Set within The Falcon and The Winter Soldier universe. Between the episodes 'New World Order' and 'Star Spangled Man'. All errors are my own and are unintentional. Would love to hear your thoughts.
Doctor's Orders
His therapist told him that he needed to make friends.
Bucky Barnes quietly sighs as he enters the bar, ignoring how a guy beside the door looks him up and down as he does. They make eye contact for a brief second and he's not exactly sure why but the other guy takes a subtle step to the right to give him more room.
On the way here he's spent the entire ten minute walk having an internal battle with himself. Why it's not a good idea to be out, how he hates excess noise, too many people, too many loud noisy people and then factor alcohol into the mix?
It's just trouble waiting to happen.
But he's tired of his own company so maybe Dr Raynor has a point. He does need to get out and experience a little of what life has to offer post Blip. Judging by the amount of people crowding around him, he's not the only one with the same idea. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts, falling down that endless rabbit hole of self loathing, self disgust and every other self negative trope he can think of. He doesn't think he can handle another spiralling episode right now.
The bar is heaving. It's a popular spot, a stopping off point, somewhere to meet up with friends for a couple of drinks before moving onto the next location. The loud music washes over him as he cautiously moves his way around the other barhoppers careful not to make deliberate eye contact with any of them. He spies an empty stool at the bar and heads towards it. As he slides onto it, a bartender notices him. In another couple of minutes a bottle of beer appears in front of him. He nods his thanks and picks it up and takes a drink.
He's not in the mood to move along and hit another bar. He orders beer after beer and is content to just sit and drink them. He can't get drunk, a side effect of the bastardised version of the super soldier serum that's in his blood courtesy of Zola and his fellow butchers of HYDRA. He often wishes that he could because then maybe he'd be able to get some goddamn sleep. He feels his phone buzz in his jacket pocket and ignores it. Probably Sam. Or possibly Leah. The thought of it being her makes him check but no, it's Sam. Checking in. Why, he has no idea. He keeps doing that, dropping a text, asking how he is. It's irritating and he wishes he'd quit. Once again he remembers what Raynor said about nurturing friendships and he sighs, closes the phone and pushes it back in his jacket pocket. He'll text him back tomorrow.
Maybe.
It's late when he finally decides that he's had enough of making friends even though technically he hasn't made any actual friends. Instead he sat on his stool with his beer, watching the other patrons in the bar. He observed how they all interacted with each other, how they hung out together in their little groups talking, laughing and smiling and flirting without a care in the world it would seem. Some of the flirting has been aimed in his direction. He recognises the smiles, the subtle changes in body language because once upon a time that used to be him, turning on the apparently infamous Barnes charm. He was never short of company, always had a pretty girl on his arm for a date at the movies or to a jazz club where they'd dance until late into the night. The look of deep suspicion on his date du jour's father's face when he escorted his daughter home right on time with barely a hair out of place, lipstick immaculate knowing that five minutes earlier it'd been a much different story. Now if a pretty girl as much as smiles at him, he feels everything inside of him begin to shrink and withdraw.
He's not exactly prime boyfriend material. Or prime anything kind of material. Former assassin, granted a pardon after the Blip, issued with a strict set of guidelines that he has to follow which includes weekly court ordered sessions with the sharply observant and equally acerbic Doctor Raynor. Yep he's a real catch alright. So he just smiles fleetingly, shyly back at them and gives them no inclination that he's interested even though he could be and he's been left alone.
Not that there hasn't been any encounters at all since he got back. Usually one night stands that were a means to an end, a craving for a quick physical connection somewhere private and dark. An itch that needs to be scratched. Mutually beneficial. Not so much now but back in the earlier days when the need was much stronger, more frantic, when he needed the contact, the physical act of release. It suited a purpose at the time.
He emerges into the late night and looks up at the night sky. It's times like these that he misses Wakanda. In Wakanda the silence was a balm. There were plenty of nights where he'd lie on the grass outside of his hut and just stare up at that big ink dark night sky, at the billions of pin points of light scattered across it. The only sounds keeping him company being the quiet bleating from the animals in the enclosures belonging to his closest neighbours. He misses the peace and quiet of that place. Now while he can see the night sky, that's just about all he can see, thanks to light pollution, he can't make out any stars.
