Many thanks to those who are still reading and still leaving reviews, they are very much appreciated :)
In this chapter, a different but strangely familiar Bucky begins to emerge.
All errors are my own and unintentional. As always, thoughts are welcome.
Chapter Eight:
I'm the tree that falls and makes no sound…
Alex watches as Connor places both bags on the large kitchen table. She then looks back at Mary who stands nearby, her fingers knotted tight and twisting together over and over. She notices how she bites her bottom lip, a tiny frown marring her brow.
"Hey," she murmurs and sees her eyes flick up to her face. Alex takes a step closer to her.
"I have faith in you, you know that, right?" She keeps her voice low, soothing. Mary nods hastily but Alex gets the distinct impression that it's only for show and she very quietly sighs. She glances at Connor as she moves closer to the table and slowly extracts the contents of both bags one by one. They're all neatly folded, freshly laundered as well as repaired or altered or whatever they've decided to do with them. She's aware of Mary behind her, rooted to the spot, her fingers busy with their constant winding and twisting. It's something she used to do in her earliest days here with her kids, her face still swollen purple and blue with bruises, the white of one eye tomato red because of a burst blood vessel courtesy of a fist ploughed into it. She's all but vibrating with tension. Another glance as Connor comes to stand beside her tells her that he's getting the exact same vibe as she is. She then looks back at Mary over one shoulder.
"C'mon, let's take a look. You know this is a waste of time don't you because your work is always exceptional." She waits until Mary comes to stand beside her and she unfolds the first item of clothing, a pair of jeans that have been hemmed and taken in.
"Look at the quality of that stitching Mary," Alex begins as she examines the legs of the jeans, turning the hem inside out. "If you were a surgeon, you'd be one of the best, Gabe can only dream of having sewing skills this good, me too." She glances at her with a soft smile as she refolds them and puts them to one side.
For a few moments, they don't speak as Alex carefully examines each item of clothing.
"Is Frankie back on the scene, Mary?" she enquires, keeping her tone light, neutral and most definitely non-accusatory. Gets her answer by the quiet but sharp intake of breath and how Mary looks at her out of the corner of her eyes.
"No," she retorts defensively but Alex already knows, has heard it before.
"You know, it's okay to tell us, we're not gonna judge you. How did he find you?"
"He's not on the scene Alex."
"You're on edge honey, you only get like this when you're stressed, like when you first came here with the kids at the beginning. We're not blaming you or accusing you of anything, I would just like to know how he found you."
Silence drops again and for a long moment as she examines the other items of clothing, Alex thinks she isn't going to answer.
"He appeared outside of my place of work a few days ago and said he wanted to see the kids, said it was his right as their father to see them." Mary's voice is mouse quiet.
Alex turns her head slightly to look at her again, sees the wide eyed nerves, colour bleached out of already pale skin and the bitten raw bottom lip.
"He's subject to a court order preventing contact with you and the kids and it's there for a reason. He has no rights," she softly reminds her.
"Not according to him, he says he knows better than any lawyer." Mary's voice turns bitter. Alex exchanges another look with Connor and it takes her all she has not to roll her eyes.
"Remind me Mary, when did he graduate from law school? The law knows better and he should be arrested. Does he know where you live?" She watches as Mary slowly turns her head and she looks at her with wide, suddenly horrified eyes.
"I don't know. I hope not," she whispers. Alex takes a slow deep breath and then makes herself smile at her. Chances are he does and he's just biding his time, that he'll show up at her place unannounced when she's at her most vulnerable. She pushes down the anger that she feels.
"The kids are in school, right? How about I get in touch with Angie and Benny and they'll meet you here and you can go and collect them when school is done, at least if Frankie does show up, Benny is big enough to take him on if necessary and you can go to their place and be safe until we figure out our next step."
Angie and Benny are part of the network of people she's a member of. Benny is ex NYPD and built like a barn. Angie runs a similar safe house to hers across the city and she and Benny have been a couple for the past fifteen years. She and Alex look out for each other, talk regularly and help each other out when necessary. They're all tight knit, sharing the same strict code of silence.
