"Hey, doll."
Harper grinned at the familiar voice over the phone. "Hey, hun. How are you?"
"Fine. I had lunch with Yori and then made more amends."
"How is Yori doing?"
James cleared his throat with an uncomfortable cough and said, "Missing his son."
Harper frowned. He had confided in her that Yori was someone he was struggling to make amends with. Having to confess to the sweet older man that his son had been murdered by the Winter Soldier was no small feat. "You don't need to tell me anything in detail, but is your therapist helping you process these amends? Helping to plan how to make them?"
Her partner sighed, indicating he did not want to proceed in the conversation. "Not especially. I don't know, Harper. I can't talk to her like she clearly wants me to. Then she gets aggravated, and I get pissed off, and we go nowhere. I'm just going because I have to at this point."
"She gets aggravated?" Harper asked sharply. "How do you mean?"
James proceeded to describe the huffing and snide remarks from his therapist, the subtle threats, the punitive action of pulling out his file to make notes in it, and the ways she purposely pushed his buttons. Harper couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her mouth opened and closed several times, unable to form words.
When silence had stretch on between them, he asked, "Doll?"
It took Harper another moment to say, "Holy shit, James, no wonder you hate going! That is not therapy!"
"Maybe it's just me being difficult," he mumbled.
"No, no, no," Harper disagreed adamantly. "There is no excuse for a therapist behaving that way. Pushing a patient to that extent, punishing them for their behavior… I'm disgusted."
She heard him shuffling around in the background before he said, "Please don't worry about it, Harper. She already knows my bullshit, and I at least know she listens and is available. I just want to get through this mandate and move on."
Harper stood and paced back and forth across her small living room. Aslan watched her from his perch in the window. His long legs were tucked beneath him, big green eyes following her movements lazily. She moved to the kitchen to get him a couple of treats.
"Could you please say something, darlin'?"
"I just… feel like you've been screwed out of something good yet again. I was excited for you, even though this is all part of your pardon, because you were given direct access to a resource to help you feel better and to move forward carrying your past and your pain more comfortably."
"You've helped me with that."
"But I can't help you in the way I was hoping this therapist would. I can't do that work with you without creating further problems or seriously damaging our relationship. And I can't be effective in the same way because I love you and I know you as my partner."
"I'm fine, Harper."
"Hun, you moved back to Brooklyn and are having nightmares again. We can't talk about Steve, even though losing him hurt me too."
"You don't get it!" he snapped. Voice rising, the former soldier continued, "I lost my entire life in 1944. But at least I still had Steve. I always had Steve. And now I've lost him, too."
"In 2018, I lost the life I was dreaming of," Harper replied. "And I lost Kat, who had been my best friend for most of my life. What I went through was different than what you've been through, but-"
"It is different. You aren't drowning in blood, wishing for the one person who..."
"I understand much better than you are giving me credit for."
"But it isn't the same," James insisted roughly. "I'm sorry, Harper, but-"
"Please do not 'sorry but' me."
James scoffed on the other end of the call, and they were silent for a moment. "I thought you understood me when I said I was moving back here. Now you're holding it over me. You're throwing my nightmares back in my face, and demanding I talk about Steve like our grief is the same. It's fuckin' suffocating!"
Tears sprang into Harper's eyes, quickly making their way down her cheeks. "That's not my intention. James, you aren't fine. You need support and not only can I not give you everything you need, but you won't let me."
"What support, Harper?"
Her chest constricted around the question that pierced it. She sank to her couch, finally unable to keep up her pacing. Masking her hurt with anger, she shouted, "All I've ever done is try and support you! I've always tried to be the person you can lean on!"
"But all you've done since this therapy thing started is try to push me further into it. Just because that's what you do and what you believe in, doesn't mean you need to keep bringing it up and pushing me, making this whole goddamn thing more complicated!"
"I wasn't trying to push you," she choked out through a sob.
"Everyone needs to stop treating me like I'm broken, like I'm still the Soldier. I can handle myself now; I'm in the driver's seat! I've made it on my own for more years than you've been alive. I don't need Dr. Raynor's needling at me, I don't need Sam's check-ins that he feels obligated to make because of Steve, and I certainly don't need you looking down on me from on high and trying to relate to me at every fuckin' turn! It's bullshit, and I'm sick of it!"
"I'm sorry," she managed against her tears.
"All I wanted was to talk to you about how Yori set me up on a date tonight and now I-"
Harper dissolved into thick sobs, gasping breaths rattling behind her ribs. A date?!
He sighed heavily. "Darlin', are you-?"
"I have to go," she cut him off.