He pushes his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and hunches his shoulders against the late night chill and begins to head on back to his apartment. Another night of staring at the four walls beckons.
There's a small group of people in front of him. Two guys and a girl. Bucky glances at them and realises that he recognises one of them. The girl. She was in the bar. She'd caught his attention because of her smile. She had a real pretty smile that made her eyes sparkle. He'd observed her somewhat surreptitiously as she'd sat at the opposite end of the bar with two girlfriends and a glass of wine. Confident. Beautiful. Just out with her friends. She'd looked across at him a couple of times, offered a little smile one of those times which he'd returned and then concentrated on drinking his beer. Then the bar filled up and he lost sight of her.
He can see her now with those two guys and she's a little unsteady on her feet. She's being supported by both men, flanking her at either side, keeping a firm grip on her and guiding her towards the kerb where a SUV type of vehicle waits. She doesn't seem all that eager to go. She seems to be digging those high heels into the sidewalk and the fact that the men seem to be ignoring her sets off alarm bells inside of his head. Then he sees something tumble to the ground. It's her purse and none of them seem to have noticed such is the concentrated attempt to get her into the SUV. Bucky scoops it up in one hand and heads towards them.
"Hey, you dropped this."
Both men stop and as a trio they turn to look at him.
"Oh..thanks…" one of the guys, a tall skinny blond, replies, holding out his other hand to take it. He's still holding on to the girl. Bucky ignores him and he looks more closely at her instead. She's pale, her eyes look like they're struggling to focus. She's woozy. Not quite out of it but compliant.
Those alarm bells get louder.
"Are you okay, miss?" he enquires, moving closer to her.
"She's fine," blond skinny guy answers, smiling, still holding out a hand for the purse. Bucky looks at him.
"Was I talking to you?" he replies. Skinny blond guy's eyes widen marginally, the smile disappearing. Bucky looks back at the girl.
"Are you okay?" He keeps his voice soft and she looks at him and he sees the tears that rim her eyes.
Shit.
Bucky takes a breath and he looks back at skinny blond guy. "I don't think she is okay, do you?"
"You need to mind your own fucking business, that's what you need to do," he answers as he begins to turn away and Bucky feels the irritation flare inside of him. He reaches across and takes hold of his upper arm with his left hand.
"How about you make me?" Bucky challenges, his voice still soft. He then looks at his companion. He's bigger than his friend. Taller. Stronger. The muscle. "I really wouldn't if I were you," he warns in a low voice when he sees how he reaches for his arm. He tightens his grip very slightly, the cybernetics fizzing a little in warning.
"Hey buddy," the Muscle replies and out of the corner of his eye Bucky sees a flash of silver and immediately he lifts his right arm, elbow out and slams it into his face. He hears the knife clatter to the ground as the Muscle staggers back a couple of steps, blood pouring out of his nose and down his face.
"I'm not your buddy," he answers and turns back to skinny blond guy.
"I'd advise you to let go of her," he tells him. "Otherwise things are gonna get a lot more difficult for you."
"Do you know who I am?"
"Do I look like I care? Let go of her." His voice is level, eyes ice cold.
Blond skinny guy stares at Bucky some more. "Look man, she's my girlfriend, she's had a little too much to drink so I'm going to take her home, happy now?" he retorts belligerently.
"I don't feel…so good…" the girl mumbles. Bucky glances at her.
"I saw her in the bar with her girlfriends, I sure as hell didn't see you or your pal here so I'm only going to say this one more time. You need to let go of her. She doesn't want to go with you. There's more than one cop car in the area and I'm sure they'd love to know why this girl is in this condition because I'm pretty damn sure she's not drunk."
He waits, not breaking eye contact with skinny blond guy.
"She's my girlfriend for God's sake!"
"How about I ask her?" He looks back at the girl and then slips his arm around her waist as her knees begin to buckle and she starts to crumple.