She sees the quandary cross Mary's face.
"Listen, we knew that there was a possibility of this happening, that he'd show up again out of the blue. You know his routine, his methods. He'll try to win you around again, use his charm, make you promises that he'll change, that he'll never lay another hand on you again and maybe that'll be true for a little while. He'll buy you gifts, try to woo the kids on side. He's done it before don't forget that. He won't keep any of those promises, not a single one and he'll start using his fists on you again and maybe the kids too," Alex reminds her, sees how she takes a deep breath, her eyes bright with fear. "But the difference is this time you have us on side; me, Connor, Callum, Angie and Benny. We won't let him get within five feet of you or the kids."
"He's sneaky though Alex, you know how cunning he can be."
"And so can we…" Anything else she's about to say dies when she hears voices. She listens and then hears the belligerence of one of them and her heart sinks. She looks at Mary who stares back with wide, terrified eyes.
"Crap," she whispers.
Frankie's found them.
Coffee plays havoc with the bladder Bucky realises as he leaves the men's room but at least he now remembers that he likes coffee. It would seem he's agreeable to coffee, tea as well as orange juice. Perhaps he'll be agreeable to the idea of beer in the near future too.
As he approaches his seat at the bar, the front door opens. Bright sunlight floods through, embracing everything that it touches almost joyfully. He pauses for a moment, feeling the brief jolt of apprehension that fires through him. He squints at the silhouette that frames the doorway, every sense on alert, feet ready to move. He can feel the tension float on the air before it settles and fades. He takes a slow breath and he tells himself that it's okay to sit down but he watches, just the same.
"Damn it," Bucky hears Callum curse a sparse second later and he glances across at him and then to their visitor, their silhouette and feels the energy levels in the room begin to buzz. As he comes into focus he can see that he's a tall guy, black haired, well-muscled with thick arms and thighs and broad shoulders. Bucky goes very still, nerve endings tingling. He watches as the man's dark eyes scope out his surroundings and there's a set to his jaw that he's not finding agreeable. Trouble.
He glances back at Callum.
"Frankie?" he enquires in a quiet voice and the look Callum sends him is just as fleeting.
"Yeah. Whatever you do, don't let him in the kitchen, okay?"
"Sure," Bucky agrees and he returns his attention to Frankie who stops beside the bar and looks at Callum, weighing him up.
"Where is she?" he demands.
No formality, no niceties, nothing. Bucky realises that this dance has been performed before.
"Mary? No idea," Callum replies with a nonchalant shrug.
"Don't lie to me, I saw her come in with that kid in the glasses."
Callum shakes his head. "She's not here man and you'd better leave." He goes to turn away but Frankie lunges across the bar and grabs his upper arm, holding on tight and Callum winces as he turns back to glare at him. Neither of them see Bucky move; he slides off his seat and reaches across and grabs onto Frankie's wrist with his left hand.
"You've been asked to leave, so why don't you let go of him and do as you're told?" His voice is mild, almost polite.
He watches Frankie slowly turn his head and look at him in brief astonishment but doesn't release his grip so Bucky tightens his. He sees how he looks down when he hears the quiet rev of the cybernetics in his metal prosthesis.
"What the…hell?"
"You heard him and you heard me." Bucky's voice is still quiet, his gaze ice blue and steady on the other man's face.
"And what if I don't want to?"
"You really don't want to know the answer to that one." He keeps his voice level in the almost empty room and just to put his point across, he tightens his grip on his wrist a little more and sees how Frankie's eyes widen in pain. A little more added pressure will succeed in breaking bones.
"It's none of your business pal so why don't you back off!" Frankie hisses and Bucky watches the pain flare in his eyes causing tears to rise and he stares at them in fascination. He's tempted to add a little extra pressure anyway just to hear those bones begin to snap. Instead he tilts his head to one side as he gazes at him.
"You gonna make me?"
'Pick on someone your own size.' It flashes like lightning through his brain. An alleyway, the skinny kid again lying face down beside a small collection of trash cans.
He blinks and it's gone.
Instead he sees how Frankie assesses him. Notes how he's beginning to gauge his chances, that maybe even with his added muscle he can't intimidate this one.
