Honesty ♧ Bucky Barnes

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

"Not too bad," She answered honestly, "Students can be a pain in the arse at times, but it's been a good week."

"And how about your relationships outside work?"

Erin let out a deep sigh. Since she came back from Poland, complete with scars and a tremor in her left hand that would go away no matter how much yoga she did, her friendship group had slowly dwindled. She couldn't blame them. It wasn't particularly exciting to hang around with a girl who jumped every time she heard a loud noise.

"I saw Bruce on Monday for coffee." She answered. Kennedy raised an eyebrow.

"Anything else?"

"Daveed from the Medical department asked me out on a date," she continued. A small smile spread across the doctor's face.

"That's brilliant, Erin! A strong relationship is exactly what you need at the moment. Something to take your mind off everything that's been going on recently. How do you feel about it?"

She leant her head back, crossing her hands over her lap.

"Alright. A bit nervous."

"Do you like him?"

"Yeah," she answered truthfully, "He seems like a nice guy."

The doctor jotted something down on his paper and looked back up at Erin, his face serious.

"What about the nightmares? Have they been getting any better?"

There was a long silence before Erin answered, her voice quiet.

"It's always the same."

Kennedy nodded, closing the file and placing it on his lap, looking at Erin intently.

"The man with the metal arm?"

He didn't fail to notice the way that Erin flinched slightly when he spoke, but decided not to mention it. Her hand was twitching again, the first and second fingers drumming an erratic rhythm on her leg.

"I'm running. I'm always running, usually from Pine. Sometimes from unknown soldiers. Sometimes even from Goodwinson."

Kennedy raised an eyebrow. He knew, of course, the names of all of the people Erin had been in contact with during her time in Krakow. She had told him enough times that he had memorised every detail.

"Goodwinson? What do you think that means?"

Erin rubbed her hand across her jawline.

"He's angry at me. I didn't save him."

"You still blame yourself for his death." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Erin nodded regardless.

"He was twenty-one. He was just a kid."

"He was only two years younger than you are Erin," The doctor seemed adamant, "It wasn't your fault that Pine killed him."

"It was my fault he tried to help me to escape."

"What happens next?" Kennedy moved on from the subject of Goodwinson. He knew that Erin beat herself up over not saving the boy. "In your dream, what happens next?"

"I'm running, and suddenly, the ground falls out from beneath me and I'm hanging onto the floor for dear life, my legs dangling into nothing."

"Dreams of falling can often symbolise your own fears of failure," Kennedy interjected but Erin didn't seem to even notice he had spoken. Her eyes had almost glazed over as she thought.

"He's always there. The man with the metal arm. He's standing above me, arm outstretched. It looks like he's going to help me up, but at the last second-"