Safe with me

Chapter 5: Where you go, I go

Lost in thought, you stare out the window, contemplating the steady fall of rain. The city was a watercolor painting against the night sky, a canvas smeared with blurry oranges and yellows, the sharp angles of skyscrapers reduced to soft black smudges. Lightning flashed and flickered, illuminating the dark apartment, and the crash of thunder follows instantaneously. It reverberates through the bones of Manhattan, steel and metal and concrete, rattling your thoughts. Your brain nudges you again, remembering yesterday's conversation.

*****

Jack is waiting next to your desk when you return from lunch, an expectant look on his face. Wordlessly, he hands over three thick files.

"All the back-up was emailed as well, but I know you like hard copies. I want short summaries posted to the 'Political Fast Facts' section every evening, and a feature-length story for the Sunday edition. Send everything direct to me for edit and review."

Pinching your bottom lip, you nod briskly. He notices the dismal expression.

"Did you try talking to him?"

"I did."

"Then I take it he won't budge?"

"No. He won't."

"It's his decision, you know that. He's a professional. He won't let his personal feelings get in the way."

*****

Hugging the steaming cup of pre-dawn coffee close to your chest, the heat of the ceramic mug seeps through the thin fabric of your shirt, warming your skin. Taking a small sip, you glance back to the red notebook sitting open on the coffee table, the creamy white sheets blank. Yesterday's lunch conversation with him replays again, vividly fresh.

*****

Digging two sodas from a paper bag, Bucky hands you a diet Coke and sets his Dr. Pepper on the bench.

"I don't understand why you drink diet Coke, it's shit."

"Because I like the taste, asshat."

"It's gross."

"Your face is gross."

He grins and snaps the tab on his soda, continuing picking up his ongoing stream of instruction. "Fair enough. Anyway, I'll pick you up at 6:30, I want to miss the morning rush. Make sure you're ready."

Rubbing your finger along the edge of the soda can, you stay quiet. Knowing him for several weeks now, there hasn't been a single thing you've been afraid to say. Until now. He realizes something's wrong, and he goes still, waiting patiently for you to speak. Lifting nervous eyes to his face, you force the words out in a rush.

"Hey, so listen."

Bucky tenses immediately, setting down the soda can and shaking his head. "No."

"Bucky stop, just listen for a minute."

"No."

"You stubborn dick, can you just let me get this out? Just - just let me go into the trial alone. It's ridiculous for you to sit in that courtroom and re-live this shit," you argue heatedly. "It's okay, alright? I'll be okay. You can wait right outside the door, less than 20 feet away. Just because you're not sitting with me, doesn't mean you're not doing your job. It's okay Bucky, really. I don't mind."

"No."

At the defiant clench of his jaw, you want to stamp your feet. Nothing about this response is surprising, but you try one final time. "For the first time in my life, I'm not trying to be a pain in your ass Bucky, I swear. I just don't want to make you uncomfortable. That's all I'm saying."