Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 18

Not likely to see the sun again, the sky. The stars. Just thinking on it brought forward memories too painful to dwell on. Memories of rooftop dinners and dark curls that tickled his neck. Of sunflower pendants. Of bright, empathetic hazel eyes with flecks of grey and gold in them. He could feel the tiny, flickering hope he'd somehow managed to keep alive for the past year faltering with each passing moment. He stared at the roof of the cell, where the glass joined with metal, reinforced and fortified to keep him in, struggling to make his mind go blank.

It didn't work. His head fell slowly toward his chest as the ache of longing only seemed to intensify. So, grudgingly, he turned his attention to the man—some sort of psychiatrist, he imagined—figuring on at least a temporary distraction to keep from dwelling on things he was never going to have.

Of what he'd lost by running.

Of who he was never going to see again.

"I'm not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions." A bitter laugh caught in his chest, not making it far enough to produce a sound. Everyone judged. He'd done monstrous things, so it was inevitable. That he was here, now, proved that. No one had even considered that he might not have done it. No one had bothered to even talk to him about it. Not even this doctor. No one, save Steve. 

And there would likely never be just 'a few' questions.

Broken as his mind was, he wasn't so naïve as that.

"Do you know where you are, James?" The calm, measured voice was already becoming grating and irritation caused Bucky's jaw to clench as he fought back the urge to snap back. The doctor paused, as though waiting for Bucky to respond. Bucky wasn't about to indulge him, not if he could help it, especially not if he kept calling him that. Bucky could see the doctor watching him closely in his peripheral vision. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James." It took a firm act of willpower to keep from grinding his teeth, his frustration finally getting the better of him.

"My name is Bucky," he ground out, jaw clenching shut as soon as the words were out of his mouth, preventing anything else from slipping out. Only one person is allowed to call me James and you aren't her, he wanted to snap at the collected man before him. But Bucky wasn't about to put Iris at risk like that. Likely they'd assume he was referring to his mother or sister or other long lost person from his past, but he wasn't about to take that chance.

The doctor just continued to stare before glancing down to his notes, jotting something down. He looked—pleased? Bucky finally gave in and looked directly at the doctor, not bothering to temper his glare. He wasn't happy to be here. He wasn't happy being interrogated like this, because it was an interrogation. They could call it whatever they wanted—a psychological evaluation, whatever—but it was still an interrogation. Why did they care? They had already condemned him whether they admitted to it or not.

The doctor stared mildly back. "Tell me, Bucky," if anything, he suddenly found that more irritating than being called James, "You've seen a great deal, haven't you." Bucky forced in a deep breath, weighing whether or not to respond.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he finally answered, his voice low and hard. The mild look didn't change, but Bucky had the sense that the doctor was very much unperturbed by the response, even pleased. What sort of interrogation was this?

"You feel that if you open your mouth the horrors might never stop?" Bucky's jaw clenched again, his teeth beginning to ache with the pressure as the words dug painfully into him. He leaned his head back against the headrest, though he kept his eyes fixed surreptitiously on the Doctor. There was more truth there than the doctor knew.

"Don't worry," the doctor said, glancing over to his tablet. And then he was looking up to Bucky again, a harsh glimmer in his eyes. Bucky's gut churned. Something was wrong here. "We only have to talk about one." A wary dread blossomed in the back of Bucky's mind as the doctor's mild glance grew sharp.