But he wants him to try anyway. Really wants to hear those bones crack
Then again he'll make do with hearing the strain in his voice instead.
"This has nothing to do with you so why don't you just walk away and nobody will get hurt." Frankie does his best not to gasp out loud.
Bucky widens his eyes almost theatrically.
"Meaning me, right? You're gonna hurt me? You're confident that's gonna happen? I'm the one holding your wrist, I'm the one who could break it like a popsicle stick." Tightens his hold just a touch more, almost grins at Frankie's more obvious wince of pain. Sees more tears fill his eyes.
He's a big guy, soldier or cop perhaps so shouldn't he be able to withstand this kinda pain?
Apparently not.
"You a cop or a soldier or somethin'?" Frankie wheezes out. Bucky wonders for a second whether he's able to read his thoughts as he hears a thread of something ripple through his voice. Trepidation maybe?
No… fear. That's it.
He gives a deliberately slow shrug.
"Or somethin'," he answers in a low voice and doesn't elaborate.
"You're Mary's new boyfriend? She said she was seein' someone. She get herself a tough guy now?"
Bucky stares at him in confusion.
"You're assuming that she's here and even if she was, she's probably had her fill of tough guys real or imagined," he retorts with a roll of his eyes. "Now let go of Callum like I requested you to. Don't make me ask you again."
He waits and finally Frankie releases his grip on Callum's arm. Bucky glances at him out of the corner of his eye and gives him a quick nod and Callum takes a couple of steps back. Frankie tries to yank his wrist free of Bucky's grip but he holds on tightly. Watches him somewhat steadily.
"Now you're gonna turn around and get your ass out of here. Don't come back." With deliberate slowness he uncurls his fingers from the other man's wrist, seeing the relief in his eyes, how he rubs at it. Frankie looks back at Bucky, the relief quickly being swapped over for spite.
"You won't be here all the time," he spits at him, feeling brave all of a sudden that his wrist is no longer being held in a bone-crushing grip.
Bucky shrugs slowly again.
"You don't know that," he answers calmly and waits, watches the big man finally turn, not before seeing the look of pure frustration on his face before he departs, slamming the door shut behind him.
Despite himself, Bucky flinches at the loud slam that echoes around the room.
"That's gonna leave a mark," Callum quips and Bucky blinks and looks at him in mild confusion. "You okay? You looked out of it intense there for a moment or two."
Bucky sighs shakily and turns his head and straightens up when he sees Alex standing just inside the kitchen doorway, Connor a short distance behind her and between them, peeking out to one side is Mary. She's deathly pale, trembling even from this distance.
"It's okay, he's gone," Callum tells them. Bucky remains still, watching the trio slowly approach them. Alex's eyes are on the wide side as she stares at him and he looks away, ducks his head down and pretends great fascination for his boots.
"Bucky?" Her voice is soft and he feels her hand on his back and his eyes flash back to her face, holding for a minute before dropping down again.
"Are you okay?" she murmurs and his answering nod is hasty. He moves away, back to his stool and slides onto it.
A few minutes later and a beer bottle appears into his line of vision and he slowly raises his head and looks into Callum's dark brown eyes.
"I think you've earned this, it's on the house," he tells him. Bucky holds his gaze for a second or two before turning his attention to the red and white label pasted to the side of the glass.
"Thanks," he whispers huskily.
He takes a deep shaky breath and curls his fingers around the ice cold bottle, lifts it to his lips and takes an experimental sip.
Alex is working at the bar; serving drinks, taking food orders and delivering them always with a smile. Bucky is nearby, out of immediate sight in the cavernous room but close enough that he can see who comes in and out of the main entrance and also so he can keep Alex in view. He feels things settle easier in his head when he can see her. The room fills up and empties with regularity. The single beer went down smoothly and since then he's stuck to coffee and water. He spends the time watching Alex work and taking in the lie of the land. Waits for the tension that holds him taut to lessen and ease but it doesn't, not really. Past experience keeps him vigilant, ready to move when necessary.
