RAISON D'ÊTRE ( bucky barnes ) 一 under editing

NINETEENTH

RAISON D'ÊTRE
NINETEENTH

WHEN THEY ARRIVED BACK AT their motel room, Rome had ordered Bucky to sit down on the bed and wait until she told him otherwise. He did as he was told wordlessly, sitting on the edge and holding his head in his hands as Rome walked around. Bucky had watched as she moved around the room, removing her shoes and advancing towards the tiny bathroom they shared. There was something in her gait that revealed her anxiety, and he lowered his gaze even further. He hadn't ever wanted to show Rome that side of him. She'd been with him on a mission before, seen him fight but this was so different. His actions tonight had been brutal, a primal rage he thought was buried deep in him. Bucky had seen the fear in her eyes, and he wanted to scream. She told him she wouldn't leave but... now he wouldn't blame her if he did.

While he sat on the bed, Rome stood in the bathroom and grabbed one of the small towels and quickly wet it under the sink. As she waited for it to get wet, she looked up at herself in the mirror. Some of the man's blood had gotten on her cheek, and she wiped it away with her thumb. Other than that, she looked relatively the same. There was a little red around her eyes and they looked puffy, but she still looked the same. Rome sniffled quietly and she bit her lip. It was terrifying to see him lose control like that, and she bowed her head. She had silently hoped that with their leaving HYDRA, it would have made him better, as if the brainwashing would have disappeared within time, but she knew that wasn't true in the slightest. HYDRA had broken him, written and rewritten him just so he could become their little plaything. A few weeks away from them wouldn't heal him from their touch, and she'd been too naïve to think otherwise. She didn't even want to think about where he had gotten the gun...

Rome emerged from the bathroom and wasn't surprised to see Bucky still sitting on the bed. Holding the wet towel in her hand, she moved and kneeled in front of him. She took one of his hands and saw his knuckles, skin ripped and split to reveal red, and she couldn't tell where Bucky's blood began and where the man's ended. She pressed the towel against his knuckles and he let out a small hiss.

"Sorry," she whispered but continued her work. They were silent for a minute, and her brows knitted together. "What happened back there?"

Bucky's response was quiet, eyes watching as she cleaned his hand. "I saw you and that man and then... it was like I was back," he murmured sadly. "Like they were back in my head all over again. Seeing you... it was like something triggered." He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing loudly through his nose.

Rome shook her head, pausing in her actions. "James, it's okay. You didn't mean it."

"But I did!" Shoving himself off the bed, Bucky brushed past her and stood in the middle of the room. Bucky faced the wall, his hands at his sides, and staring down harshly at the ground. "I almost killed him, Rome... and I wanted to do it... God!" He punched the wall, the paint starting to crack. Luckily, he hadn't noticed Rome jump, and he continued speaking. "When we left, I told myself I wanted to be better. That I wasn't just going to be their... toy anymore, but here I am. I became exactly what they wanted me to be 一 their monster."

"Don't you dare," Rome said, standing up. "You are not a monster, you never have been. And you may not see it but I can. You're changing." She stepped closer to him, standing less than a foot from him, but she stopped herself from reaching out. "When we first met, you were quiet and distant and cold... but you're not like that anymore. You're not their Winter Soldier anymore. You are good, so good. And I'm all right, James, I'm fine."

"He could have killed you." Turning to look at her, he pressed both of his hands on her shoulders. She looked so small from his view, but still so pretty.