Flashlight


Chapter eleven


"Why did you come back?" The question slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself. Though the question had been burning on your tongue for quite some time now, asking it so bluntly had not been the plan. Shocked by your own actions, you inhaled sharply and looked expectantly up at Bucky.

You had wanted to ask him why he had left, that had been the original plan. Instead you screwed up and you were unable to squash down the grimace that made its way onto your face. Would he be angry? Would he walk away from the conversation all together? Could you blame him if he did? Honestly, no. Then again, he wasn't you. He had always been better adapt to withstand confrontation. Still, you feared that you had put a stop to his willingness to answer your questions and that you had shut him down just when he was finally ready to open up.

The fear grew rapidly in your stomach, making you nauseous. Heat rose to your face and you wondered if it had suddenly gotten hotter in the room. Pulling at the collar of your shirt, you hoped that the colour on your cheeks wasn't as obvious as it felt and wondered if the ground would perhaps be willing to swallow you whole. Especially when his eyes grew wide as saucers while he stared at you.

Too busy trying to brace yourself for his reaction, you didn't notice the change in Bucky's demeanour. His shoulders began to shake slightly, quietly for a moment, and suddenly a loud barking laughter left his mouth. Surprise took over your features and Bucky stilled again, raising an eyebrow to accompany his grin.

He took a deep breath to calm himself again while he seemed to ponder your question. It made you wonder if he was willing to answer. His laughter had shaken you and you wondered just what you could expect, especially when the following silence dragged on. What was minutes felt like hours and it took a lot of willpower to keep sitting still. You were just about to talk again, to fill the uncomfortable silence, when he finally decided to open his mouth.

Bucky cleared his throat and took a deep breath before words finally flowed out.

"I would've come back sooner," another deep breath, "I wanted too."

"Why didn't you?" You asked, silently cursing yourself for interrupting him.

"Thought you all hated me," he muttered softly, looking down at the hand that lay still on his lap. He fell silent for a moment, seemingly struggling with what he wanted to say. Or perhaps what he didn't want to say, you thought to yourself.

"I didn't think you'd want me back here," he confessed with a shrug, his flesh hand scratched at his neck sheepishly and a flush appeared on his cheeks.

Your shoulders slumped as he talked. You wanted answers from him so badly, but you didn't seem to be able to squash that feeling of needing to reassure him. A part of you hated yourself for this constant need to make others happy, to always put others before yourself. Because right now, you were angry. You had been angry at Bucky. And you had a right to be. You'd have to choose yourself over him at some point, but it was hard not to consider his feelings.

In the back of your mind, your mothers voice rang clear; you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Giving your head a slight shake to clear it, you decided to adhere to her words. There was no need for hostility. He was ready to answer you and perhaps you could still soothe some of his fears in the process. In some way, you could hopefully both get what you needed.

"I was hurt Buck, heartbroken even. But I didn't hate you. I don't think anyone did. We just didn't understand," you finally offered him in a soft tone and he smiled grateful in response. He took another deep breath and again you wondered just what went through that mind of his.

"When I got the announcement through my mom, I figured I should at least contact Clint," Bucky began talking again.

You wondered if there had been no contact with Clint and for how long that had been. When Bucky had first left, you knew the boys had kept in touch. You had simply assumed that this continued throughout the months and years. Perhaps this wasn't true.

You had never asked any of them and none of them offered the information. Instead they had tiptoed around you, worried about your wellbeing. Steve had been especially protective after Bucky had left. He had taken it upon himself to make sure you'd make it out of the dark pit you had fallen into during that time. It occurred to you now that his behaviour had been as much about you as it had been about himself. Steve and Bucky had grown up together, gone to war together, they had done everything together. Until Bucky had left suddenly and in the dead of night. You wondered how much anger and pain Steve had felt over it and more importantly why you had not asked him about it at the time.

Bucky pulled you from your train of thought when he continued to speak and you stored your questions for Steve for a moment, though vowing to yourself to come back to them later.

"I called Clint and we met up."

Your eyes widened in surprise at those words. When had that happened? Where? Bucky smiled at your reaction and paused his storytelling to explain that little tidbit of information for you.

"He was in Montana for a work a while back."

"You were living in Montana?" The shock just kept on coming. There was so much new information being thrown your way and though you did not want to derail the conversation too much, it was impossible not to react to it.

"There really is so much I have to tell you," Bucky sounded apologetic. You could only nod in agreement. There was no lie in his statement. He had uprooted his life and a lot must have changed, while you had remained the same. Your life had been still, motionless, during that same time period. It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially since your mind had wandered, created a whole life for him during these years. His life had been good, better than your, in your imagination.

"I will, I promise!" He offered and with a small nod you accepted his promise, ready to hear how he had reconnected with Clint. After all, that might offer up some information as well.

"I reached out when he came to town. I don't think I've ever been more nervous. Thought he'd throw the door in my face, but he didn't. I didn't even know what to say then, just so happy that he hadn't knocked me out,"

You smiled, Clint was a good guy. A great friend. You didn't think you would've reacted the same, after all you were notoriously bad at confrontation. The shock of seeing him would have either caused you to freeze up or slam that door in his face.

