Flashlight


Chapter four


With the stress of planning the bachelorette party weighing heavily upon you for the past few weeks, you were exhausted. While everyone else was still dancing, talking and overall having a wonderful time, you took a moment to yourself and ordered water at the bar. With a sigh, you sat down on a barstool, giving your feet a much needed, momentary reprieve from the ache inducing heels you were wearing. They looked amazing, really, but after such a long day, they mostly just hurt.

You couldn't wait for the moment you would arrive home and were able to kick them off, discard them in a dark corner of your room and ignore them for a while. You imagined the moment when the cold from your apartment floor would ease the aching before you could lay down in bed with a pillow underneath your legs to elevate them. You could only hope that it would help enough for the pain to be gone in the morning. Or at the very least to be minimised.

Not too far from you, Natasha was still happily dancing and having a blast. Having reached her alcohol limit hours ago, she no longer felt the pain in her feet. You had to make sure that she too took percussions once she got home.

She was currently dancing with Clint, pushed up against him in a slow dance, despite the fast music that was playing through the speakers. They smiled at each other as they seemed completely unaware that anyone else was even still there, fully captivated by one another. It really was a beautiful sight to behold and the smile on your lips grew wider as you stared a little longer. The love they felt for one another was clear as day in their exchange.

Eventually, you diverted your eyes from the happy couple to look around the place in search of the rest of your friends. A chuckle escaped your lips when you noticed that Sam and Maria had roped Wanda and Steve into some silly drinking contest, Maria cheering victoriously as she won. It never ceased to surprise you that she would still find people willing to go against her. There were very few people as competitive as her and somehow she managed to win just about anything. Not even Sam could keep up, though even when he was on the losing end, he would be the first and the loudest to cheer her on. Once more shown by the high five he gave her as soon as she finished her happy dance.

Wanda seemed a little unsteady on her feet as she stepped back from the table and Steve was quick to catch her arm in his strong grip. Whoever thought a girl her size should compete with the other three should be stoned, you jokingly thought to yourself, knowing full well that nobody could have stopped the girl from trying. Ever the optimist, she was.

As you checked the time on your phone your eyes widened in surprise when you realised that it was only midnight, it felt much later. Probably because you had started drinking early in the afternoon. Not advisable to anyone, really.

Carol and her wife, Val, had said goodbye over an hour ago, explaining that they'd have to get up early in the morning for their baby son. You made sure they got safely into a cab before returning to the party. Right now, you were slightly jealous that they had a good excuse. You really wanted to get rid of these shoes and you wished you had brought flats.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a shimmer of light ricocheting off of metallic and you snapped your head in its direction, hoping it was Bucky. It wasn't, the reflective strip on the wall was playing tricks on you.

You hadn't seen him since your conversation hours ago and you wondered if he was still there. Would he leave without saying another word? He could. He had no obligation towards you. You just hoped he hadn't.

It should not have been so surprising that the reflection had not come from Bucky's arm. He'd been hiding his prosthetic underneath wide sweaters since he got back into town. Undeterred by the warm spring temperatures, he had not shown the arm once. Even during the dinner with his friends, you had only caught a glimpse of it as he finally released the sleeve of his sweater to pick up his utensils. That small glimpse informed you that it was not the same prosthetic that he'd had two years ago.

That first arm had been the colour of Wanda's pale skin, which stood out against Bucky's tan. As Bucky had said it back then, it stood out like a sore thumb. That first arm had made him incredibly self-conscious. The new arm was dark, anthracite of colour. It still didn't seem easier for him to accept the attached limb, though he did move it much easier than he had before.

You remembered his first fitting, three years ago now, a day etched deeply into your brain. A day that broke your heart. He hadn't been ready and you hadn't seen it until it was too late.

Bucky was seated in a comfortable chair, though his body was rigid, stiff, as if he had never been more uncomfortable. Which was probably true. On his forehead was a shimmer of sweat and his eyes shifted around the room in quick movements. His entire being was on high alert.

He was so tense. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder, wishing to help him calm down. It didn't help, though. He shook off your hand, by standing up from the chair and pacing the length of the room in quick angry strides.

His move, a shining example of the distance that had been created between the two of you over the past few months. It had been hard to realise and even harder to change. Bucky had stopped talking to you, couldn't share the burden he was carrying, keeping you from trying to close the gap. The house you shared no longer a haven of happiness and love, instead it was now cold and dreary. You had never known it was possible to miss someone who was laying right beside you, until then.