"Harper, wait-"
But she didn't wait. She hastily ended the call and turned her phone off before falling back into the couch cushions. Her tears continued to come hard and fast, her body shaking. James had never been angry like that with her. She didn't know what to think. Had she been pushing him, hurting him, this whole time in the four months since he'd been back? Why couldn't he understand that she was just doing the best she could? Why couldn't they share their pain with each other like they always had? Did he truly not understand that she had been hurting too?
Aslan carefully climbed down from his perch, slowly making his way over to the couch. He shimmied his backside in preparation before springing up, claws digging into the fabric of the couch as his old joints worked to pull his large body up onto the seat. Harper reached out to him, scooping him up and into her. She buried her face in his fur, noticed not for the first time that it was less abundant than it used to be, and cried harder.
Bucky was already in a foul mood when he awoke and turned on his television to catch the news. He was furious with himself; he had no idea what had come over him to go off on Harper the day before. It had been the perfect storm in a lot of ways. Sneaking around to make amends and make up for yet another terrible thing he'd done as the Winter Soldier, a terrible therapy appointment, staring his guilt in the face at his weekly lunch with Yori, the stress of being set up on a date that couldn't be a date and which he didn't even want to go to… And then something about Harper being upset about his struggles had just snapped something in him.
She was right – he wasn't fine. It had all become too much. Finally gaining his freedom just in time to lose Steve felt like yet another cruel trick life had played on him. It tipped the scale. The nightmares came back after that. He didn't know who he was and now that he didn't have to run anymore, he didn't know who he could be. Bucky had nobody other than Harper and he had no idea if he was capable of being the man he wanted to be for her.
He had thought that some changes to get back to his roots would help. Moving back to Brooklyn, cutting his hair, and shaving his beard had seemed like logical first steps. In some ways it was refreshing to finally shed the weight of his appearance as the Winter Soldier and a fugitive, but it wasn't as impactful as he had hoped. And being back in Brooklyn was nice, but it wasn't home anymore. It was too different and didn't feel the same as it once had. Bucky had begun to wonder if he would ever feel at home again.
With Harper he had always felt at home. Until recently, anyway. Not that his feelings for her had changed; he was still deeply in love with the brunette. It was more that things were different. She had expressed her fear that this would be the case and he logically knew they were bound to experience some growing pains. She had five years of major life events to have changed and shaped her whereas he had none of that. When he was pardoned and then Steve left, he had turned desperately to her, to the only home he had left, to find that it wasn't how he remembered. She was still the same in so many ways. Yet not.
And now he had jeopardized ever being able to go home to her. After the senseless fight he had picked, he had tried calling and texting her to no avail. She had turned her phone off, cutting off the possibility of sorting things out. And he couldn't even blame her. He raised his voice to her, was plain mean to her. He had spewed nasty, untruthful things. Had made her feel awful. Then, without any tact at all, he revealed that he had a date that same night. Hearing her cry like that, the devastation clear in her sobs, woke him up from his hazy rage.
He'd then gone on the "date" and quickly clarified that he had a long-term girlfriend that Yori had neither known nor been receptive to hearing about at lunch. Thankfully, Leah had taken the information in stride and knowingly agreed that Yori could get a bit too excited and assertive in his endeavors to do nice things for his friends. They had each had a drink and played Battleship until Leah began talking about Yori and how the worst thing that could happen to someone is to lose their child. He'd had to leave, which left him alone to agonize about how Harper still hadn't turned her phone back on.
And now he was watching Good Morning America where they were interviewing John Walker, a man who had somehow been granted the mantle of Captain America and who had Steve's shield. And this man on the TV was talking about Steve like he knew him, like he understood what had made Steve special and uniquely capable of being Captain America.
"Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother," Walker told the interviewer.
Bucky's jaw clenched tightly. A brother. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rip Sam Wilson a new one.
Bucky hated John Walker even more now that he had fought with and spoken to him. He was unsurprised when Sam caught up to him, stalking down the dirt road. They needed to get back stateside, but it wasn't worth accepting a favor from the "new Captain America."
"That guy's a piece of work," Sam grumbled, shaking his head.
Bucky bit back a snippy response about how the other man had given the "piece of work" Steve's shield. He was out of patience and out of energy after their crushing defeat and learning that there was a band of rebel super soldiers running amok. It had been a hell of a day.
With a start, he reached into his pocket for his phone. His chest twisted with a mess of emotions.
Harper: I saw GMA this morning. I'm really sorry, hun. You probably don't want to speak with me, especially after I ignored you all night. But could you please just let me know if you're alright?
Harper: James?
Harper: Please, please respond.
Harper: I'm really worried, James. I know you're angry with me. You don't need to say anything else. Just please. Are you alright?
Harper: I hope you're okay or are doing something to help you be okay. I love you.
