffed amusedly at the text.

"Peter?"

He stepped out from where he was hiding around the corner.

"And why aren't you in bed young man?" May asked.

"I'm sorry... are you talking about y/n?"

"Come here, Pete" Bucky gestured him over. He walked over and sat between Bucky and May. Bucky put his arm around him and hugged him close. "You miss her already?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah, me too."

***

Bucky stayed with May and Peter that night, then he went back to his apartment rather than the Compound the next morning.

The door was still wide open when he got home. He slowly walked in, examining the broken furniture around the room. His eyes fell to the dried blood on the floor. He tried to ignore it, marching straight on to your bedroom.

He found your backpack and emptied your school things from it. He started repacking it with clothes, your charger, a couple of your favourite books, a few other things you probably needed.

He was about to leave your room when his eyes found the photos on your wall. He looked at all of them, then decided to take one. It was a selfie you had taken: Bucky had his arm around you, you were both wearing sunglasses and pulling stupid faces.

Bucky grabbed it and put it in one the backpack's pockets. Then he left for California.