"Fine!" Skinny blond guy hisses and pushes her further into his arms and Bucky quickly wraps his other arm around her to stop her from falling. By the time he's done that, both men have made their escape in the SUV and it's heading down the street.
"Damn," he whispers. He looks down at the girl he's holding. When he thought about a girl falling for him, this isn't exactly what he had in mind.
"Hey. You okay?" he asks as he helps her to straighten up. She blinks at him for a moment before she goes stiff in his arms "I'm not gonna hurt you.."
She doesn't speak for a minute as she takes in her surroundings.
"Where'd he go?"
"If you're talking about the blond skinny asshole then he's gone." He scans her face. She's pale, the skin under her eyes sooty from mascara or kohl or whatever it is it's called. "Do you know him?"
A slow nod of the head. "My ex."
"A recent ex?" Another slow nod and she then clutches at her head as she sways again.
"I feel strange," she mumbles.
"C'mon, over here, sit down for a minute," he tells her and still holding her up, he leads her across the sidewalk to a flight of stone steps leading up to a building of some description and he helps her to sit down. He keeps a careful eye on her as she lowers her head in her hands. He then carefully places her purse on the step beside her and takes a step away.
"Do you need medical assistance? Is there anyone I can call?" He goes to reach for his cell phone but she lifts her head and looks at him. She slowly shakes her head.
"You sure? because you don't look too good."
"I'll be okay…" her voice fades away and Bucky gets the impression she was about to say something more. She lowers her head once again. He regards her for a minute more as he contemplates what to do next.
"What's your name?" he asks.
Another look his way. A frown accompanying it.
"Why do you want to know?"
Bucky barely refrains from rolling his eyes.
"Because my mom taught me that it was polite to ask. I'm James."
"Juniper. My mom was a bit of a hippie. I answer to Junie." She fixes her attention more firmly on his face. "I know you, don't I?"
"I don't know, do you?" He's not going to tell her he's seen her at the bar he's just left.
"I do, I just don't remember where from, but I will. Damn I feel weird."
"How much have you had to drink tonight?" he asks.
"Not enough to feel like this." She frowns. "Do you think he roofied me?"
"Do I think what now?"
"That he put something in my drink. It's the only…explanation."
"I don't know. Maybe. I mean you know your limits. Did you finish your drink?" Because he's thinking he may have to take her to the emergency room after all. Thankfully she shakes her head.
"Just a couple of sips. He bought it for me. He wouldn't go away, just kept trying to persuade me to leave with him. Eventually I just got up and walked away, started to feel weird a little after once I got outside."
Bucky sits down on the step below hers and he angles his body to look at her.
"Sounds like he was hoping you'd finish your drink." He doesn't elaborate and has a feeling he doesn't need to. She regards him. "You should call the cops and report him."
"And have them do what? He'll deny it."
"I'll be your witness."
Junie just shakes her head. "I'm just hoping he'll get the message now."
"And maybe he won't. What's his name anyway?"
"Why, so you can find him and kick his ass?"
Bucky just shrugs slowly in response and Junie straightens up a little as she regards him.
"You would too, wouldn't you?"
"Well…it wasn't very gentlemanly what he did and he needs to be taught some manners."
"He's never been told no in his entire life. Spoiled rich boy, you know the type."
He has an idea.
"So. Name?"
Junie sighs. "His name is Malcolm and that's all I'm going to tell you. I appreciate the chivalry but you really don't have to."
"Well Malcolm is an asshole and you should really talk to the cops, file a report or something. He needs to understand that no means no and that there are consequences to bad behaviour."
"You sound like my dad," she murmurs.
Bucky huffs out a sigh "Been getting that a lot recently," he mutters under his breath.
"You know, you don't have to stick around babysitting me, I can find my own way home."
"Oh I'm not leaving you by yourself. Call me old fashioned but I'd rather make sure you're okay first. You think you can walk?"
"I dunno. Maybe"
Bucky gets to his feet and holds out a hand "Need some help?"
She looks up at him and then nods, putting her hand in his. "Thank you."
