Secretive - Bucky Barnes

28 || The Most Poisonous

We don't talk much for the rest of the journey, and I am glad for it. 

I know that pushing my thoughts back until they tremble down the same abyss I recently repeatedly threw my heart into isn't that healthy, but trying to deal with them is more than I can bear right now. Maybe more than I can bear ever, but definitely more than I can bear right now.
What am I supposed to say, anyways? 
My image would destroy him. Would destroy him more than his did, already. In his morbid vision that hell calls a fantasy, he would have been able to run to the kids. Would have been able to at least try and save them. In mine, he wasn't powerful enough for that, and neither was I.

»What's the plan, exactly?« James breaks into my thoughts with the device called reality. His voice is strained from both exhaustion and pain, and if I didn't know he's been through worse, I'd be on my knees begging Charon to turn around.

I don't like the way his chest rises and falls so quickly, beats of sweat mixing with the protective water layer that keeps his skin from igniting in this inferno of an afterlife. »What plan?«

»Well, how do you want to convince Hades to be your puppy on a leash?« he rasps, still laying flat on the ground.

»Oh, that?« I wasn't really prepared for this question, because I didn't really prepare for an answer until now.

»Yes, that.«

»Same why I convinced Hermes, I guess.« I utter beneath my breath, not very proud of it and much less proud of it after our conversation in the car.

»So, you're going to pluck out another eye today? Are you trying to get a collection of godly eyes or something?« he asks back, his sarcasm covered in pitch-black.

Clearing my throat, I feel a little bit of unease coming from Charon's side. Well, who would've guessed that I could scare the deliveryman of death? Even in a place as hot as hell, some people can make a cold shiver run down your spine. Apparently, I am some people. »No, I'll ask nicely.« I reply, adding a »Maybe after that.«

The sight of James's expression almost hurts as much as my heart being ripped out. And now that I know what I talk about, everything actually hurts more than that. Because nobody can harm me, hurt me, let me suffer other than him. 

It says so little, yet so much. The way he is looking at me is like looking at a run-over kitten. Sadness. Frustration about this cruel world, mixed with anger. Disappointment. And worst of all, regret.

The thing that strikes most though is his thought. It's like throwing a sharp boomerang in the dark, hoping it would defend the enemy, but it slices your own throat. With his lack of power, it's my turn to voluntarily keep away from his mind. But the look in his eyes made me week for a second, and his thoughts ended me. The most striking flowers are the most poisonous.

I wish he would've stayed at home. With the kids.
He would be safe then. But he knows nobody else would be.

Because if he's not walking with me, there's nobody pointing at the lines I am about to cross.

That's when I know James didn't come with me to protect me, or Steve and Rebecca. Not primarily. I get now why he'd leave them behind with Sam, and why Sam took them without asking as to James's motives, just like that within a beat and not following us on our haunted quest.

It's because a fire only warms you as long as you have it under control.
If you leave it out of your sight for just a second, it will eat everything you know alive. And it will cause the most painful death known to mankind.

James is here to save the world, yes. But not primarily because he's supporting me. He's here to save it from me.
Because I am fire.