He eats lunch with her in the kitchen; she makes him a sandwich and they share soup. He sees someone come in out of the corner of his eye and he goes still but doesn't attempt to bolt this time but he still feels the shiver of apprehension slither down his spine nonetheless.
"Mary," he hears Alex greet and he hears the warmth in her voice.
Allows himself to marginally relax.
"I…would it be okay… if I speak to…Bucky?"
He lifts his head when he hears her voice, the hesitancy in it and he lowers the spoon he holds in his hand.
"Sure," he answers and he waits. Watches how she looks briefly at Alex before she takes the seat beside her, notes it's still a safe distance away from him.
Good. You should be nervous. It bounces around inside of his skull and he blinks.
Mary fixes her gaze on his face for a long moment, as if committing him to memory. He fights against the urge to duck his head and avoid her gaze.
"I wanted to say…thank you for what you did…this morning."
It's his turn to stare at her, then he swallows, doesn't speak for a moment.
"It's fine," he eventually replies.
Mary slowly shakes her head.
"Nobody's ever got in Frankie's face like you did. You weren't scared of him at all, I could see that about you. Nothing scares you."
Oh you'd be surprised.
He keeps his expression blank.
"He's a bully and I don't like bullies," he tells her.
Why does that sound familiar to him?
He refrains from shaking the thought out of his head and instead takes a breath.
"Will you be okay?" he asks instead. Mary glances quickly Alex's way and her smile is equally swift.
"I will be," she tells him.
He doesn't respond to that, just gives a small nod and looks down. He looks back up when he hears her get to her feet, take a breath and he finds himself watching her once more. Sees how she frowns and it looks to him as if she's building herself up to say something more to him.
"Your eyes give you away you know," she begins and Bucky feels something similar to surprise frisson through him. He remains still, doesn't look away though it's what he wants to do and he waits. Slowly Mary smiles, glances briefly at Alex again before returning her attention to him.
"It's said that the eyes are the window to the soul and right now your soul is broken. You're a good guy Bucky, I hope one day your soul will be healed enough so that you'll remember that and let yourself be."
For a moment, he doesn't speak and then quietly he clears his throat.
Not a good guy. He's not a good guy at all. Never will be again.
"With… respect, you don't know me at all," he tells her, his voice low. This time he does look away.
"You're right, I don't but I do know a broken soul when I see one."
He's got a feeling about Frankie, it niggles at the back of his mind. He remembers guys like him from way back whenever it was. They were bullies and bullies don't like dealing with someone who isn't afraid of them, especially someone with a cybernetic metal arm, a wickedly strong grip, a glitch memory and absolutely nothing to lose. They don't like to be made to feel as small as their victims and therefore they feel that they have a score to settle. Mary isn't here anymore, a couple of people stopped by to pick her up, a mountain sized man by the name of Benny who he knew was an ex-cop even before Alex told him and his partner, Angie. What she said to him about his broken soul clings to him. Right now his soul feels shattered, beyond repair.
Trouble will find him, he has no doubt of that and he really needs to get out of here, to leave this complication behind. Hasn't forgotten about New York, Brooklyn to be precise.
"Come on, you're done for today."
Bucky looks up when he hears Alex's voice. She's standing in front of him, hands on hips with a look on her face that tells him challenging her opinion isn't a good idea. The place is quiet, emptying out, a jukebox plays something he doesn't recognise which isn't a stretch.
"I'm fine," he answers anyway. Watches as she slides onto the high stool beside him and fixes him with a knowing look. It feels as though she can see right inside of him and it makes him shift a little in his seat.
"You're done. Callum is about to start closing up shortly and you and I are going back upstairs. You're wound tighter than a pocket watch right now and I don't want something to trigger you into causing chaos down here. Unlike me and Callum, Connor and Mary, other people may talk and something tells me you don't want to draw any more attention to yourself than what's necessary."
He stares at her, surprised by her perception and watches as she leans closer to him.
"Being around fellow human beings can be awesome most of the time but there's a time when being away from them can be equally as wonderful. It's quiet upstairs, you need some peace and quiet."
He just looks at her, still wondering how she knows and sees her soft smile in response.