He helps her to her feet, steadying her when she sways.
"You okay? You hurt anywhere?" he asks.
"Just my pride," she mutters and he bites back a soft smile.
"Been there, done that."
"With that face I sincerely doubt it." His eyes widen slightly at her comeback.
"Well aren't you the sassy one?" he gently chides as they begin to walk. He keeps it slow as she's still walking a little like a new born giraffe.
"You okay?"
"Just a little dizzy," she mutters.
"There's a late night diner right around the corner. Why don't we call in for a cup of coffee and you can…feel better…you could call a friend to come and pick you up or I could walk you back to where you live, if you want me to?" Junie regards him with a modicum of suspicion. He lifts both hands, palms outward. "Or not, I could just call you a cab instead"
"No…it's okay. A cup of coffee would be nice. What did you say your name was?"
"James. Bucky."
"Which do you prefer?" she asks as they continue to walk along the sidewalk. She's still unsteady so he holds out an arm which she takes with a half smile.
"Either."
"Bucky? That's your name?"
"Hey, don't knock it Juniper. It's actually my middle name. Buchanan. It's a childhood nickname that's stuck. Only my friends get to call me Bucky."
"Can I call you that?"
"If you want."
"But you're James. Anyone call you Jim or Jimmy?"
"Not if they want to live," he retorts and despite everything, she snorts a little.
The diner looms. At this time of night it should be quiet. Bucky keeps a watchful eye on Junie as they make their way towards it. She's lapsed into silence, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.
There are only a couple of customers inside as Bucky pushes the door open. The light is bright. No shadows here. Bucky has been here more than a few times and he likes it specifically because there are no shadows.
"Bucky?"
He watches the middle aged man emerge from behind the counter, his dark brown eyes wide with concern. "What's going on, my friend?"
Bucky gives him a single look as he helps Junie to a table beside the window.
"Alphonse, could we get two black coffees? My friend Junie's a little under the weather."
"Sure, coming right up. Is she okay? She don't look so good."
"Got her out of a scary situation that's all."
"Want me to call the cops?"
Bucky shakes his head rapidly. "I already asked. She just wants some coffee."
"No problem, it won't be long." Bucky watches how he bustles away before he lowers himself down onto the seat opposite her. She still looks awfully pale.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to the emergency room?" The place gives him the heebie-jeebies but he'd put up with it for a little while if it means making sure she's safe.
He watches how she closes her eyes for a moment before taking a slow deep breath.
"I'm sure. Thank you," she answers quietly.
"If you change your mind…"
"I won't."
Alphonse returns with two white mugs filled to the brim with black coffee just as he'd requested. There's already sugar and creamer in tiny little plastic bucket like containers on the table.
"You need anything else, just holler," he tells them and heads away. Bucky watches him for a second or two.
"He knows you."
"Yeah. I'm in here a few times, plus he's my landlord. I live upstairs." He sees the surprise in her eyes at that revelation.
"Alone?"
"Yeah."
It's a basic place, living room and kitchenette, small bathroom, equally small bedroom. It's enough for him, he doesn't have much. He gently nudges the cup closer to her.
"Drink your coffee. Do you think you could eat something? Alphonse does the best fries in Brooklyn, hands down."
Junie slowly picks up her cup and takes a slow experimental sip and then nods. Bucky looks to the counter and sees Alphonse watching them and lets him know to bring them some of the promised fries.
While they wait for the food to arrive, Bucky watches Junie unzip her purse and look inside. She takes out a small compact and hears her whispered exclamation at her appearance and she spends a few minutes tidying herself up.
"I look ghastly," she sighs, shoving the compact back into her purse. She's also taken out her cell phone and checked it. "Damn, the battery's dead. I can't even call anyone."
Bucky pulls his phone out of his pocket. "Use mine." He sees how she looks at him. He pushes it across the table and picks up his cup and drinks his coffee, looking out of the window as she makes a call, her voice low, quiet.
