alexa, play control by halsey
DAY 1
"Are you sure about this?"
Steve anxiously peeked over at Amelia as he spoke. The elevator hummed quietly as they made their way down to the floor where James resided. Rogers was undoubtedly worried about her, however, she couldn't contain her growing excitement as the numbers on the elevator gradually went lower. Her belongings were already waiting for her in the guest bedroom and the fridge and cabinets were fully stocked with her favorite items - all of this had to be done while James was still sleeping, of course.
"I can handle myself, Rogers," she reminded him frivolously as she took a sip from her coffee.
She was amused by how obviously nervous he seemed. Steve stood with his arms behind his back, in his usual stance, as his jaw clenched. This made the challenge that more thrilling - this was what she loved to do.
"I know," his eyes gazed down at the floor. "I'm just being cautious. Buck isn't exactly ... welcoming."
"I never expected him to be," she stated coolly.
His head bobbed up and down understandingly, careful to not push on the subject anymore than he already had. "Alright. Let's go over the conditions one more time."
After being briefed on the full history and mental state of James Barnes, Amelia was asked to agree to some terms and conditions in order to be allowed to follow through on this assignment. Despite their attempts at clearly trying to scare her away, she was rather unfazed, still.
"If things go awry, I am to immediately call you. This includes but is not limited to mental abuse, physical abuse, or threats of any kind of harm," she pointed out the first condition with a raised eyebrow, glancing at Steve with teasing eyes.
"Good, what's next?"
"I am to report back to the three of you every ten days to talk about the progress that has been made with James."
"And last one?"
"If there isn't any progress made by the second meeting, this project will be over," she grumbled under her breath. Amelia wasn't very fond of this last stipulation - therapy was not something you could exactly put a time limit on.
The elevator came to a swift stop as the doors glided open in front of them. Steve allowed her to step off first, closely following behind, before guiding her down a brightly lit hallway. The further they walked, the more she could hear faint sounds of grunting and metal clattering against metal. As they entered a modern, grey colored room that held different types of workout equipment, she caught sight of him.
James Buchanan Barnes was perched flat on his back, wearing only a black pair of pants and black boots, lifting a weight bar up and down. With each lift, his grunts became more and more strained. Amelia couldn't help but immediately assess his metal arm - it stopped right at his shoulder, where there were scars that resembled claw marks. Her mind flickered back to Tony mentioning the fact that Barnes had tried to get his arm off on multiple occasions.
His long strands of sweaty, black hair moved slightly along his face with every grunt that escaped his full lips. His face looked as if it hadn't been shaved in quite some time but his torso was bare of any hair, all that could be seen were the beads of sweat trickling down his skin.
"Hey, Buck," Steve cleared his throat, announcing their presence in the room.
Bucky shifted the metal bar back onto its resting position before sitting up to catch the sight of his friend, Steve, and Amelia standing a few feet in front of him. His dull, blue eyes instantly fell upon her, observing her striking hazel eyes and long, black hair that sat right above her lower back. He helplessly noticed how her pale pink skirt fit snugly on her noticeable curves, making him tighten in his pants. The effect this stranger had on him was maddening.
"What the fuck is this?"
His gruff voice filled the room, sending tiny chills down her spine. She shifted calmly on her feet as she nonchalantly sipped at her coffee once more, waiting for Rogers to get the hard part out of the way.
"This is Dr. Amelia Rose," Steve introduced her smoothly, motioning towards her with one of his hands. "She is going to be staying here with you for a while."
"You brought me a babysitter?" James seethed through his teeth, narrowing his eyes at Steve before standing up from the bench.
"I didn't come here to babysit you," her velvety, smooth voice was like music to his ears.
"A therapist, Steve?" his eyes darted towards Amelia before glaring back at Rogers. His head cocked to the side slightly. "I don't need a therapist."
"The choice wasn't up to you," Amelia stated impassively, keeping her voice calm and collected so he wouldn't see her as a threat. "I'm here on orders."
"So, they have people spying on me now?" The bottle of water that was next to the bench was suddenly being thrown across the room, crashing into the wall with a loud thud, making Amelia flinch lightly. Steve remained still, used to the antics of Buck. "Why can't you all just leave me the fuck alone? Is that too difficult for you to do?"
"I'm sorry, Bucky," Steve apologized, his face scrunching up at his angry friend. He hated to see Buck this way, so angry and mad all of the time.
Barnes was pacing back and forth now, his hair still strewn in front of his face, which was formed into a scowl. Amelia felt sorry for him; his trauma had made him a recluse. He wanted solidarity from the world, to be left alone, even if it was the worst thing for him.
"You think this miss priss is going to make everything better?" he grumbled, peering up at Steve before looking back down at the ground. "She's just going to magically come in here and fix me right up, huh?"
"Everyone is just trying to help you, Buck," Rogers pleaded with his voice. His hands that were behind his back for the majority of the time were now held out cautiously, as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. "We're just trying to look out for you."
James swung his metal arm around in a quick circle like he was readjusting it back into place as his head lifted to stare at them. "I don't want your help. I want everyone to just fuck off."
Before Steve could plead with him anymore, he swiftly retreated back down the hallway until he was inside of his room, slamming the door loudly behind him. He despised his friend for betraying him this way and he despised Amelia even more for intruding on his alone time. What could be more frustrating than this wildly attractive woman coming to bother him?
"I told you he wasn't exactly welcoming."
She sheepishly peered up at Steve through her lashes as she gave him a reassuring, closed-lip smile. This process was bound to be difficult - this was to be expected. Frankly, the more of a challenge there was, the more Amelia wanted to conquer it head on.
"Let me walk you out," she offered quietly.
"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" he asked as they walked together back down the hallway and towards the elevator. "I could help you get settled."
Amelia sighed teasingly as she pressed the button on the wall for him. "Steve, I can handle this. I appreciate everything you have done so far, but I've got this."
His lips curved slightly in the corners as the doors opened melodiously. "I know, Rose," he groaned tentatively as he stepped into the elevator. "Trust me, I know more than anyone."
She bashfully dropped her head to glance down at her white boots at his comment. The curvature of her plump lips made his stomach flip. His crush for Amelia was something else he had been struggling to work on for a while.
"Why won't you just let me take you on a date?"
She cocked her head sideways, chewing at the inside of her lip at another one of his attempts. It wasn't uncommon for a patient to feel comfortable enough with their therapist to mistake their being comfortable for something else - such as attraction.
"I don't date patients," she smiled softly at him, just as he returned the smile and the elevator doors closed between them.
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Amelia finished up the rest of her dinner before downing the rest of her wine glass. The kitchen was dimly lit - the walls were also grey, the cabinets were black with marble counter-tops. All of the appliances were a stainless steel material. It was surprisingly cozy sitting in the quiet, dull room. All of the rooms so far had mirrored James - dull.
He hadn't come out of his room once since going in rather angrily earlier. Even so, she cooked enough pasta to leave some leftovers for him in case he came out during the night because he was hungry.
Replenishing her wine and sticking the remaining pasta into a leftover container, she strolled down the hallway, wine glass in hand. She didn't stop until she was in front of Bucky's bedroom door, tapping on it lightly.
Nothing.
"James?"
All she heard was stillness.
"There's some leftover pasta in the fridge whenever you decide to come out and eat."
As she suspected, it remained very quite inside his room. She hadn't expected him to warm up to her right away. Based on how moody he had acted when she first arrived, it was clear that she was not welcome here in his mind. It was obviously going to be quite a challenge trying to speak with him, let alone interview him.
She was up for the challenge.