Chapter 9

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Dinner was fairly silent, it was kind of uncomfortable actually, not because of the silence, but because everyone in the room, including Steve, was staring at me and Bucky in what seemed to be disbelief. Afterwards, I bid my companion goodbye with a smile and he was escorted back to his cell. I'd noticed that he walked with his head down when there wasn't a female around him. He must be trying not to trigger himself which meant that he really was trying to break Hydra's hold on him. This was a good sign.

When he had left the room completely, I moved over to join Natasha and Steve at the main table. They were watching me all the way there.

"What?" I asked, not entirely sure why they were looking at me the way they were. The Captain stuttered, trying to find the right words before saying

"What was that?" I couldn't tell if he was being stern or just plain confused.

"What was what?" I said

"That!" Steve replied, pointing towards the back corner table where mine and Bucky's trays were being cleared away by a member of the kitchen staff.

"That was me doing exactly what you told me to ."

"I asked you to hang out with him and help him remember, not to have dinner with him."

"He asked me to eat with him so I did. There's nothing wrong with that is there?" I retorted

"There is when you're with the most dangerous man in the world. Your job is to be his therapist, not his date." Steve said with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I wasn't being his date, I was trying to be a friend to him since nobody else around here is. Not even you and he used to be your best friend." This was a low blow but it had to be said. "I can handle him Steve." After taking a second to pause for thought he replied.

"How do you know he won't hurt you?" This made me pause for a moment and think. How did I know that Bucky wouldn't hurt me? Only now did it dawn on me how much trust I had put in him without thinking twice. "Look," said Rodgers, breaking my train of thought, "All I'm saying is that you need to be careful." He looked at me with pleading eyes and I nodded in reply, not knowing what to say. Just before he left the room, he turned to me and said "And try and keep it at least a little bit professional." I sighed. I'd had enough of being professional. Ever since I got assigned to this mission all I'd heard was "act professional.", it was even in my mission brief when Steve first asked for me. But this is my job and Steve is my boss so what he says goes and I have no option but to obey his order.

That night, I didn't sleep at all. I felt like one of the prisoners that these cells were designed to contain. What didn't help was that I could hear Bucky tapping on the wall again and I was forced to ignore it because 3 a.m. Cell visits probably weren't very professional. He was probably going crazy in there. Not to mention the fact that he showed signs of anxiety, depression and a touch of split personality disorder thanks to the brainwashing. He was fighting a war against himself and nobody was helping him fight back. Then I thought about something Steve had said earlier:

"Your job is to be his therapist..." As his therapist, my job was to help him improve his mental state, so that's exactly what I decided to do. I shot up out of bed and, despite the fact that these cells were freezing cold at night time, I went to Bucky's room as fast as I could wearing only my pyjamas.

As usual, I scanned my card and opened the door. Unlike the last two times I'd seen him in here, Bucky was facing the door expectantly.

"You okay?" I asked, hurriedly closing the door behind me and walking over to perch myself on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah," he replied, looking at me with a slight sparkle in his eyes, "Just lonely. I feel like nobody actually wants me here."

"Trust me," I assured him, "People want you here. Steve spent the last year and a half of his life trying to find you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been all over the world looking for you in every place you've ever been seen or stationed."

"And Steve is, well, was, my best friend, correct?"

"That's right."

"Then why doesn't he ever come to visit me or ask how I'm doing?"

"He does ask how you're doing, he's just busy since he's the highest level agent we have here so he has to run the place." Bucky digested this piece of information and then said

"I want to meet him."

"Are you sure you can handle that?"

"Maybe not while he's alone, but if he came with you then I might be able to."

"Ok, I'll see if I can tear him away from his work tomorrow." I smiled

"Thanks." Bucky returned the gesture. "Why are you still awake anyway?"

"I had a bad day." I said, looking down at my feet and shivering. Suddenly, I felt a weight lift off of the bed and looked up to see Bucky crossing the room to a pile of clothes, pulling out a black jumper that I'd supplied him with, and bringing it over to me.

"Tell me." he said, holding out the jumper for me to take. So I did. I put on the jumper, turned so that I was mirroring Bucky's cross legged position in the middle of his bed and told him about what had happened after dinner.

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