"Thanks." He looks back at her and sees her push his phone back across the table. He retrieves it and pockets it. It's then Alphonse returns carrying two plates piled high with golden fries which he places in front of them along with some tomato ketchup and mayonnaise. Without another word, Alphonse disappears again but Bucky knows that he's concerned about Junie. He peels off the glove on his right hand.
"My friend Tess said she'll come by to pick me up. She'll be about half an hour."
"Okay. That'll give you some time to finish your coffee and eat your fries before they get cold."
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asks. He lifts his head and looks at her as he pops a fry into his mouth. He chews for a couple of seconds.
"Why wouldn't I be nice to you?"
"Well you don't even know me."
"We can change that here and now if you want. You know my name and I know yours. You from Brooklyn?" He picks up another fry and dunks it into the mayo.
"Yeah. You?"
Bucky nods. "What do you do for a living?" he asks. He watches how she picks up one of her own fries and dips it into the ketchup, staring at it for a long moment before deciding to take a bite. She makes eye contact with him.
"You're right, these fries are amazing."
"Told ya," His eyes light up but he doesn't quite smile.
"I work in a small store that sells pre owned, pre loved books. Goes by the name of Second Hand Prose. You heard of it?"
Bucky slowly shakes his head as he dips a fry in mayonnaise and bites into it. "Sorry I haven't. Truth is, while I'm from here, I haven't been back in a….long while."
"How long?"
"Years." Decades even.
"The Blip?"
He just nods. Amongst other things.
"And before that?"
Bucky regards her as he contemplates how to answer that one. Brainwashed assassin? No, he can't imagine that one going over very well.
"I was in the military for a while," he murmurs and picks up another fry.
"Is that why you wear the glove on your left hand?"
Bucky looks at it for a moment. "Yeah," he answers and leaves it at that.
"So what do you do now?"
Try to live in a century I can barely remember. Memories restored but scattered like a deck of cards.
Bucky shrugs. "This and that." Well that doesn't sound shady at all. "I help Alphonse out once in a while." Amongst others. "Fix up the upstairs apartment, help out down here sometimes. That kinda thing."
"You like it?"
"No one's making me do it if that's what you mean."
The apartment is cheap, he's live in security for downstairs. Alphonse doesn't ask too many questions and he feeds him once in a while and that suits him perfectly. Dr Raynor pointed out at a recent therapy session that he had less than ten contact numbers on his phone. Alphonse is one of them. It's how he prefers it, it's less complicated that way.
Bucky turns his head when he sees a car pull up outside and three doors open. Three women. He looks back at Junie as they head towards the diner, yanking the door open and flooding inside.
"I think your ride got here," he tells her and sees her blink of surprise. Bucky watches the three women approach them. Doesn't miss the looks of suspicion that cross their faces when they see him. Junie looks over her shoulder and when she sees them, she begins to get to her feet, the relief clear on her face. One of the women, Bucky guesses she must be Tess, envelops her in a hug and holds her for a moment or two.
"Are you okay?" Her voice is soft, concerned. Junie nods. She then looks back at Bucky.
"Thanks to Bucky."
He watches how they all look at him, all with varying degrees of interest.
"Glad I could help," he murmurs all of a sudden feeling like a specimen underneath a microscope.
"I need to use the bathroom," Junie then mumbles.
"It's through those doors. Go right on through, bathroom is to your right," Bucky instructs, pointing at the door at the back of the diner.
"Carrie, you go with her," the woman Bucky guesses is Tess tells the girl, carefully passing her to her but not breaking eye contact with Bucky as she does so. Bucky senses a third degree happening in his imminent future. Obediently Carrie does so and Bucky watches her sit in Junie's recently vacated chair and continue her examination of him. The other girl sits down beside her.
"What kind of name is Bucky?" she demands. Bucky rolls his eyes.
"Mine if you're going to get personal."
Tess huffs out a sigh and sits back a little in her chair.
"What happened tonight?"
"Junie thinks her asshole ex tried to put something in her drink. He and a buddy of his tried to drag her into a SUV but didn't succeed."
"You made sure he didn't succeed."
Bucky slowly shrugs.
"How did you know there was something wrong?"
"I've seen it before."
