Out of Oblivion

By agenteleanor107

11.5K 614 58

This is a Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes fanfiction. All characters, themes, and other titles such as SHIELD are... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue

Chapter 7

263 11 1
By agenteleanor107

That night in my apartment, I had planned on watching a movie and not thinking about work. I wanted to keep my mind off what had happened, but nothing would distract my thoughts.

I had put in Lady and the Tramp, a childhood favorite. When I got the part where the Tramp meets Lady and tells her what a “wee barren” is, I directed my attention to the files taped over my walls. Each of the Avengers, and others who were close counterparts.

I brought myself to stand up and gaze upon the Winter Soldier’s file.

“Bucky Barnes…107th infantry…train accident…captured by Hydra…” I read over his file, trying to engrain the lies in my head, as if that would make them truth.

 A shudder wrapped my body at the memory of his sad, pleading eyes. I sank back onto the couch and stared at the screen although my mind was elsewhere.

My mind was interrupted by the sound of my phone buzzing. I searched for it, hobbling around the apartment like a limp. I finally found it on the kitchen table, chirping and bouncing on the wood.

It was Grace. “Hey,” I breathed.

“El, I just wanted to see how you were doing. Riley told me you had an interview with Barnes today and never returned to the office.”

I sank down into a kitchen chair with my elbow propped up, holding my head. “Riley? Was he worried or something?”

“El, you didn’t contact him at all. You always do.”

            I gave her silence. Inside the phone I could hear her sigh.

            “El…I’m worried about you.”

            “I’m fine. Really.”

            “Let me come over.”

            “No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

            “No, El. I’m coming. You’re not communicating with me.”

            Before I could retaliate, she hung up. I dropped the phone on the table rested my head on my arm. My apartment was a mess. Papers, notes, files, empty water bottles, and chip crumbs spotted the floor by the couch. I felt like a slob. Grace would say something.

            It must have taken Grace longer than usual to arrive because I was awoken by pounding on my door. I sat up with a jolt, wiping the slobber off the side of my mouth.

            I tripped to the door and opened it. When I saw the look on Grace’s face, I turned away from her in shame. I must have looked like a dirty mop.

            “I knew I should have come. Why do you do this, El?” Grace whined, pushing past me.

            “Yes, come in. It’s nice to see you…” I muttered, shutting the door.

            I flinched without turning around as I heard her exclaim, “Eleanor Stanton! What the fondue is this mess? Good grief…”

            “I know…I know…really, Grace, I’m not in the mood for Mama Grace.” I shuffled over to the couch and began scraping up the papers and stacking them on the coffee table.

            “Looks like you need Mama Grace. How can you live like this?”

            Her question stung me more than I wanted it to. The problem was, I really didn’t live. I grieved over Heather, I denied the Winter Soldier, and I wrote articles. That was my life…if it could be called that.

            “Did you come to scrutinize me, or help me?” I snapped.

            Grace didn’t reply. She was gaping at my collection of files. “Does it help?”

            “What?”

            “To keep them plastered over your walls?”

            “Well, yes.”

            Grace turned to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. I stood up, holding a collection of water bottles. “El.”

            “Yes?” I asked when she didn’t say anything.

            “Look at me,” she commanded. I sighed and looked at her forest green gaze. They were glossy, as if she was going to cry. “It’s time.”

            “Time for what?” I gave her a puzzled stare.

            “Time to let go.”

            I shrugged her hand off my shoulder. “Let go? Of what? Heather?”

            “No, you know what I mean. Don’t be like this. It’s time to let go of the pain and bitterness.” She stepped towards me, but I stepped back.

            A familiar feeling began to form in my stomach. “Grace, can’t you see? I can’t let go.”

            “Yes, you can. You’re just not trying.”

            I slammed the bottles onto the ground. “You think I’m not trying? You think I’m not trying to be happy and go a day without thinking of her? You think I walk around, not trying to block out all the things in my life that remind me of her?”

            The tears slipped from Grace’s eyes, but her gaze never left me. “I know it’s hard, El, but you have to trust me! You can’t live this way anymore! You’re effecting everyone around you. Everyone knows you’re in pain. You walk around each day like a…like a fan, fanning everyone with your wretched bitterness.”

            I groaned, feeling the monster clawing at my throat. “I hate my wretched bitterness, Grace! If I could get rid of it, I would! But the only thing that could wipe all that bitterness away is if Heather were here, but she’s not, and she never will be. I’m all alone, Grace. Everyday I’m—“

            “I’m here.”

            My words caught in my throat. I was breathing so hard, I hardly heard her. All I could do was stare at her, the anger inside me shaking me to the core.

            “I’m here, El. I always have been.”

            It was then that I heard her. It was then that I broke. It was then that I felt the monster named Anger break inside of me.

            My body shook violently. My face was wet with tears and the muscles in my legs felt slushy. Grace wrapped her arms around me and held me. I’m not sure how long it was. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. All I know is that every ounce of pain I had been harboring inside of me was emptied from my soul.

            When all the tears had been spilt, I found myself waking up, still being held by Grace, but on the couch. I wedged my way out of her embrace and rubbed my head. It throbbed harshly.

            “What time is it?” I mumbled.

            “It’s five in the morning,” I heard Grace reply.

            Stretching, I stood up and walked to the kitchen for water. When I turned around with a glass of water in my hands, Grace was standing by the front door.

            “I’d better go. Might as well get an early start at work today,” she told me.

            I nodded and she opened the door to leave.

            “Grace,” I called. She stopped and turned to me. “Thank you.”

            A warm smile broke across her face as she left.

            As I headed back to my bedroom to get ready, my steps were light and easy, as if a heavy boulder had been removed from my shoulders.

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