"Mary can be very observant at times. You do get a look in your eyes, I've seen it before with others like you."
"Like me?"
"Beaten down. Just because right at this minute you're not the wreck of the man I found beside the dumpster the other day doesn't mean that you're all of a sudden fine. It's a process, a time consuming one at that. Come on, we can go upstairs, I'll make us some dinner and you can rest up. Tomorrow we'll talk about what needs to happen next." She slides off the stool and turns.
And she freezes.
Bucky sees him at the same time and gives a quiet sigh.
"Damn it," he mutters, echoing Callum from earlier as he recognises their visitor for the second time today.
"They're gone." Frankie's voice is a mixture of anger and injury.
"Frankie, I thought you were told that you aren't welcome here?" Alex's voice is level but Bucky hears a slight tremble in the tone, picks up on nerves. Slowly, carefully he slides off the stool and goes to stand by her left shoulder and watches him.
"I went by her apartment, was gonna talk to her there, away from all of you, so you wouldn't be able to drip your poison into her ears but she's not there." His face twists, hatred blazing in his eyes.
Alex faces him head on but doesn't answer. Her hunch about him knowing where Mary and the kids were living has been on the money. Instead she watches him; he's tense, agitated and in turn that makes her a little nervous. She watches how his eyes fix briefly on Bucky. How his jaw tenses.
"You know where they've gone, you better tell me or…"
"Or what?" Alex snaps. "What will you do? You know that's not gonna happen so threatening me won't work. She's safe from you, they're all safe from you, that's all you need to know! So why don't you just turn around and get out of here?"
Frankie glares at her. He takes a slow deliberate step towards her, temper flaring in his eyes and Bucky does the same, only halting when he feels her hand wrap around his wrist for a moment, holding him still.
"All of this started because of you!" Frankie hisses at her and she makes a show of widening her eyes.
"Really? And how is that?"
"You took Mary away from me, filled her head with a whole lot of nonsense. She and those kids of mine belong with me!" His voice begins to rise and instinctively Bucky moves a half step closer to Alex.
She gives a loud, annoyed sigh.
"You know I did no such thing Frankie, you just want to believe that I did because then in your head it excuses what you did to her. Newsflash: it doesn't. I just gave her the strength and support to get away from your violent ass. The rest she did all by herself and that's what you don't like. You don't like the fact that one, she's doing it and two, she's doing a great job of it and three, that she and the kids don't really need you."
Everyone hears the snarl in her voice in those last four words.
"I know that you've been sniffing around her again. How you found her I don't know and to be honest I don't care because that's for the cops and the courts to decide because you broke the terms of the restraining order she has against you which means that you will go straight to jail if you don't turn and walk out of here right now," she continues.
Bucky senses the subtle change in the atmosphere, carefully begins to reach for Alex's hand. Feels his hackles begin to rise.
Danger. Be careful.
"Bitch," Frankie hisses and reaches behind him.
Bucky realises what he means to do almost immediately. His eyes go wide when he hears Alex's startled gasp and he grabs her hand, pulls her up against him wrapping both arms around her body and he turns so that his left hand side is further forward as Frankie pulls a gun from behind him, aims and fires.
Once, twice, three times. The noise is deafening.
Bucky braces himself, keeps his head down, feeling each bullet strike his left arm which he lifts and moves across his face, the bullets ricocheting against the shoulder joint. He can hear Alex's panicked breathing against his ear as he holds tightly onto her, his right arm wrapped around her upper body, feels her cling to him and then cringe against him, all but burrowing into him.
He can hear a ringing in his ears, sharp and pure and the outside world seems to fade. There's a pause in the gunfire and Bucky lifts his head and looks at Frankie and sees how he stares back at him with wide disbelieving eyes, gun still aimed but he's shaking very slightly.
Danger. Threat. Disarm. Put down.