"You've seen it before? What are you, a cop or something?"
"Or something." He leaves it at that. Then he gives a sigh and sits up a little straighter in his seat. "Listen, she can't go back home tonight. I wouldn't put it past the asshole to show up there and try again. Malcolm someone?" He looks to the other girl who's watching the exchange with interest.
"Ford. Asshole ex is Malcolm Ford. She dumped him a couple of weeks ago after finally seeing him for the idiot we all knew he was. He didn't get the memo."
"You need to talk her into making a police report. She said he's a rich kid?" They nod in confirmation. "He has to understand that this type of behaviour isn't acceptable under any circumstances. I offered to kick his ass on her behalf but she turned me down."
This earns the faintest smile from Tess. "I'd hold your jacket while you did. I'll try to talk to her again. She'll be staying with me for a couple of days. I'll make sure she's safe."
"You've known her a while?"
"Since high school. You mess with her, you mess with me, you understand?"
"Completely." Bucky turns his head when he sees Junie and Carrie return. He gets to his feet as Tess and the other girl do and watches how they all swarm protectively around her. Junie looks at Bucky.
"Thank you for tonight. You didn't have to."
"You're welcome. And yeah I did," he replies. He watches the four women leave the diner and get into the car. Once inside, Junie turns her head and she looks at him. Her smile is faint and she lifts a hand to wave. Bucky copies and watches the car pull away and disappear from view.
Malcolm Ford.
Bucky ruminates on the name.
He recognises it.
Blond asshole is a little too young to be the owner of the Malcolm Ford listed in his notebook. His Malcolm Ford is another HYDRA pawn, squirrelled away in Congress somewhere to be called upon when needed with a generous pay off as a reward. He wonders if the blond asshole is a junior or a number three. He'll need to look into it further but it's an interesting coincidence all the same. It would seem that the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
"Everything okay?"
Bucky almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of Alphonse's voice behind him. He turns his head and he looks at him.
"I'm going to invest in a bell to go round your damn neck. Everything's fine. She's with her friends now, they'll take care of her. You need a hand with anything?"
"No. You're fine, it's almost closing time anyway."
"How about I hang around til you lock up?" he suggests and smiles faintly at his look of mock irritation.
A few days later:
He climbs the stairs to his apartment, every step feeling like it weighs a hundred pounds. The lack of any decent sleep is catching up on him. He's forgotten the last time he's got more than three straight hours. He pauses when he sees the paper sack in front of his door. Sees the name printed on the side; Second Hand Prose. He frowns for a second before approaching it and picking it up.
He peeks inside. There are two or three books in there. He reaches in and lifts out the top book. He almost smiles. The Hobbit. It's been a long time since he read this one. He peeks in at the others, a couple he hasn't heard of, a bit of this and that. There's a card.
"A proper thank you for saving my bacon. Feel free to call by sometime. I owe you a coffee or two. Junie."
He drops it back in and cradles the sack in one hand as he pulls his keys out of his jacket pocket with the other and lets himself into his apartment.
Another day. A table. A hot cup of coffee. A pencil and a crossword puzzle. Bucky frowns as he stares at it. Anything to quieten the voices whispering in his head. Raynor had suggested word puzzles, crosswords as a way to quieten the whispering, give him something else to focus on. He's struggling as always but he's not going to give up. Not yet anyway.
"I remember where it was I saw you."
Bucky looks up at the voice and stares blankly at the girl standing by his table until his brain kicks in and his eyes widen with recognition.
"Junie! Hi." He gets to his feet.
She smiles at him. A bright almost happy smile.
"Well you look a damn sight better than the last time I saw you. It's good to see you." He indicates the chair opposite him and watches her drop into it and place her bag down by her feet. She's wearing a navy pant suit with a white shirt, no make-up smeared across her face, her hair neat and tidy. She looks nothing like the girl he'd helped out a week or so ago. Slowly he retakes his seat.
"It's good to see you too Bucky. You were at the bar. That's where I saw you. I knew that I had. I told you I'd remember."
