The universe just couldn't let her stay happy.
They had went to Tony and Pepper's wedding and had an amazing time. Bucky wore a suit, she wore a long green gown, they made a gorgeous couple and things were awesome. The wedding was absolutely beautiful, lakeside and natural and absolutely breathtaking. She wasn't embarrassed to admit she'd shed her fair share of tears. Steve had cried almost as much as her, which she found comforting. She found it surprising that Peter wasn't the best man, it was Happy Hogan, but she wasn't surprised to see that Natasha was maid of honor. Pepper had known the woman for years, and the two made an unlikely pair that shone on that day.
The after party ended up not being a disaster. Hosted at Stark Towers, celebrities were a dime a dozen inside. Superheroes, politicians, movie stars, influential speakers, models, and the like all mingled and made small talk over hors d'oeuvres. Donatella had to force a smile to speak to many of them, not at all comfortable with them. But Bucky stayed steady at her side, a stoic guard and her comfortable rock. When she tensed up too much at particularly menacing questions, he'd carefully excuse them and lead them to the bar, or the back corner, or out onto the balcony where she could relax again. People were very accusing, always nitpicking to find something wrong with her or her methods. So far nobody found a crack in her armor, but it would only be a matter of time before someone important took issue with her and her name would be slandered over ever cheap magazine in the nation.
"Doctor Belucci, I presume?" a friendlier face had approached her while Bucky ran to the bathroom, and she tried not to let her tiredness show on her expression.
"Ah, yes, that would be me." her voice sounded pathetically weak to her ears, and she held back a wince. Maybe it was nearing the time to call it a night, all the free-flowing champagne in the world couldn't fix this drained feeling.
"I work in the New York school district. Have you ever considered..." blah blah blah, another person asking her to come and teach, or come and work with them, or come to some sort of party. She'd even been invited to the next year's Met Gala by Anna Wintour herself over crab cakes by the water fountain. It was absolute insanity, and of course she'd accepted, but she wasn't even sure where she fit in with these people. She wasn't an Avenger, though they were perfectly pleasant and friendly towards her. She wasn't a celebrity, either, her biggest break was the cover of Women's Health a few months previous. Donatella certainly wasn't a politician, she had no idea what to talk about and wasn't comfortable discussing important issues in the nation that she barely knew about. And seeing all these beautiful people in one room, well, it really knocked her down a peg. She swore if she saw one more pair of glamorous legs in a sparkly minidress she would scream.
Luckily for her, Tony and Pepper jetted off through the night sky to begin their weeklong honeymoon on some obscure private island that of course was owned and maintained by Stark industries. Lucky bastards. Bucky didn't hesitate to swoop her up after they left, helping her say her goodbyes. She gave a few stern words to Peter who was still at the party after midnight, warning him to get home and get some sleep. The kid agreed sheepishly and the couple moved around to the scattered friends in the room, Steve and Thor showing no signs of stopping a heated discussion on the lost hammer Mjolnir, Natasha and Clint lurking in the shadows, Sam, Wanda, and Vision all dancing the night away, and a few more mixed into various groups of strangers.
Donatella felt boneless and exhausted by the time they'd dragged themselves home, her shoes getting kicked off right inside the entryway and her dress falling to the floor in the middle of the kitchen. She stumbled around in a plain black bra and matching panties, not feeling at all sexual after stuffing her face with mini snacks and drinking enough bubbly alcohol to help her bloat up like a balloon. Bucky seemed to share the same sentiment, kicking off his pants and pulling his shirt off without unbuttoning it before crawling into their bed. She stifled a laugh, loving how cute he looked with one cheek to the pillow, smooshing his face up into a half smile.
"G'night. Love you." he mumbled, closing his eyes and pressing a chaste kiss to her nose, his arm wrapping around her to loosely pull her into his chest. She snuggled into him with a happy sigh.
"Night Buck, love you too." she smiled back, letting her eyelids droop and listening to his breathing slow. She was lulled into a sense of peace and security, something wonderful and secret hanging between the two of them. The small space between them was warm and inviting, and she swore she could feel happiness emanating from somewhere deep within him. She slept peacefully, knowing that she was loved and happy.
It didn't last through the next day.
The morning started off painstakingly normal. Don and Bucky made breakfast, made plans, sent some deposits out for their own wedding, and it was amazingly quiet. No emergencies from the Avengers, no alien invasions, no threat of the end of the world, and no crazy family members trying to kill them. She loved their normal days. She felt relaxed and happy, and she wished that things would stay the same forever. She had a loving family, a handsome fiance, great friends, and a wonderful career. Things couldn't possibly get better, unless world peace decided it was going to be a thing.