Bucky quickly pushes Alex behind him and then heads towards Frankie and as he approaches, Frankie squeezes the trigger once more and Bucky lifts his hand in front of his face, the bullet deflecting away as he gets closer to him. He barely acknowledges the shock registering on Frankie's face as he reaches for the weapon, yanking it out of his hand, transferring it to his right hand. He swipes across his face with his left hand, his fist crashing against his cheekbone, the cybernetics whistling as he does. Blood explodes from Frankie's nose as Bucky hits him hard and he staggers back. Using the butt of the gun, Bucky slams it into his temple and Frankie goes down in an untidy heap.
Stop no matter what. Shape the century. A gift to mankind.
He stands over him, staring down at him, ice blue gaze fixed upon his face, unblinking, expression tense but strangely blank, gun aimed at the middle of his forehead, his finger on the trigger, ready to squeeze.
Awaiting sanction.
"Enough!" Callum shouts from the bar but Bucky doesn't react, his eyes still fixed on Frankie who is barely conscious and certainly not moving.
Static fills his head. Awaiting final instruction. Awaiting sanction.
Shape the century. One last time. One last time.
"Bucky."
The voice is low, quiet, a gentle hand on his right arm, sliding down to cover his wrist.
"It's okay Bucky, you can stand down. I'm okay now. I think he's got the message." It's Alex's voice and she sounds calm and just like that he's back in the room, blinking down at Frankie and frowning, as if wondering what he's doing on the ground. He looks at the gun that he's holding and then turns his head and sees Alex beside him, still holding onto his wrist. Looks into her eyes, sees them wide with something…it looks like fear.
Is she afraid of him? What did she see? More to the point, who?
"Give me the gun. Everything is fine," she murmurs and he loosens his grip and allows her to slide it from him. Sees her place it on the bar in front of Callum, who immediately scoops it away. He looks back down at Frankie, sees the blood that covers his face, his nose obviously broken and his right eye is already swelling shut and there's a graze on the side of his head that's also oozing. Another frown. Is he responsible for that too? He looks up again and sees Alex coming back towards him.
She's bone white; her eyes the only colour in her face.
Scared. Scared of him.
He's wanted to tell her that he isn't a good man. She knows it now.
"Go upstairs. I'll deal with all of this," Callum's voice intrudes and Bucky stares at him for a moment, trying to assimilate the information given to him and turns his head back when he feels Alex tug on his arm. He looks around the bar, it's completely empty. Sees Connor watching him with a familiar expression.
They're all scared of him.
"Come on," she tells him, her voice quiet, subdued.
She's shaking as she unlocks the door to her apartment and all but stumbles inside. She's aware of Bucky following her in, pausing by the open door for a moment to peer out and he listens for a moment before he then carefully closes the door and turns the lock. He turns around and sees her watching him.
"Are you okay?" he asks her and sees how her eyes widen very slightly.
"Am I okay? I should be asking you the same question," she answers. She sounds slightly out of breath, a little shocked. "It was like you went on auto pilot when you saw that gun…and you're bullet-proof?" She gives her head a little shake.
Bucky takes a step towards her and then halts when her hand comes up.
"Just my arm. I'm not," he confesses, his voice low. "The rest…I just… reacted."
It's what I do, he wants to add but thinks she'll ask more questions he's not ready to answer.
She'll ask questions now.
"I wasn't gonna hurt you…any of you."
Will she believe him?
"I know," she replies, her voice deliberately light but it doesn't reassure him, he isn't stupid.
"Gabe wondered whether you were ex-military, I guess that just proved it," she sighs. He doesn't reply and watches as she lifts her head and she looks at him.
"It makes sense though that you'd know what to do in circumstances like that. It's just that I'm not a fan of guns…they make me…queasy," she whispers, her eyes taking on a far away look and he isn't really sure right then whether she's talking to him anymore. He then slowly straightens his spine as she lifts up the hem of her shirt and reveals a scar that marks the skin to the left and just up from her belly button. Even with his glitch memory, he knows exactly what that is.
A bullet wound.
He watches as she drops the hem and then unfastens the top two buttons of her blouse, pulling the material to one side. Another similar scar puckers the skin near her collarbone on the same side. He lifts his eyes to her face as she rebuttons up the shirt.
"Work related injuries," she whispers and her smile is wan, barely there.
"It's why I don't practice medicine anymore."