Bucky went on to tell you all about their first encounter and how it has been spent arguing. You chuckled, not entirely surprised. Clint was never one to pull punches, much like his wife. And you would only imagine how confrontational he had been with Bucky. You also knew that once he had said his bit, that would be the end of the argument for Clint. He was good at forgiving, perhaps because he had no issue voicing his problems as well. For you, things festered. Which made forgiveness hard to come by.
You really wanted to do things differently this time. You didn't want to make Bucky think all was well, only to explode on him in a few months time. It was time to learn how to do this properly.

Bucky revealed that he and Clint had been in near constant contact since that day. Eventually Clint had even asked Bucky to be part of the bridal party, banking on their shared history instead of those last two years. Bucky still wondered if he had deserved it, but had been beyond honoured by the request.

He explained that Clint's forgiveness had spurred him to be less evasive in his contact with Steve as well. Steve had been incredibly angry with Bucky, partly about his leaving, but even more so about the lack of real contact. He had not deemed the occasional superficial call or text to be good enough. You could not help but agree with the blond, gentle giant, despite your jealousy that he had at least gotten some contact.

Eventually Bucky even dared to call Natasha, to ask her how she felt about him showing up to their wedding. He confessed that this had not been too long before arriving in town. He had been too scared that she would rebuke his attempt of atonement and had therefore put the action off until the last possible moment.
Instead of anger, she had welcomed him. Told him that it was time to come out of hiding. She only had one condition; he needed to deal with the demons that had made him run in the first place. You chuckled, of course Nat would word it like that.

"So are you?" You wondered out loud.

"Am I?" His face scrunched up as he thought back to his last words and you could almost see it click in his mind, "Oh, dealing. Working on it, got myself a therapist," he said after you nodded. Shrugging a little self-conscious, he added, "Starting in two weeks."

"Good, that's good," you said with a smile, happy that he was ready to finally address his issues. A few moments later it dawned on you that there was a second meaning behind those words, "Does this mean you're staying?" You were scared to be hopeful and attempted to keep your feelings in check. It wasn't working very well.

"If you'll let me," he said sheepishly, "I'm really tired of running," his confession hung in the air.

You couldn't suppress a smile, your chest warming with the thought of Bucky sticking around. No matter what happened now, there would be time to work through your problems. If he stayed, perhaps some normalcy could return to your life. To his as well, probably. And maybe you could finally move on, with or without him.

"I can't promise it will be easy," you decided to tell him in all honesty.

"I don't really think it should be" he shrugged with a grin as he stared at his lap once more.

"Why? As some sort of punishment?" You scoffed, he really didn't need to be some martyr. He shrugged, not agreeing or denying, but you knew the truth in your words.

"Look Bucky, let's just get this straight. What you did was stupid. And incredibly complicated. But I don't think punishment…how is that going to help anyone?" You said with your voice as stern you could manage. He really needed to hear this, understand it.

"I ran away" he whispered.

"And proceeded to be on your own for two long years" you added a little more harshly than intended.

"Right…" he took another deep breath.

"Weren't you?" You tried to keep the tone neutral but it was impossible for Bucky to ignore the implication you were making. You knew you had betrayed your true question in the tone. Had he found someone else? You hoped his answer would be no, even if it also hurt you to think that he really had been completely alone.

"My mom didn't even visit me," his answer felt evasive to you, but you still didn't press the subject any further. Did you even really want to know?

"Well, at least she knew where you were," you countered accusingly. You hadn't meant to use that tone, but it stung. Hearing all he had to say in this moment was good, but it also brought back all the pain and uncertainty that you had felt. You never knew where he was, if he was okay, if he had moved on. At first you had asked his mom, but after a while it felt wrong to put her in the middle. It was up to him to inform you.

"I"m so sorry! You didn't deserve any of this" Bucky surged forwards and grabbed a hold of your hand. The touch sent a shock of electricity through you and you pulled your hand back.

"I really didn't," you sighed, checking the time and deciding that this was enough for one evening, "Look, why don't we call it a night for now. We'll talk soon, okay?"

"I'm really sorry for hurting you, for still hurting you!" Bucky exclaimed as you got up from the couch and he moved in sync with you. He stood close to you and it rattled you a little. You were ready for this conversation to end, at least for now your nerves were frayed and you needed him understand that you were hurt, angry. Having him this close nearly broke that resolve.

"I know" you offered a weak smile, taking a step back from him.

"I'm not sure how to fix it" he offered, his voice softer now.

"Stay, fight and we might just get there" you offered with another weak smile and he nodded before bidding you goodbye.

When he was gone you turned and walked straight to the bedroom, dropping down on the bed and screaming into a pillow.

Sleep was hard to come by that night, your mind swirling with all the new information and the feelings that it had stirred in you. You were glad he planned to stick around, but it also made you realise just how many emotions you had pushed down over the years. You knew very well that all of those would come out eventually.


A/N:I am sorry for the delay since the last chapter. Due to poor health I had a hard time focussing my attention on writing. I hope you can forgive me.
The health problems are ongoing, but I seem to be able to focus a bit better right now.