Stucky One Shots

Butterflies [High School AU part 3]

TW - Self harm

Bucky POV

As ever, Bucky-luck meant he was teaching, but I somehow managed to pluck up the courage to knock on and ask, "Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but I was wondering if I could speak to you for a second? It's about my recent assignment." I lied smoothly so his class wouldn't question me.

"Yeah, of course. If you wait outside I'll be there in a second." I nodded and closed the door behind me, then waited in the hallway. "James, what's up?"

"You said I could leave if I wanted to?"

"Yes, yeah of course. I'll send a message down to the office staff. Can someone come and get you? It's easier to say you have an appointment and someone's coming to collect you than make up something more detailed."

"I think so. If not, I'll make something up about them collecting me at the top of the street." I told him, hoping Steve or Sam would be able to come and get me.

"That works for me. Send me an email when you're home, let me know how everything is."

"Will do, thank you, sir." He nodded a goodbye as I headed towards the office. I dawdled a little, making sure the message he sent had time to go through.

Steve came and picked me up withing ten minutes of me texting him. "Bucky, what happened?"

"I forgot long sleeves. Nick was an arse the second I walked in. Managed to get the butterflies though." I told him.

"Yeah, that's great, but how the hell did you manage to get out?"

"My English professor is much nicer than I thought. Saw how uncomfortable I was about it and helped me make a cover story after my meeting to help me go home." I told him what the meeting was about, and we stopped on the way home to get food, then headed out of town.

"Where are we going?"

"To see Becca." Was all the answer I got.

Becca's ashes had been scattered in the flower meadow she loved so much in downtown New York, and the owner of the field had been nice enough to let us put a bench in the corner and said we can come and sit there any time we want.

I huddled into Steve's side once we were sat on her bench, breathing in his smell, loving the fact I was here, with him again.

After losing dad, Becca was only ten, and it had hit her hard. I found Steve three years later and he'd become another brother to her. She'd looked up to him as the male role model she never had.

Looking out over the field, I could still see her doing cartwheels in the shorter grass, then running through the long flower stems. She loved picking flowers for mom, cornflowers were her favourite.

I hadn't realised I'd started crying until Steve pulled me into his lap and cradled me close. The small jots running through him told me that he was crying too.

We sat there for an hour, in silence, just crying together. Who knew just crying could be so cathartic? Slowly, we both began to bring ourselves back to some form of reality.

"I'm sorry. You didn't need this right now." He muttered, kissing the top of my head. His voice was rough, thick with emotion.

"No, I really did. I love you, Stevie. You always know what I need."

Steve was going out with friends that night, celebrating a late twenty-first and the fact he was home and safe. Nights when I was alone like I had been for eighteen months, made everything harder. It made it harder to stay clean.