When the doctor walked into the room with two prototypes that he placed on the table in front of Bucky, his breathing became irregular. Silently he regarded them, his remaining arm pulling at the collar off his shirt. He was panicking.

Stepping forward, you placed a hand on his arm and pulled gently, turning him towards you.

"It's okay, baby, you're safe here," you whispered rubbing his arm with one hand while the other was placed on his cheek. His eyes looked into yours unseeing, panic and pain coursing through the blue depths. He didn't seem able to calm his own breathing and you knew you had to act quick if you wanted to keep him from hyperventilating.

"If you're not ready, we can leave" you added, realising that perhaps it had been too soon for him. He was yet to get used to the stump, he wasn't ready to cover it up. Tears slipped from his eyes and you pulled him into a hug, holding him close to you.

"Where did you go off to?" Maria's soft spoken question pulled you back to the present. Her sigh of relief mirroring yours as soon as her feet left the floor when she sat on the barstool next to you.

"What?" Confused, you looked at her, it didn't register that she had meant it figuratively.

"I don't know where you went, but it was far off." she smiled and followed the direction in which you had been staring. Maria frowned as there was nothing to see, some couples kissing and people talking as they stood in line for the toilets.

"I keep being pulled back down memory lane." you finally offered and glanced over to where Bucky was standing next to Steve, a drink in hand as he cautiously glanced around the room. His body obviously on high alert, much like it had been that day. He was uncomfortable.

"How are you holding up?" Maria wondered now, understanding just what had you going down that road.

"Besides spacing out?" You laughed and Maria chuckled along, "I'll be fine," you promised her and she nodded her head once, certain that you would be. That was the moment Clint walked up with a tray full of shots, calling everyone that still remained closer.

As soon as everyone held one of the tiny glasses, he began to thank them for coming. Saying just how happy their presence made him and his soon-to-be wife. Cheering, you all downed the drink quickly. The vile taste of the shot making you cough as it went down your throat. Liquorice, there wasn't much you thought more vile than that. However, you were outnumbered in that belief as the rest quickly asked for more.

You happily declined, offering your share to Natasha who happily accepted while you turned in your seat and ordered yourself another water. That had been enough alcohol for you. You still had to get the happy couple home in a little bit.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky moving towards the door and you glanced over to Steve who caught your eye and shrugged. He didn't know why he was leaving either. Handing the blond your glass, you quickly followed the brunet outside.

"Are you leaving?" You called out, regretting that you had not grabbed a coat as you wrapped your arms around yourself in a weak attempt to keep warm, your breath turning white as it left your mouth. Despite the warmth of the day, temperatures still dropped in the evening this time of the year. Bucky stopped, his long locks blowing in the wind, wavered a moment, before turning and walking back to you in a few quick strides. He sighed, looking around the street, effectively avoiding your eyes.

"It's…too busy" he finally said after a silence that felt much longer than it probably had been. You felt a sting in your heart as his words landed. You'd never thought of that. Never bothered to ask if he was okay. You had just assumed, since he used to be the life of the party. Back in the day, he was the first to drag everyone clubbing, the first to throw a party for whatever reason he could find. The more the merrier was his motto when it came to invitations. None of that applied to him anymore, you knew, though it obviously still was hard to actually consider.

"I'm sorry Buck. Why don't we get the rest and move this to my place?" You offered, wanting him to feel comfortable without pulling away from everyone. Though having him come to the house you had once shared together might have been weird for him as well.

"No, you have fun. I'll be fine" he shook his head, ready to turn away from you again.

"It wouldn't be a problem" you said, a hand on his elbow, gently keeping him in place. He just shook his head and gently moved out of your grasp. He began walking again and as he did, you felt the tears burn the back of your eyes again. As if he was leaving you all over again, even though that wasn't fair. This just wasn't his scene anymore.

A shaky breath left your mouth as you kept watching him until he turned a corner. That was when you finally moved again and walked back inside, greeted by six inquiring looks.


A/N:As is clear by the regular updates, I am still on sick-leave. Giving me plenty of time to write...though not always enough energy. Anyway, I'm hoping you all liked this new instalment.
Feedback would be greatly appreciated!