He hated that he had made her worry. That he had most certainly hurt her with his silence, unintentional as it was. With haste, Bucky sent her a reply.
James: I'm okay, Harper. I haven't been able to look at my phone. I wasn't ignoring you, and I want to talk to you. I just can't right now. I'm with Sam dealing with a situation. I love you too.
Harper: I'm relieved to hear from you. Please stay safe out there and let me know if/when you want to talk.
James: I will. Promise.
"Are you for real texting right now?" Sam asked.
"No," Bucky answered flatly, slipping the phone back into his jacket.
It didn't take long for Harper to figure out what "situation" James had been referring to in their brief text conversation. News of the Flag Smashers hit the airwaves not long after. She had mixed feelings about the group. As always, people with the fewest means and advantages had been most negatively impacted by the return of those lost to the Snap. In a lot of ways, world governments and health organizations were failing a lot of people. She just worried about where this conflict was going, especially if there were details yet unknown to the public that had captured the attention and action of James and Sam.
She hoped he was being safe. Well, as safe as can be when he was probably sleuthing and fighting. Harper had decided she wouldn't reach out to him again, though. She didn't want to distract or interrupt any of what he was doing. Anyway, things felt incredibly tenuous between them and it was not an exciting thought that she might make him angry again.
The last thing he said in their argument remained annoyingly at the forefront of her mind, even though it clearly should not have been her biggest concern. That he had been set up on a date had been a revelation she couldn't handle. She should have remained on the call, heard him out, explained what she was feeling and thinking. Instead, she had panicked and fled. Now she could only sit around and wonder what happened on the date he attended on the heels of their fight. He had been so very upset with her…
But James wasn't a man who would be unfaithful. He had too much loyalty and respect to do such a thing. And, she tried to remind herself constantly, he loved her. He loved her, so he wouldn't have done anything with another woman. She knew these things to be true, but her fear of losing him again made it hard to believe.
Harper sighed and stood from where she had rolled into a sad ball on her couch. It seemed that had been where she spent most of her time the last two days when she was home. She knew she needed to snap out of it. With that intention in mind, she moved to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. However, when she looked at the clock on her oven and saw that she had been moping quite a bit longer than she thought, Harper opted instead to simply pull out the last quarter of a honeydew melon she had stored in the fridge and a spoon. Dinner in hand, she returned to her sulking spot.
"Good afternoon, this is Dr. Montgomery," Harper spoke into her clunky office phone. She finished typing her session note and glanced at the clock. She hoped this call would be short so she could take a bathroom break before her next patient arrived.
"Hello, Dr. Montgomery. This is Dr. Raynor at the Brooklyn VA. How are you?"
The brunette sat up higher in her seat. What on earth was she getting a call from the Brooklyn VA for? "I'm well, Dr. Raynor. And you?"
"Fine, fine. I'm calling because you are listed as the emergency contact for James Barnes. He hasn't shown up for his appointment today, and I was wondering if you might know what's going on with him."
Harper flushed with anxiousness. She was on the phone with James's garbage therapist, and he was in violation of his court mandate. This was not good. With a deep breath she answered, "I've not spoken with him in a few days. We texted briefly two days ago and he assured me he was well, but I couldn't tell you what he's doing or where he is."
"Well, I thank you anyway."
Harper had a rapid internal battle with herself. This was the perfect opportunity to speak with this woman about her terrible practice. She wasn't acting in her professional capacity, and the other woman was. But then she remembered the fight still left unresolved, and James's accusation that she had been pushing him. With tightness in her chest, she knew she couldn't say anything. She wouldn't meddle where he clearly didn't want her.
"Are there any doctors he might be seeing? Or any conditions that may have barred his attendance?" the other therapist asked.
"No and no," she answered simply.
"Alright. Thank you, Dr. Montgomery. I appreciate your time."
"Not a problem. I hope this is resolved swiftly. If I hear from him, I will direct him to you."
"That would be helpful. Enjoy your afternoon."
"You as well."
Harper had to consciously refrain from slamming the receiver into the cradle. What she wouldn't have given to tear into that woman. But that didn't matter. She pulled out her phone, earlier resolve not to text him again crumbled. They may not be on good terms, but she needed to try to reach him.
Harper: James, I got a call from Dr. Raynor. You've missed an appointment. If you don't get there ASAP, the courts will issue a warrant for your arrest for violating your mandate. I know you're out dealing with big things right now, but please at least call her.
She got no response.
A/N: I'm so looking forward to hearing from you all now that we've arrived at some conflict! I know this story often sees Bucky as appearing pretty well-adjusted, and he is. Until he is very much not. I think that fits the course of his life and his trauma well. Thoughts?