The Broken Ones
Chapter Two:
I used to know him
Darcy struggled with the boxes Stark had instructed her to bring down to the lobby. She pinned them between the wall of the elevator and her body using her weight to keep the boxes steady. She could put them down but the effort it would take to lift them back up again wasn't worth it. Also, it would be much more difficult to lift them back up now that they weren't on a table. So it was best she just held onto them.
Huffing, she blew a strand of hair off of her face. Why was she doing this again? Didn't Stark have lackeys for this? She was pretty sure he has muscle bound lackeys that could deal with heavy boxes better then she could. Of course she could have also taken the boxes down one at a time but who had time for that? The elevator slowed to a stop on the soldier's floor as Darcy liked to call it. She made a face at the doors, unsure of whether she should perk up or sigh. Slowly sliding open, the doors revealed none other than the Captain himself and his trusty two sidekicks. They stared at each other for a beat before Steve nodded.
"Ma'am," he said. Causing Darcy to roll her eyes.
"Darcy," he corrected himself as he stepped into the elevator and frowned at her, taking in her predicament.
"Would you l-"
"Help her, Punk!" Bucky pushed him forward and winked at her as he stepped onto the elevator.
"It's fi-"
"I was going to offer, before you interrupted," Steve cut her off and scowled at Bucky. Bending down he took the boxes out of her arms without so much as a huff of effort.
"Okay, thank you." Darcy shook out her arms awkwardly. "Yay for having muscles."
"They do come in handy," Sam laughed as he pressed the button for the man floor. Giving them a once over, Darcy noted they were dressed to go running. That's what they must be going to do, she thought.
"You moving out?" asked Sam, giving her a pointed look.
"No, Stark's having me bring these to the lobby for Happy to pick up and do something with," she explained. Was that a good look or a bad look, she thought to herself, did they want her to move out?
"Doesn't he have lackeys for that?" Bucky asked in disgust.
"Right?" she exclaimed as the doors to the elevator opened once more but this time on the floor she needed.
"Where too?" Steve asked, looking down at her with a smile.
"Happy's right over there" Darcy said, scanning the room and pointing to the driver. They crossed the room to Happy and gave the boxes over to the man with a smile and a nod. "Thanks for the help, Cap," said Darcy with a mock salute.
"Anytime, Ma'am," he replied with a smirk and a nod.
"Darcy," Sam nodded at her.
"Sam, Bucky." Darcy held her salute for them as they passed by her on their way out. Sam laughed and Bucky shook his head at her. Turning to head back up, Darcy smiled to herself, it was nice of Steve to help like that… even if he didn't want to.
Bucky watched as Steve added sugar to his coffee and scowled. Lifting his own cup to his lips, he took a sip of the strong, unaltered, black liquid.
"I don't know how you still drink it like that," Steve said, nodding towards the cup in Bucky's hands.
"I don't know when you started drinking your coffee like a dame," Bucky replied, ribbing him.
"I don't drink my coffee like a dame. Nothing is wrong with adding milk and sugar to a cup or with having a latte. Sam introduced me to lattes and they are good. You should try 'em."
"No thanks," Bucky made a face. "Besides, the coffee is better these days in itself, doesn't need no fancy milk and sugar with vanilla bean," Bucky goaded Steve.
"Quiet, Jerk," said Steve taking a long sip of his coffee in response.
"Punk."
It was funny how a cup of coffee could set Bucky off. How one silly little drink could send him spiraling, but it had. He'd told Steve he needed to be clean and retreated to the bathroom without finishing his own coffee. Once there, he had turned on the water and sat on the floor in front of the shower. He had spent the next forty-five minutes rocking back and forth, fighting for control. He could feel it slipping away from him, but he wouldn't let go. He wouldn't lose himself; he had been doing so well. When it was over he stood, turned off the water and made his way to the sink.
Cleaning the steam off the mirror Bucky looked at himself. His eyes fell to the seam of flesh where his metal arm connected with his skin. He normally tried to avoid looking at it but today he couldn't keep his eyes off it. Hydra had taken him away from Steve. They had brainwashed him, they had destroyed him and they had made it so he no longer knew the love of his life. He had missed so much and now he no longer knew who Steve was.
Sure he knew Steve's history but someone's history is only one part of them. Steve had changed, physically and mentally, and Bucky didn't know how to deal with that. He used to know everything about Steve. He knew his sizes… he knew what size shirt, pant or shoe he took. He even knew what part of Steve's shoe would wear away first and when they would need to be replaced. He didn't know his sizes anymore.
Steve used to need him too. He needed him to stop fights, though Steve would never admit it. He used to need him on the nights when it was too cold to function and they couldn't afford to heat the house. They would share a bed and use their body heat to keep warm. Now Steve could stand up for himself and produced so much body heat he didn't need Bucky to cuddle with anymore. He didn't even need him as a friend anymore, if Bucky really thought about it. He had Sam and The Avengers now. People that cared about him and knew him now.
Bucky clenched his fists and shut his eyes tightly. He needed to stop thinking about this or he was going to lose control. He needed to get out of the apartment. He needed to be alone and away from people. He needed to hit something...
With a grunt Bucky's fist slammed against the reinforced punching back with enough force to send it swinging wildly. He glared at the flimsy bag and stopped it from swinging. Winding up for another punch he stopped as the door to the gym opened.
"Darcy," he acknowledged her before going back to hitting the bag as though everything wrong with the world was its fault.
"Don't mind me, just making sure everything is stocked and ready for Bruce's morning meditation and yoga routine." She crossed the room and went to work in a corner he couldn't see. After a few minutes, he had all but forgotten she was there – until she spoke. "Want to talk about it?" She made her way from the corner to stand beside his bag.
"Nothing to talk about," he said through gritted teeth.