Around noon, she got a phone call. She answered it, though it was from an unknown number. She wondered if she'd given her personal number to anyone from the night before, but couldn't recall at the time. She was pleasantly surprised by who was on the other end.
"Oh, Mark! Hey, I haven't heard from you in so long." she smiled once she realized it was Janita's son. He had been older than her when she was younger, but more recently as she entered her adult years they talked more and more.
"Hey, Donnie, it's been ages. I'm sorry for calling out of the blue." he apologized, and Bucky glanced at her curiously from his spot on the couch, the newspaper laying flat across his lap. She held a finger up to him, mouthing "Janita's son" to him as an explanation.
"It's not a problem, Mark. How is your wife? And your son, Steven?" she asked, trying to be as pleasant as possible with her mother-figure's actual son.
"Oh, they're… they're fine. Listen, I'm calling you because… well, this is hard to say." his voice cracked through the phone, and she frowned, her stomach sinking.
"What's… what's going on?" she asked. She suddenly didn't feel good about this call. She barely knew Mark, why on earth was he calling? She listened to him speak for a few moments, going more and more numb, her grip tightening on her phone as he continued to explain the situation. Even after he'd hung up, she didn't move, the phone pressed against her ear, her body completely frozen. Was she shaking? She couldn't tell, but her eyesight was getting blurry.
"Donnie?" Bucky was suddenly in front of her, but she couldn't respond. His fingers gently pried hers from her phone, setting it on the coffee table with a quiet clatter. Her bottom lip was wobbling, and he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head up at him, forcing eye contact. "Don, what's going on? Answer me, you're scaring me." he pleaded, and she couldn't help the ugly sob that burst forth from her. She felt hot, fat tears slipping down her cheeks, her face was crumpling up as she started to hyperventilate. She couldn't fucking breathe, holy shit. Bucky's hands were on her shoulders now, giving her soothing words, but she wasn't quite all the way with him. She could see his blurry outline in front of her, sharp edges of his face melting into something unrecognizable. Her chest burned from lack of air, and her head felt way too light. But none of that measured up to the crushing despair that sucked the life out of her, the burning feeling in her throat no match for it. It was all too painful, she felt hollow and brimming with anguish all at once. What would she do? What should she do? Everything was...
"It's Janita!" she let out a gasping sob, finally crumpling to the floor and pressing her face into her knees. Her jeans quickly became soaked with her tears, chafing uncomfortably against her skin, but none of that mattered.
"What happened to Janita, sweetheart? Please, you've gotta tell me what's going on." Bucky pleaded, and an embarrassing squealing sob flew from her. She couldn't control the tears, she couldn't control anything. "Breathe, doll, you need to breathe." he cooed to her, and she tried so hard to listen to what he said but she was hiccuping and choking on air and she had absolutely no idea how to calm down.
"She… sh-she… in her sleep." Don tried to choke out, the words jumbling together in a staccato fashion, her words sharp but her cries in between muffling the vowels. "Aneurysm… she had an aneurysm…" she gasped, finally.
"Is she okay? Do we need to go out there?" he asked, and she could see his eyes rapidly darting over her face, and another keening sob escaped her.
"N-n-n-she's-" she tried to speak again but the words just wouldn't come out, and her breaths were beginning to make her feel lightheaded. "Dead." the word left an acidic taste in her mouth. Her sobs quieted then, as if the reality of the situation finally made it to her brain. The room was hushed, and the tears stopped falling, her breaths evening out until she was no longer shaking and lightheaded. "Janita is dead." she repeated, and the look in Bucky's eyes as he knelt in front of her…
"Oh my god, Donnie…" his voice was barely a whisper, and he sat down fully on the ground then, reaching out and pulling her close. That warmth that she'd felt the night before played at the edges of her heart, but it felt torn out. Janita… her mother was dead. Her real mother. The woman who'd raised her, who'd played dress up with her… She was the one who'd gossiped with her about the boys in her grade, who could tell when her friends were fake before she could. She made her breakfast every morning and her favorite dinners every night. She'd always been there for her, to clean up her messes and just to provide comfort when she needed it.
She remembered bringing home her first boyfriend to introduce to her. He didn't get why it was so important that Janita liked him.
"She's just your housekeeper, babe." the kid had said, and Don remembered that she had gotten extremely angry at him for saying that. Janita wasn't "just" anything. She was everything. In recent years, they'd seen each other less and less, but just because you don't always see someone doesn't mean that you lose your love for them. She loved Janita, more than anything. That boyfriend didn't last long, for the obvious reasons. Janita had been everything to her for almost her entire life. She was the only one she'd loved so deeply, the most important person to her, at least until she met Bucky.
