Honesty ♧ Bucky Barnes

Return Of The King (im so sorry im a lotr nerd)

"Erin. Sorry about this," he gestured to himself, "I wanted to catch you after your lecture but I thought it finished at five?"

She snorted. Theoretically, it finished at five, the reality was often quite different.

"I let them out early. It's Friday, they're young. They deserve a drink."

Daveed smiled at that.

"Speaking of drinks, Jefferson, I was wondering if you'd like to go out tonight?"

Erin was slightly taken aback to say the least. She had barely ever spoken to the guy but she supposed that if a few of the teachers were going out, it might be fun to tag along.

"Sure," she grinned, "Who else is going?"

He chuckled self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, shuffling slightly in his place.

"I was hoping just the two of us."

Oh. Oh.

"You mean like a date?" Erin's smile returned. Well, this was flattering.

The man nodded. "If I pick you up around seven, is that okay?"

"Seven. Yeah. Seven sounds good." She hoisted her back slightly higher on her shoulder, "Seven sounds great. Could I get your number?"

Daveed reached into his pocket and produced a small business card. Nice. Erin was going on a date with a guy who had his own business cards. She was going up in the world.

"See you then. Wear something nice." Daveed smiled and tilted his head to her, before walking back the way he had come, his hands in his pockets. Erin couldn't help but notice that he had slightly more of a swagger to his walk than he had done before their conversation. She smiled to herself.

It seemed like her life really was getting back on track.

She exited the university to blaring sunlight and smiled inwardly to herself. It was a lovely day. She considered momentarily going for a jog but decided against it when she noted the time. She had an appointment with her therapist at half five, and her watch was slowly approaching ten to.

That was Bruce's fault as well.

He had been on the helicopter that had flown into Krakow to rescue her, what felt like so long ago. He had seen first-hand what she had looked like, sat alone in that dingy Hotel, her legs more scar tissue than skin. He had physically carried her into the chopper, regardless of her protests that she was 'fine goddamnit'.

As soon as her feet had got back on American soil, Bruce had set her up with Dr Kennedy, a S.H.I.E.L.D. psychiatrist who specialised in post-traumatic stress. Erin had originally refused point blank to see him but over time, she had begun to trust the guy. There was something about his smooth baritone voice and slightly greying curly black hair that managed to relax her. Even after S.H.I.E.L.D. had come crumbling down, Erin continued to see Dr Kennedy.

The nightmares weren't as frequent on the days that she talked to him.

She reached his office ten minutes early and patiently sat outside in the waiting room until he opened the door, a smile on his face, his bright white teeth juxtaposing his coffee-coloured skin.

"Erin, come on in."

She smiled and picked up her bag, walking into his office and plonking herself down in one of the thickly padded armchairs that he had scattered around the room.

"How was your week?"

The doctor rooted around in his desk before picking out a thick black ring-binder. Her file. He opened it up, sifting through the pages, and picked up a pen, looking at her expectantly.