"Really?" she asked incredulously, watching him pummel the defenseless punching bag. "Listen Barnes, I am only going to ask you one more time. Do you want to put on your big boy pants and talk about your problems like an adult or do you want to sulk and throw a tantrum like a child?"
"Tantrum." Like hell he was going to talk to her about Steve. He didn't know her that well. Hell, he didn't know anyone that well.
"Okay, then." She turned away from him and began to walk away.
"It's just…" Bucky found himself speaking before he could stop himself. "I don't know him anymore, not like I used too." Bucky dropped his guard and turned to face her. It was too late to take it back. "He's not the same Steve I grew up with…" he trailed off, feeling ashamed of himself for even saying anything. He watched her stare at him and could practically hear the gears in her brain turning as she thought of what to say.
"Here's the thing," she said. "People grow and change in life, you have to grow and change with them or you'll lose them." She walked back towards him. "Yes, he's changed but so have you. Are you the same Bucky he knew back then? No, and you shouldn't try to be either because that's not you anymore. You've been through some shit, war, torture-"
"Brainwashing," he interrupted her with a grin. Grabbing his towel and wiping down his face.
"Brainwashing," she nodded. "And you can't just pretend that stuff didn't happen. Will Steve ever understand what it's like to be unmade? No, but that doesn't mean he's not going to try. Just because you don't know him like you used to doesn't mean you can't know him just as intimately as before. It's okay to miss what you had, because you had something most people only dream about. The thing is Bucky, you still have it and while it may be a little different now, it's the same in the in one fundamental aspect."
"What's that?" he asked tossing his towel on the bench and grabbing a water bottle, he took a sip from it.
"Love, doofus." She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You both still love each other. So what does it matter if he's taller or whatever? Work on what you have, not what you had. If you don't know him anymore, take the time to get to know him again."
"Wow," he said looking at her in awe. Whatever he had expected when he first spoke, it certainly wasn't this. There was clearly something more to Darcy Lewis then met the eye.
"One more thing and I may be going a little too far here but I get the feeling you need to hear it," she said glancing around the gym like she was making sure it was all clear. "You're pretty great." She smiled at him. "Listen… I didn't know the old Bucky. I hear he was pretty great but kind of a shmuck - though, great all the same. The thing is, I kind of know this Bucky now, a little, and I like him. He's great. You shouldn't mourn the loss of your old self because, like I said before everyone changes. So embrace who you are now, because you're awesome. Okay?" Reaching out she shoved him in the shoulder and began to back away. "Anyway, I gotta go." She pointed to the door. "Good chat." And with that she left him standing there, dumbstruck and unsure of what to say or do. He had definitely not expected that but he got it.
What was she doing? Oh God, had she just said all that to Bucky Barnes? What was wrong with her? He hadn't asked for a lecture. He had simply said he didn't know his boyfriend like he used too and she had to go and give him a sermon. What was her life? And for that matter what was she doing with her life? Why was she even in Avenger's tower? This couldn't be a viable career option, could it? How long could she keep this up? Pretending to be a lab monkey and taking care of three fully grown adults.
Her heart clenched when she thought about it and the air left her lungs; she was frozen. What was she doing with her life? Nothing. She had a job that didn't matter and an unfinished degree that she couldn't do anything with. Could she go back to school? But she had been out of it for so long… and she didn't have the money for university again, she was still paying off loans from the first time. She had the feeling she would be paying them off until she was fifty. Not to mention, what if she failed, what if she went to school again got her degree and then couldn't get a job in her field and ended up working in retail? The thought of that paralyzed her. She would have failed. Who was she kidding, she had failed already. She was a failure and she had no reason to live. No reason to keep breathing.
Jabbing the pen she was holding into her hand she pushed so hard it punctured the skin.
"Shit," she swore as blood began to pool in the middle of her hand. It hurt, it hurt badly but she continued to push and make herself bleed more. If she concentrated on this pain she wouldn't think about how much of a failure she was and how much she had embarrassed herself earlier.
After cleaning herself up and wrapping her hand in a bandage, Darcy decided she needed some food. She was sad and she wanted junk food. So it was off to the kitchen with her. She just hoped she didn't encounter Bucky. She didn't think she could handle that so soon after embarrassing herself as she had.
"Hey, Doll." Luck was not on her side. She sighed.
"Barnes, Cap'n," she said, giving them a mock salute.
"Ma'am," Steve greeted her, his heart-melting smile in place. She shook herself. She needed to get a hold of herself, these boys were taken. Still, that didn't stop them from being dreamy.
"We had an enlightening conversation earlier." Bucky nodded at her.
"We did," she agreed, wondering where he was going with this and if he was going to embarrass her more.
"I just wanted to say, you're kind of smart," he said with a smirk.
"Kind of?"
"Well, I don't want you getting all full of yourself now, so yeah, kind of," he affirmed.
"Thanks, I think?" Darcy said, scratching the back of her head. Maybe she hadn't embarrassed herself as badly as she thought she had. Or maybe he was making fun of her.
"That's as close as he comes to thank you," Steve interjected, looking confused. "Though I don't know why you are thanking her…?"
"That's top secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you," said Darcy, making a gun with her hand and shooting at Steve with a wink.
"What happened to your hand?" Steve asked, his smile fading as he grabbed her hand.
"Oh… I stabbed myself with a pen."
"You stabbed yourself with a pen," he clarified.
"Yup."
"Only you, Doll, only you," said Bucky, taking her hand and pulling the bandage back to inspect her wound. "Good job."
"Thanks," she shrugged, taking her hand back and re-wrapping it. If they only knew why she had done it, she thought to herself. Let them think of it as a joke. Clumsy Darcy. No one need to know different.
A.N: I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry.
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