It hurt, so much to think about how she was gone. The wound was too fresh, too new to be able to come to terms with it. She knew in her mind she'd have to pull it together and get home, to help with the funeral arrangements. But for a moment she just let herself take comfort in Bucky's arms around her.
The next day she managed to pack some things up, and she and Bucky drove the short distance to Janita's house, where Mark greeted her with a teary smile and quick hug.
"I'm so sorry…" Donatella shook her head at him, trying to convey her feelings for what he'd lost.
"Hey. None of that. I don't need you to try and show me any sympathy. You're losing just as much as I am." he choked out, pressing his hand into her shoulder. He was much older than her, but she felt a kinship with the man. They'd been raised by the same strong, wonderful, amazing woman, and they both felt they'd have to do her proud, even after she passed.
"I want to pay for all the funeral bills." she wiped her eyes, trying to straighten her spine and not look quite so miserable.
"You don't have to do that." Mark protested, and she gave a sharp shake of her head.
"You know I have to." she pleaded, and he hesitated before nodding. She sighed in relief when he gave in, pulling him into another hug, thankful that he'd let her do at least that. She knew that technically she had no right to be a part of all of this, but Mark was letting her in, and she was so grateful.
Janita wasn't her birth mother, just her legal guardian. She could have been thrown in the foster system, or handed off to some super distant relative, but Janita had fought to keep Donatella in her own home, setting aside so much of her life to bring her up. The woman probably could have retired long before then, but instead she decided to raise Donatella as her own, no matter how much work it had taken. Don was never able to show her foster mother how much that had meant to her. And now she never could.
"You alright?" Bucky murmured in her ear once they entered Janita's house, and she gave a stiff nod, trying not to sniffle.
"I'll be fine." she glanced around at the inside, realizing she hadn't been there in years. Janita had moved out from the main house when Don had gone off to college the first time, buying a small place just ten minutes out. It was quaint, neat, clean and bright, small little pieces of Janita's personality everywhere. The cookie jar, copper pots, the wooden cutting boards, the pasta roller, the forest green couch with the orange knit blanket tossed over the back. All of it brought back so many memories. Don felt her stomach tighten uncomfortably.
"I didn't ask how you're going to be. I want to know if you're okay right now." he sighed, stepping in front of her, his eyes gleaming with concern, his lips parted in anticipation for what she would say. She felt herself swallow, and she tore her eyes from him to glance back around at the small home, a ghost of a smile flitting over her lips.
"I think I'm okay." she replied, looking at a picture hanging on the wall. Donatella's junior prom. Janita had insisted on making her dress, and it was absolutely gorgeous. It was a deep satin plum, with a full skirt and a halter top, small beads adorning the bodice of it and trimming the hem. She stood with her date, a kid she hadn't spoken to since that night, but she remembered it like it was yesterday. Bucky glanced over to what she was looking at, a small smile quirking up the corners of his lips.
"That you?" he stepped over to it, tracing a finger over her face. She had a pretty grin in the picture, and her hair was coiffed in an awful curly bun.
"Yeah, the hair was a disaster, but the dress more than made up for it." she chuckled softly, moving to stand next to him. "Janita made it for me, I got to pick out the fabric with her and everything. God, it took months to get it done, but it was worth every second. I went on my first diet then, I wanted to look good, but she gave me so much crap for it."
"Why?" he asked.
"Because she had to keep taking the dress in! That's what she said, anyways. I think it was more about me thinking that I wasn't skinny enough to be pretty. She got mad when I said that to her, even threatened to not let me go to the prom." she sighed, moving to tangle her fingers with him. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she shot him a grateful smile. "She was always saying that I was perfect the way I was, that I shouldn't try to change for anybody except myself. She was the smartest person I've ever known."
"Don't let Tony hear you say that." Bucky joked, and she scoffed, but a small laugh managed to escape her anyways.
"It's the truth. I always knew that if I listened to what she said, everything would work out for me." she sighed.
"She always knew exactly what to do." Mark's voice floated from behind the pair, and Donatella whirled to face him. He had a sad smile on his face, holding a white envelope. "She left this for you."
"Oh…" Donatella stared down at the paper. This was what she had left of her? What was left of her mother? Her last words? She suddenly felt overwhelmed again. "I'll… read it when I get home." she tucked it safely in her purse. What would it say? Had she realized that she would die soon? Why didn't she ask Don for help?
"She cared about you like you were her own, you know. She was so proud of you." Mark mentioned, glancing at a photo on the wall. It was of Donatella as a child, making a ridiculous pouting face. She had been such a brat at that age.
"I could tell. She always told me that I was her daughter." she gave Mark a weak smile.
"She hung on, for a long time because of you." he said softly. She jolted at that, giving him an incredulous look.