"Yeah. I saw you too with your girlfriends." He regards her with a faint smile on his face. "And thank you for the books. You didn't have to, it was very kind of you."
"Did you like what I chose? I wasn't sure. I mean, I know The Hobbit is an old one but it's a favourite…"
"I know. It's one of mine. I read it back…" He almost says 'when it was released' which he did but she doesn't need to know that "A long time ago."
"Have you read The Lord of The Rings?"
Bucky shakes his head.
"The movies are terrific though."
Bucky's eyes widen slightly at this. "There are movies?"
Junie nods. "They were huge blockbusters though they're over twenty years old now. You haven't seen them? I thought everyone had."
"No, not everyone…" he murmurs faintly.
Junie regards him. "I had a visit from a police detective last week. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"
"Why would I know anything about that?"
"Since she wanted to talk to me about one Malcolm Ford." His name hangs heavily in the air between them.
"And?"
"Well, given how we met and all of that…"
"Hey, you said you weren't going to get the cops involved and I respected that. I offered to go find him and kick his ass for you but you said not to that too, so I didn't."
"Really? You didn't call the cops?"
"Sweetheart, I don't even know your second name. I don't know where you live."
"Tess could've said something."
"She didn't. Except to agree with me saying he's an asshole. What happened?"
"Someone filed a complaint against him. Actually more than one someone. All with similar stories to mine according to the detective. Harassment, abusive behaviour and that's just for starters."
"Was he ever abusive to you?"
"He didn't hit me if that's what you're asking."
"Abuse isn't always physical."
"He could be pushy, bossy, want his own way and get annoyed if he didn't. We didn't date all that long, barely a couple of months. I didn't like how entitled he behaved so I broke up with him. He wouldn't accept it."
"Until I came along."
Junie regards him and smiles softly. "Til you came along. You probably saved my life."
Bucky shakes his head, looking away. "I wouldn't go that far."
"I would."
He makes eye contact with her to see her almost earnest expression.
"So what happens now?"
"He's out on bail and he's staying out of my way which I have no complaints with."
"Good." Bucky's voice is soft. Junie smiles.
"You helped me back then. Anybody else would've just minded their own business but you didn't. Most of that night fades in and out for me. It was the weirdest feeling, it was like I was in a really vivid dream. I didn't say or do anything that made you uncomfortable, did I?"
Bucky shakes his head. "No. No you didn't." He sees the look of relief on her face.
"Thank God." She then looks around the interior of the diner. It's busier today.
"I remember eating French fries here and they were amazing." She smiles back at him.
"They still are if you've got time to eat?"
"I don't, unfortunately. This is just a flying visit." Another smile. "You should call by the book store some time."
Bucky smiles at her. "Maybe I will."
Her smile becomes brighter at that. "And maybe we could grab lunch or dinner here sometime? If you're interested that is?"
"That would be good. Let me give you my number."
He pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and flips it open.
"James. Why don't you come on in?"
He huffs out a sigh and gets to his feet. He should be used to this. Sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, staring sightlessly at the white painted walls, studiously ignoring the variety of posters tacked up all over them. Wishing he was absolutely anywhere but here.
He lowers himself down onto the regulation grey square couch and his eyes slide around the medium sized room. Windows frame the wall to the left of him, the view partially hidden by vertical blinds but he knows what's out there; more anonymous buildings looking out onto the same rectangular court yard that has been repurposed with a few trees and plants. Behind him are more trees, a whole wall of them; birch trees to be exact. They're supposed to promote an air of calm and tranquillity. He clasps his hands together, shoulders a little hunched. Dr Raynor sits across from him as she always does in her more comfortable black leather chair, her ever present notebook and pen on a small table to her right, a plain white coffee mug accompanying it. He feels her shrewd gaze examine him. For what, he's not entirely sure. A moment or two of silence ticks by.
"So James. How has your week been?" she enquires.
Another moment stretches by. Bucky is staring into space, looking to anyone watching him that he's lost in his memories again. Then he smiles very very softly.
"It's been good Doc," he replies, his voice soft in the quiet. He makes brief eye contact.
"I made a friend."