Never Separated

Eleven

Baking with only one arm was evidently close to impossible.

Bucky sat on the kitchen floor on Wednesday, disheartened, glaring at his left stump. He got himself up and turned back to the ingredients. The eggs the recipe took had shattered in the bowl, mixing shell in with the dough. Flour was all over the floor and counters, which were also sprinkled with sugar and salt.

He picked up the milk with his hand and poured a cupful in, then went to set the milk down. A burning pain raced through his left arm and he grimaced, dropping the milk to grip his limb, and of course, found it missing. "Agh, f*ck," he hissed as he clutched at his stump.

He stared down at the mess and made a sound of helpless frustration. Charlie poked his head around the corner and snuck in, walking cautiously.

"Hey, need a hand?" He immediately cringed and slapped his forehead. "Christ, I'm an idiot," he hissed as he walked over. Bucky didn't even lift his head, still cradling where his arm had been.

"You okay?" Charlie asked, squeezing his shoulder. Bucky shrugged.

"I guess."

"I'll help you clean up," he volunteered. Bucky nodded mutely and they started to clean.

////

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to say goodbye," Elaine said.

Steve swallowed but stood his ground. His parents weren't home. Both were at work. Anxiety welled in his chest and he stared down Elaine.

"Do I not get a hug from my favourite grandson?"

"Don't touch me," Steve said quietly. Elaine got that look on her face and moved forward, raised her hand, and took his within her own. Steve bristled at the touch and yanked himself away.

"Steven, honey, I would never hurt you," she begged. "Whatever I've done, it's for your own good."

He flashed back to when he was young and naïve, and trusted hurtful relatives because they were family. He had to trust them, no matter what.

"You've always been horrible to me," he muttered.

"Take that back."

"No--!" A hit, and another one, and Steve darted away from her. "I'm sure your daughter will love to hear about what you've done to her son -- "

"This was the way Sarah was raised! Why do you think she came up so proper?" Steve rushed up the stairs and into his room. "When I get in there, Steven, you're in big trouble!"

"Christ, you're the worst," he breathed as he paced, jittery and afraid. He could easily overpower her, but she was family -- and still, a part of him wanted to run to her and be comforted, because she was doing this for his own good, right?

Steve shook his head violently. No. What she's doing is wrong. I don't deserve this.

I deserve to be happy.

Elaine came through the door, crying at him. "Why do you upset me this way?" she cried. "Just come here and apologise, Steven. I'm only trying to help you become the man you need to be!"

"Get out."

Elaine blinked, and laughed a scornful laugh. "Steven -- "

"Get out! You're a sorry excuse for family and I never want to see you again," Steve snapped, trying to hold onto the anger, willing himself not to cry, he wasn't going to cry --

She lashed out again and he edged his way onto the balcony, panic almost overwhelming him. He stared at her helplessly and Elaine wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I never wanted this, I was trying to help you!"

"Please go away." His voice wavered and another wave of anxiety crashed into him, he was losing his edge, that meant she was winning, Steve was going to get hurt again and again and again --

He was backed as far as he could be away from her, flinching every time she moved closer or raised her arm. His mind was going into overdrive, fear was choking him, there was no way out, no way out, no way out --

He leapt across the way, onto the precarious wooden platform, and banged on the window with his fist. Elaine sobbed and exited swiftly, grabbing her phone and calling Sarah to complain.

"Steve?"

"Fancy seeing you here," Steve said shakily as he staggered in. Bucky caught him and led him to the bed, and sat him down. Steve tried to keep his cool, but his shallow breathing gave it away. Sensing a panic attack coming on, Bucky scooched closer and wrapped his arm around him, shushing him and rubbing his back.

Steve worked hard on being silent and getting a hold of himself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry -- she caught me off-guard, there was nowhere else I could've gone, she might be on her way over right now for all I know -- " He was rambling, tears in his eyes, but he couldn't seem to be able to stop. "But I stood up to her, I told her she was horrible and I really, really want to hate her, Buck. But I trusted her so much and -- "

"Slow down, you'll hyperventilate," Bucky said. "What happened?"

"She hit me again," he muttered and rubbed his face, staring downwards. Bucky took his hand and watched him worriedly. "I don't know what to do," he said, chewing his lower lip.

"You're safe here. You think anyone like that will get past my mother?" He attempted a small smile, and Steve stared at his trembling hands.

"I didn't think it'd be this hard," he murmured and cleared his throat. "She... hurt me, so I should hate her. But she was all I had, and -- "

"You need to tell your parents," Bucky suggested in a quiet voice, looking at him, concerned. Steve frowned at the idea and swallowed, looking at him.

"You think so?" He still felt his mother's wedding ring slicing into his cheek, his grandmother's calloused hands colliding with his head.

"I know it'll be hard," he said gently. "But you have to, Steve, or this'll never stop."

He was silent as he contemplated this, and he took a shaky breath. "I'm tired, Buck," he muttered. "We never get a break, do we?"

"We still have the rest of the week to turn this around," he reminded, lifting his chin to look at him. "C'mon, it'll be okay."

Steve finally cracked a smile and tilted his head, his eyes warm as he studied him. "You're incredible, Bucky Barnes," he spoke. "I have no idea where I'd be right now without you."

Bucky smiled at that, his cheeks tinted red. "I don't know either," he mused and Steve's smile grew.

He held him close and regretted the way that it felt... different. He glanced down at his stump and swallowed heavily, closing his eyes and focusing instead on Steve.