"What do you mean?" she asked, squeezing Bucky's hand.
"She wasn't doing well these past few years. She didn't want to tell you, didn't want to worry you." he revealed. She swallowed, hard. She knew that this would be coming? Why didn't she tell her? She could have spent more time with her, looked into what was wrong with her- "Don't overthink it. She held on because she couldn't stand the thought of leaving you all alone."
"I…" Donatella swallowed again, her mouth suddenly dry. Bucky was stroking his thumb over the back of her hand, doing his best to comfort her without interrupting. "Leaving me alone?"
"No offense, Don, but until recently… you didn't have many people in your life." Mark was blunt, but she could see the empathy shining in his eyes. He cared about what he was saying, and she appreciated it. "She hung onto what she had so that you wouldn't be abandoned again. That was always her biggest fear. To leave you behind."
"She… sh-she…" her bottom lip was wobbling again, and she couldn't stop the fat tears from rolling down her cheeks. Abandoned… again. How many times had Janita woken her up from her nightmares, sobbing about the loss of her parents? The parents who had left her behind, deserted her, a child. Janita had been just as upset and confused as she had been. But Janita took up the mantle of comforter, became her new mommy, gave her reality checks when she was a brat and support when she was afraid. Sure she had followed in her parents' footsteps, but everything she became was because of Janita.
"Mom cared so much. And it hurt her to know that her time was ending soon. But she knew you'd have someone to lean on without her." Mark gave a sad smile. She realized then that Janita was right. The woman had always been right. She was leaning on Bucky, he was keeping her head above water. He comforted her, held her, talked to her. Things had been awful since she'd heard the news, but he carried half her burden. She felt lighter with him. She was dwelling so much on her past with Janita, but she had the opportunity to look towards her future with him. It was still so, so painful. But at least she wasn't alone.
"It's okay, sweetheart." Bucky murmured to her as Mark walked off towards the back room. She gave him a weak smile before clearing her throat. He squeezed her hand before moving towards the kitchen, pulling a glass from the drying rack in the sink and filling it with water. He offered it to her, and she grabbed it with shaking hands. After a small sip she felt her trembling slow.
"Thank you." she whispered, her voice cracking.
"Don't need you getting dehydrated." he joked, pulling a chair out at the table for her. She sat and thanked him again, and he took a seat beside her, gripping her hand again. She gave another weak smile, clearing her throat.
"I'm at a loss for what happens next." she revealed. He nodded at her, but didn't say anything. She was kind of glad he wasn't giving her suggestions or telling her what she should be doing. And then she realized that he'd gone through this before, long before. She'd lost someone, but he'd already lost everything. She felt guilty, and selfish.
"What's wrong?" he asked. He could see right through her. She hadn't even said a word and he realized that her emotions had switched.
"I realized that this whole time, you must have been feeling the same thing I have." she frowned, and he furrowed his eyebrows.
"I didn't know Janita the same way you did. I mean, I knew her, and cared about her, but-"
"That wasn't what I meant." Donatella interrupted him. "You've lost your entire family. You lost everyone you've ever known when you were taken. And we never talked about it."
"Well…" he sighed. "I haven't exactly brought it up for discussion. Haven't really wanted to either." she felt her stomach curl in on itself. She'd plowed right over what he would think on the subject and went straight for trying to make herself feel better. She always did this. She'd just open her mouth without any thought on how he'd react.
"I'm sorry, I…"
"Don't apologize." he shook his head, raking his fingers through his hair. It was longer than before, but not by much. "I just… It's hard to come to terms with. And talking about it means it's actually reality."
"This isn't you reality?" Don swallowed hard.
"This is more like… my favorite dream that I'm scared to wake up from." he gave her a ghost of a smile.
"You don't want to wake up?" she asked. Bucky sighed, running his hand through his hair again.
"I finally have something good. I don't feel like I'm worth all this, but I'm scared if I blink it'll all be gone." he admitted. She bit her lip, her stomach sinking.
"Buck. This is real." she smiled. "And I'm not going anywhere. None of us are."
"Well, I could think of a few people that I wouldn't mind getting rid of." he gave a small grin.
"You're awful." Donatella rolled her eyes with a laugh, but he just shrugged back at her. She felt some of the stress leaching from her, leaving her feeling a little lighter, her heart less heavy. She wasn't stupid, she knew he couldn't fix her pain, her loss was absolutely too much for that. But at least she had something to help her through it.
It would take time. Obviously it wouldn't be something she could get over in a few days. Months, maybe years to come to terms with Janita being gone. Maybe she'd never come to terms with it. Donnie bit her lip again, trying not to let herself cry again. She had shed too many tears already that day, and she had a lot of things to get done. She had to be strong.